Glenda and I were relaxed so I asked her to take a couple of pictures while we waited for Dr. T. I was going to post a humorous photo of me laying back on the exam table waiting for the good doctor. When he arrived, I commented that he looked thinner. We smiled. We kidded a little. As he headed to the chair closest to me he smiled and thanked me. Pam, his assistant, went to the computer to load the xray from the last visit with Doc Benzor into my file.
I began by describing the litany of events we had dealt with since the last scan and the pains I experienced while Dr. T listened quietly. Glenda mentioned the things I left out as there were a few details my chemo infected brain may have stored away but was unable to bring to the surface.
We only took a couple of minutes and he did not interrupt. Pam, faced the computer and kept her back to us the whole time. She did not speak. I suppose that should have been a clue of the news we were about to receive.
"Well," began Dr. T pointing to the computer Pam was working at, "the scan results are much worse."
I am the type who prefers that the cards be put on the table where I can see them and deal with them in my own way but there are times you want some things handed to you as gently as possible. Especially where Glenda is concerned.
Over the last few weeks without any chemo at all, Glenda and I had prepared ourselves to hear there was growth and being the realist in the family, I told Glenda that I was sure the Beast was taking the chance to grow and maybe even to spread as it is a very opportunistic cancer. I did that more to prepare her than me because she does not handle sudden bad news well. Still the preparation only softened the blow enough so we didn't go into total shock.
After a few seconds of silence, I asked, "how much worse?" I was numb, or at least I didn't feel anything. No shock. No anger. No fear. Nothing.
There are several new nodules --hell, I'm going to call them tumors--in both lungs. What was there has grown. The lymph nodes have grown substantially and there is a new tumor in my liver that was not there three months ago. The largest lung met has also grown.
Everything else is clear.
We discussed surgery. Dr. T did not recommend it as it would interrupt what treatment we could use to attack the cancer thus setting us back even more and giving the cancer more chance for further growth.
I had him listen to my lungs and they were clear. He said the cough is a result of the largest lymph node pressing against my bronchial tube. The result is the tube thinks it is blocked and tries to cough up the blockage. Thankfully, there is no more blood when I cough but I will keep an eye on it just the same.
I get winded easily. While we were at Glenda's mother's I walked from the second floor to the ground floor to help unload groceries and had to rest afterward after two short trips. The scans don't show anything other than the lung mets and when they checked my oxygen intake it was almost 100%.
So, we are going back to Sutent. We go back in three weeks for follow up to see if the Beast has been slowed down but the sudden defense. And we may try radiation on the lymph nodes to shrink them. We'll decide that at the follow up.
Glenda and I haven't really had a chance to sit down and talk it over yet. We have been holding hands a lot but the 80 mile drive home was quiet. We decided to tell our children and our families before we tell anyone else. By the time you read this we will have made the calls and answered their questions.
When we got into the elevator and the doors closed, I took her in my arms and she began to cry. As we stepped off, I pulled her to a corner where I held her again and she cried again. People walked by quietly when they saw us. I suppose people trying to cope with bad news is a common sight in a cancer center.
Glenda cried for a few seconds and insisted she was all right so we headed to the truck. She broke down again as she told her mother once we got to her place.
I have begun steeling myself for the fight ahead. I am channeling my anger to provide inner strength. Mentally, as I said, I was ready for bad news, so I immediately began thinking of how we could best move forward.
I am angry but I am not dwelling on it. Rather than wrap myself in my anger, I channel it as a weapon of strength. The cancer is my enemy but I have enemies I don't think about. This anger is going to be used to formulate ways to attack the cancer and hopefully to kill off the cancer cells.
The cells are part of my body so I supposed technically it is "my cancer." My feeling is that if I embrace the cancer then I am giving in to it which is unacceptable. So the fight will go to a new level of intensity.
It's a fight to the death for me and the Beast. It is winner take all.
The report is too long and technical to post here so I am just posting the summation below.
IMPRESSION:
1. Compared to prior CT chest abdomen pelvis March 17, 2010, there is severe interval progression of metastatic disease to the chest. Worsening bulky mediastinal and hilar lymphadenopathy is noted.
2. Severe interval progression of lung metastasis is noted.
3. New 3.5 cm size hypodense lesion is noted in the right lobe of the liver on series 3 image 139, worrisome for new hepatic metastasis.
IMPRESSION:
1. Compared to prior CT chest abdomen pelvis March 17, 2010, there is severe interval progression of metastatic disease to the chest. Worsening bulky mediastinal and hilar lymphadenopathy is noted.
2. Severe interval progression of lung metastasis is noted.
3. New 3.5 cm size hypodense lesion is noted in the right lobe of the liver on series 3 image 139, worrisome for new hepatic metastasis.