Thought I would just catch you all up with the latest and greatest in my BC developments.
As some of you may know, I finished radiation on May 12. On May 20th I had my follow-up with my oncologist, who told me to get another muga (aka heart) scan, a follow-up MRI on the left breast (i.e., the “clean” one, in which we saw that “blip” back in December), and my port removal. I asked him, “Should I wait for the MRI results before scheduling the port removal?” and he said, “No,” left the room, then popped back in and said, “You know what, wait, for luck.”
So after waiting two days for the radiology place to call me to schedule, I set up both my MRI and my heart scan for Friday May 29. The doc’s office called and told me that they scheduled the port removal for Tuesday June 2nd. I asked if that would be okay since he wanted to see the MRI results before the port removal. They said they’d call me back if it wasn’t.
So, four days went by and I heard nothing. On Friday I went for my tests and I heard nothing. I made arrangements for someone to take me to/from my surgery (aka port removal) and heard nothing.
On Monday, the scheduler from the doc’s office called to tell me that they rescheduled the port removal for Monday June 8. I asked the scheduler if they had received the MRI results yet and she asked when I’d had the test done. I told her Friday and she said she’d call the radiology group to see if they had the results. I asked her if this was a no news, good news situation? And she said, “No the doctor will call you either way, but the longer it takes, usually the better the news.”
As that day wore on, it sent me into an incredible funk.
Here’s the thing. In my mind, Tuesday June 2nd was it. It was the end! It was the moment the last vestige of what I had endured would be removed (as my hair looks decent now, and I have eyelashes and eyebrows again).
Then my mind started playing tricks on me. You know, like the cartoon characters with the good angel and devil sitting on each shoulder, trying to persuade you to do something? Well, that devil whispered things into my brain like, “If he thought you were fine, he would have taken out the port without the MRI results.” “If the port stays in, that means they may think you will need to go through chemo again.”
The longer this takes, the more worked up I get. I thought about what the scheduler said about the longer it takes the better but not according to my cartoon devil. Now he (yes, my devil is a he), whispered in my ear things like “He’s not calling because he needs to confer with your surgeon to figure out how they’re going to treat you.”
So Tuesday comes and starts to go and every time the phone rings, I jump. Finally, I call the scheduler back, and she says, “I don’t know if we ever got the results. His in basket is empty but he could have received them, and taken them.” She’s going to call the radiology group again, and have them sent again. I leave two numbers with her for them to reach me with the results. No phone call.
Now here’s the thing. I had to take someone else on Tuesday for an MRI (of the brain). Late Tuesday – she had a 5:15pm appointment. Early Wednesday afternoon, she received her results!!
I’m pissed.
I don’t call the scheduler this time, I call the people at my office. The ones who saw me weekly for four months and I ask them to have my doc call me and I explain why.
Three hours later he calls. The “blip” in the left breast is still on the MRI. He thinks that’s a good thing though. He said, “If it were gone, we’d worry that it was cancerous and that the chemo killed it.” He wants me to have another scan in three or four months, to keep an eye on it though. I ask him if we need to biopsy it and he doesn’t think so. The last time he spoke to my surgeon, she didn’t want to do anything with it. She said it was deep, and she didn’t think it was anything to worry about. He asks me though when I’m having the port removed and I tell him Monday. He says he will call my surgon this week to make sure she’s still in agreement though. I ask him what he thinks it could be and he says, “It could be anything, a vein, scar tissue, anything.” I ask if he will call me after he speaks to my surgeon, and he will.
Oh, and the heart scan was normal.
I find that funny – in a weird way. The chemo could have damaged my heart but I got so focused on that stupid blip, I forgot to ask about the vital organ I couldn’t live with out.
So I’m waiting again for the phone to ring to tell me we’re a go for Monday. The devil is back on my shoulder, whispering again, but I’m doing my best to ignore him. One of these days though, I really want to kick him in the ass.