Thursday, October 21, 2010

The Waiting

It's not as bad as I thought it would be.

I mean, I can tell that I'm more preoccupied than usual. I can tell that I'm more stressed than I have been in a few months. I can tell that I'm not as patient with my family. I can tell that feelings I've been having all along have resurfaced.

However. I've also decided that whatever the scan says, it's not an emergency. Would it be nice to have my results RIGHT NOW THIS SECOND? Of course. Honestly though, what's a week? If my scan is clear, then it's clear (yay!) and if it's not, nothing is going to change much between now and next Wednesday. And we'll deal with whatever we have to next week.

I didn't blog about the CT scan, did I? How about if I do that now? I know you're on pins and needles.

First of all, I drank about a gallon of barium. What? Okay, not a gallon. But I did drink a container Sunday night, then another container Monday morning. And another big glass shortly before my scan. Overkill? I only drank one glass an hour before my scan last year. I picked vanilla flavor. Vanilla smoothie. It sounded slightly better than some of the other choices, which included mixed berry and orange.

The waiting room consisted of people who were easily twenty years older than me. As per usual. You'd think I would be used to this, but it's still so weird.

The nurse had a freakishly hard time finding a vein for the IV and she might have poked my arm twice (I don't know, I was looking away and thinking happy thoughts). I'm not bruising as badly as I was when on chemo, thank goodness for that.

The scan itself was relatively fast and easy. The IV barium they give you makes your whole body feel hot. Kind of like a hot flash. Because that's what I need, MORE hot flashes. Your body passed through a giant donut and you have to hold your breath when the nice voice on the scanner tells you to.

I almost started crying during the scan. Okay, a few tears might have leaked out. There's nothing like having a scan that makes you think really awful thoughts about your life and everything that's been going on over the past year.

Then it was over.

Anyway, I wanted to share some of this for anyone who might be reading and dealing with a bunch of cancer crap. I'm sure my feelings and thoughts are not wholly unique in this situation, and I think it's okay to feel whatever you feel. Sometimes I think about the past year in amazement. I mean, at this time last October, 8am, I was getting ready to go in for radiation. It doesn't seem like any of that was real, it's so weird. It's like I was dropped in some alternate universe for a year, and then dropped back into real life. Did I really do all that?

Feel what you need to feel. Hug people around you that you care about. You know, the same stuff I always tell you to do.


  1. Yuck, that stuff you have to drink! I went to the ER and they gave me a CT but I was too sick to drink the stuff and I still got the CT so I figure do I have to drink the stuff when I have the the non emergency CT scan?
    I also have cried during a MRI I had (not the CT scan since I was way too sick and out of it) and I have cried through the radiation set up. Not looking forward to the real radiation, I am sure I will cry again.

  2. Thinking of you while you wait! It's always hard to do. And yes, I cried during my first CT scan way back in '88. It's such a cold solitary thing to do and all the nice tech people leave you alone while they hide behind glass and you're lying there wondering what is being revealed and what this extra radiation and whatnot is doing to you. Just not my favorite test. Hugs to you, Sheri, and healing for your wound and your soul.