Like a Room Without a Roof

We’ve been dancing a lot to Pharrell around here. Why? Because we received my CT scan results and we’re happy. It appears as though the chemo has done its job. My cancer looks dead!!! An answer to prayer. We are very excited, but also cautiously waiting until surgery and receiving the pathology report to really celebrate.

I had my scan while I was as sick as a dog. Every time I had to hold my breath in the scanner it felt like I was choking back vomit. It was an experience. I just closed my eyes and kept repeating “be still” over and over. That was to keep from ralphing everywhere. But it soon became, “Be still and know that I am God” over and over in my head. I didn’t even think about it. The thought just kept repeating itself in my head, over and over. Whatever you put into your mind will come back out when you need it the most. And I didn’t throw up. I actually felt much better when it was over.

As soon as I got out of the machine the radiologist questioned something he found above my right hip. I told him I was just given a shot just a few minutes ago (I’m still on Lupron). He told me that explained the sack of fluid he found in the scan. Of course, in typical Kim fashion, as soon as I realized he was watching my scan in real time I asked one thousand questions. Do I still have cancer? Can you see the tumor? Did it spread? Am I okay??? Did the chemo work????? He just laughed with or at (still not sure) me. He kindly told me he can’t tell me anything; I have to wait to meet with my doctor. That wait was one week long. Do you have any idea how long that week felt?

We met with my oncologist a week later, and he said my scans look good!! My tumor appears to have shrunk like a raisin. And that spot on my spine is not cancer! It’s a really long word that I can’t pronounce, or in this case spell, and it’s just some blood vessels that look like a spider web and just show up on my scans.

Next step is surgery and then he’s prescribing radiation. We won’t know for sure until we get my pathology report on the tumor, but as of right now I’ll have a little under six weeks of radiation. It also depends on how my body responds to the radiation; we may have to take it a little slower since my complexion is so fair. I’ll hopefully start that two weeks after surgery. It all depends on how well my wounds heal and what the radiation oncologist thinks. Oh yeah, there’s going to be another doctor in charge of my radiation. I cannot keep these doctors or appointments straight. I’ve double booked myself and my children’s appointments twice now.

My surgery is scheduled on October 21. To say I cannot wait would be an understatement. I’m also getting my port removed during that procedure, which they usually don’t do so soon. They usually wait to get the pathology report and make sure no more chemo is required. My doctor told us there really isn’t any more chemo for me, other than a clinical trial, that he could prescribe. So the port’s coming out. I am so, so excited. It’s like Christmas in October.

He also reduced my Lupron shots down from one year to just five more months.

Dear Tim, only five more months of crazy Kim.

I’m so glad to be done receiving chemotherapy. So glad to be moving on to a “next step.” Just need to get my numbers up and get over these side effects of chemo. That will take a while, I know. I keep trying to do “normal” things and then my body reminds me that it has not even been three weeks since we last pumped it with poison. You win body, you win.

I’m off to nap, only to wake, eat and sleep again. Sweet napping dreams!