Always Learning

Tuesday, February 7, 2012: I learned some new things today as I made it through my THIRD (is it the third or is it the fourth?? - I've honestly lost count) PET scan in the past 11 months. PET scans are the biggies - full body scans that give 3D results - big results and big bucks. And then when I think of all the radiation my poor body has had to endure, it's a wonder I don't GLOW - and not in the good way!

I learned that my hubby actually enjoyed taking me to my scan today. Granted, he got to take a little bit of time off work (I didn't make him stay and sit for THREE hours in the waiting room, so he was only gone from work for the time it took to drive me to Huntsman and pick me up again when I was done), but I think it was more than that. I think he felt "included" in this crazy journey. Not that he wants to make a habit of it - he's very glad that Lindsey will be taking me to my appointment with Dr. Grossmann tomorrow for the scan results. I think that would be a little scary for him.

I also learned that the reason this scan requires that you sit in a quiet, darkened room in a (semi) comfy chair with a foot rest under a hospital-heated blanket and do NOTHING (I took a book along today, thinking I'd get to delve a little deeper into my new library find, "Magdalene", but nooo...) is because the two hours you sit there (yes, I said TWO HOURS) allows the radioactive contrast to move through your entire body equally. The technician explained to me (and he's the first one to really do a good job at it!) that if they were to allow the patient to read, the contrast would naturally go to the hardest working muscle in the body at the moment - the brain! If they were to allow the patient to talk and laugh and move around the room, the contrast would go to the muscles actually doing the work and the little "lazy" muscles - where cancer loves to hide - would not capture any contrast. Brilliant explanation! That's why I have to sit alone and be quiet and even try to nap (and turn off my thinking brain, too) while this stuff goes swooshing through my insides, waiting for the big camera to take its pictures.

I also RE-learned today that prayers are answered, no matter what you pray for. Today I prayed with all my energy that I wouldn't get a throat tickle and have to cough in the middle of the scan. (My new high blood pressure meds give me a dry cough and it does seem to come on at the worst possible times.) In the past couple of days, I've had coughing attacks that leave me weepy (eyes water) and gravelly (can't clear my throat) and downright exhausted. I just knew that if this happened during the scan, it would have to be postponed or restarted or something bad...and I would hate that. So, beginning last Sunday, I've been praying that God would relax my throat, relax my breathing, relax my coughing muscles enough to make it through the 45 minutes I would be on the scanning table. I've even laid in bed the past few nights, unable to sleep for worrying about this silly cough. Today, before we left for the hospital, I drank lots of water (had to fast from solid food after 6 AM) and I even told one of the nurses that I was very worried about this. Her reply was, "Yes, that would NOT be good!" I started feeling pretty confident until I had been sitting in the dark, quiet room for about 45 minutes...and suddenly, I felt the obnoxious throat tickle. I started to cough. My prayers intensified. Please, God, just let me get through the scan without coughing, please, please, please. The cough stopped. I was able to relax and almost fell asleep. When I laid down on the scanning table, I felt very comfortable. I started singing in my head. Not once did I feel the urge to cough, not once. In fact, I felt like the scan went faster than others I've had in the past. The IV injection of more contrast didn't "burn" my neck wounds like it did before and I didn't feel at all restless. I know it was a powerful blessing. I was so relieved and so grateful. He knows all.

So, now we wait again for the results. At least we're only waiting a day and not a week or longer. My appointment with Dr. Grossmann is tomorrow at 4 PM. I'm praying mightily for "good news".

(Pictures top and bottom: June 2011 - riding in Dean's Jeep project with Lachlan & Ness. I am kind of paranoid about being out in full sun without my hat now! And my sweet nieces, Britnee & EmiLee (holding the sign at the bottom) raised money in a dirty mud race in July 2011 to help the Cancer Society - me in my hat with all the lovely/muddy "prom queens"!)