Saturday, July 31, 2010

GOOD NEWS: CT RESULTS



Hello lovely, lovely world! I have good news to share! (Okay, so I know the above is a PET scan image, but it is too hard to make one out of CT images. They're like slices of the body; not full sized images so its hard to appreciate.)


My post-treatment CT scan showed that my cancer is still gone and the remaining internal scar tissue has shrunk even further (my body is apparently still working on clearing out the junk chemo and radiation left behind). I'm was so happy that I could cry; even so, I knew deep down that I had kicked cancer's ass and that there was nothing to be afraid of. As all cancer survivors can attest to, fear of re-occurance is nearly universal.

Let me recap the day in details for ya'll. David and I made the 8 hour long road trip from Idaho to Washington; first stopping at his mom's house. There, we spend a few hours talking and catching up. We were also there to pick up the newest addition to our family, Willow; an adorable, sweet blonde female rat with curly fur and whisers. She was all alone and terrified of my mother in law's dog, so she came home with us; rat-loving foster parents.

After our visit, we packed up Willow for the long trip and headed our way to my hometown. From there, David dropped me off at my parent's house where I spent the night. David drove Willow back to Idaho so he could work and rest. The next morning, my Mom drove me to my appointment. Prior to the scan, I was thinking, "It's no big deal; I just have to drink some stuff so they can see inside me." Well apparently, they didn't require JUST the weird tasting CT contrast but ALSO the injectable CT contrast since they were doing the chest, abdomen and pelvic regions; basically my whole body. When I arrived, I headed to the 2nd floor radiology to have my blood drawn and an IV placed in my arm (ugh, where's my port again? Just kidding!!). The nurse seemed new to the whole thing and took for-freaking-ever to poke, get the blood, finish the IV set up and label everything. It also hurt pretty bad, considering he chose the deeper of the two vein options in my right arm (pretty much the only arm that gives good IVs).

After he FINALLY finished, he put an arm sock over my IV equipment and gave me some clear CT contrast to drink. The bottle of diluted contrast was a big sucker! Think of the contents of a full nalgene bottle and a half of this stuff that tasted like really bad drinking water with lots of minerals in it. I had to drink all of the solution over the course of one hour on an empty stomach. I read somewhere on the internet that it is easier to skip the straw and just ask for a cup. Apparently if you sip it leisurely, you won't get through the contrast in time for your allotted scan time and your brain will detect fullness before you've gotten enough down. Anyway, I managed to drink the stuff, but my stomach was hurting really badly because I had to fast prior to the scan. In sum, I was tired, grouchy and slightly nauseated.
I was able to finish the contrast just before my name was called. The techs brought me into the scan room with the "Donut of Doom", as my mother calls it (Mom is highly claustrophobic and hates the CT machine), in the center of the room. They ask me to make sure that I didn't have anything metal on; underwire, jewelry and the like. They motioned to the cradle-like table that was connected to the machine and asked me to lay down. They flushed my IV with saline which still brings back chemo memories. I almost lost it right then and there! Luckily, I practiced my deep breathing and imagery skills, preventing me from losing the contrast I had so diligently consumed.

The CT nurses/techs hooked up my IV to the injectable contrast machine, which, at the push of a button, administers a steady dose of the (as they say) warming CT contrast dye to the helpless and probably clueless patient. Once I was hooked up, they covered me with a warm sheet and the scan began. The typical whirring in and out, "breathe in...hold your breath" commands, and of course, the uncomfortable sensation that you have pee'd yourself and walked into a burning hot sauna all at once. The burning and hot feeling comes from the contrast traveling through your body. If it weren't so damned uncomfortable, it would be almost fascinating how quickly the heart pumps the contrast through your body. Let's just say that the sensation hits your bladder pretty much instantaneously...So, for the folks about to get a CT scan: YOU HAVE NOT PEE'D YOURSELF; THAT IS THE CONTRAST!!

Anyway, it was a good day despite momentary discomforts. I am just so glad that my scan was clear!

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