What I've Wanted to Tell You...

It's been a couple of weeks since I blogged last -- and part of me wants to apologize for that. I like to keep you informed about what's going on with me, and I have found that writing the blog has been tremendously therapeutic for me. (A fact I've mentioned several times in this blog. It's still true.)

There have been a bunch of things are going on in and around the house: new porch decking, new heater, progress in my keyboard lessons, trip to Meadville for the first School session of the year, and the like. But somehow, none of these seemed important or interesting enough to rise to the level of blogability. No funny stories. No flashes of cosmic insight.

And I've been feeling pretty chirpy for most of the time recently. But as I think about the scans that are scheduled for next week, I become subdued... and then downright frightened. And not much in the mood to share anything with anyone. I sit down at the computer to blog again and again, then just can't find anything to tell you about...

But the upcoming medical visits next week will determine a great deal about my short- and long-term future activities:

And I actually had a good start to this sequence of "Doctor says" visits last Tuesday. I had a long-standing appointment with my dermatologist for a regular full-body checkup for suspicious-looking lesions, moles, and the like. And a week or so before the visit, I discovered a spot on my right cheek which looked like someone had brushed it with burnt-candle-wick ash. Not a mole or pimple, and not raised above skin level. Just a dark gray spot. So part of me starts thinking: "Great! Three different cancers in less than a year!" (I'm getting a bit paranoid, I guess, about unusual appearances on my skin -- especially around my face and neck...)

But my dermatologist told me that it wasn't anything to be concerned about. (He called it "hereditary," but I haven't a clue what that means.) In any case, he said we should watch it, but that it wasn't anything of immediate worry.

And he couldn't find anything else on my hide of any concern (from my scalp to the bottoms of my feet). So that's kind of like, "One Doc scan down, two to go."

And here are the details of the other two:

Monday, October 12 A PET/CT scan at Chester County Hospital. Procedure should start at roughly 8:00 AM and last 90 minutes or so. Several of my doctors have monitored the possible recurrence of the salivary duct cancer local to its original site (i.e., the upper left side of my neck/jaw/cheek area) -- and have not found any trace of reappearance.

(This, dear reader, would be an excellent time to cheer!)

The other concern is a "distant" recurrence in the lungs, liver, or elsewhere, which could only be found by scanning. And I have not been scanned (due to the radiation treatments) since May. So this upcoming scan is a biggie.

If the scan indicates other potentially cancerous locations in my body, it would likely mean a brand new series of treatments which might include more surgery, radiation and/or chemo -- depending on the location, size, etc. of the new tumor or tumors. There's no way to tell what treatments would be called for until after the scan is completed.

If the scan comes back clean, then I can have the food tube removed from my tummy (which was a Godsend months ago, but has been simply an annoyance for the last four or five weeks). And my anxiety level should drop precipitously. And I will be grateful in ways that I have never been grateful before in my life.

Tuesday, October 13 A sonogram on my right leg to determine if the blood clot has dissipated. This is scheduled for 9:50 AM at the Fern Hill Annex of the Chester County Hospital.

The blood clot was diagnosed in late June, and ever since then, I've been wearing a full-length compression stocking on my right leg and taking blood thinning medication (starting with Lovenox, which is a self-injected medication, then switching to Coumadin, which is a smallish pill). People seem to think there's a fairly good chance that the clot is gone by now.

While not as worrisome as the PET/CT scan from Monday, it should be noted that over 200,000 people a year die from "pulmonary embolism" every year -- which happens when a blood clot (usually located in the leg) breaks free and lodges itself in the lungs. That's more people dying from this than from AIDS and breast cancer combined.

So it would be nice to get a clean bill of health here as well. It would mean I could ditch the stockings (which are constantly falling down), stop taking the blood thinners (which means I could start unicycling again -- and doing other stuff that might result in my bleeding a bit), and start up full-bore workouts with my personal trainer again.

One way or another, I will be a different person by the end of next week.

That's true, but I just couldn't figure out how to tell you before now.

If you are so inclined, I would ask you to pray for me.

Candles and kind thoughts are also most welcome.

And rest assured that, as soon as I know anything about the scan results, you will be able to read all about it right here.