Irene Peterson's Blog

June 17th, 2009

PET Scan

6/17/09 06:36 pm

I truly wish there were pets involved.
If somebody had given me a hamster to hold on to, or a guinea pig or a puppy, I'd have been a lot happier than I was. I do suppose that I've voiced that opinion before, but this time, it would really have been nice because I was stuck in the machine a tad longer than I thought I was supposed to be, and I was stuck in the middle.
Claustrophobic people do not do well in that situation.

My right hand vein collapsed, so the guy, James, had to use the left hand. Luckily, it worked.
I got the isotope or whatever radioactive stuff it is called then had to wait 45 minutes for it to travel through my body. Then when in the machine (sans bra, which is pretty scary in itself) they had to stop something and start again when I was asked "where is your Hodgkins, Irene?"

I don't have Hodgkins. I have NON-Hodgkins lymphoma...totally different. Or supposedly. So I told James that there was something located above the diaphragm but most of it was below the diaphragm, what I had been told by the oncologist. That the mass was near the spleen and pancreas.

So he said he had to readjust the machine to cover more.

Somewhere in there I mentioned that this was sort of life or death for me...I don't think he got it, but well, to me, IT IS LIFE OR DEATH.
If there is something worse, or something more, and they can't treat it, well, let's face it, I'm dogfood.
Now, I don't like to think this way, but still and all, that glass is half empty all the time for Irene.
And I haven't seen any angels other than Dr. Khalid, and I'm not sure Muslims count as angels, not live, in the flesh ones, even if they are doctors bearing good news.
As I told my brother on the phone this afternoon, I worry and it is what I happen to do best.

Remember the other day when I said to the primary doctor that I wanted somebody to tell me the cancer was all gone and that I was going to be all right?

I haven't changed my mind.

Tags: cancer, don't worry mom, irene is at it again, lymphoma, pet scans

March 25th, 2009

Problem du jour part II

3/25/09 01:12 pm

Okay, I'm back from the PET scan.
It's relatively painless, except that it is cold in that trailer and you have to lay there with your arms clasped above your head. And I am claustrophobic and the machine, though a doughnut type shape, encloses you as it takes your internal photos.
It could be creepy if you kept your eyes open.
James, the operator, told me a joke. I hope my laughing didn't disturb any of the organs.
Or the cancer views.
Katie pushed me around the hospital and on the way back, she went right to Elyse's car and left me there, so I didn't have to walk. My legs were rather rubbery (rather is being kind) and I hadn't slept more than two hours the night before and I had had nothing to eat yet.

The ladies in the radiology office were swell. When I was in there, it was kinda weird. Here I am, make up on but Sandy's Inca hat on over my baldness, and for some strange reason, I hear somebody behind the desk say, "We have somebody famous in here now."
I looked around. There were two black grannies with their slippers on, a stunning Latina with loads of curly black hair and flashing eyes tiny body and one of those short coats on in 20 degree weather, a skinny tall lady who wore dark glasses and didn't smile and a little old Italian guy hiding behind his x-ray envelope.
So, I guess they meant ME.
Or maybe Elyse, as she was there in her guise of pink-haired semi-serious geologist.

I think it was me.

Hah! What a joke!

Anyway, I was nice to everybody, even though they were running late. When we walked into the lobby of the hospital, I saw this bald woman with a walker. I smiled and doffed Sandy's hat. She laughed, told me my hair would grow back curly and that this was her third time of losing her hair, so she knew. Her name is Agnes. Nice lady...gray eyes! Very cool.
She was supposed to have her PET scan at 9:30 and it was at least 10:10 before she was called. In fact, I told Katie where she was, in the lobby.

I am trying to be nice.

I may have to be mean tonight.
We shall see.

Tags: irene is at it again, lymphoma, pet scans, somerset medical center

Problem du jour

3/25/09 08:06 am

Remind me to write about the mistakes I have made in the past three days.

Today is the PET scan day.
Elyse is taking me to the hospital where I will be wheeled outside to the trailer that contains the positronic emission something or other machine. It is perfectly quiet, unlike the MRI which makes people itchy and nasty. This one is relatively pleasant to endure.
First they shoot some radioactive (not really) sugar into you, then you wait 45 minutes for it to do its thing, then you get scanned for about an hour, then you're done.

The machine somehow reads the sugar stuff that has latched onto your cancers. Upon reading some stuff which I should not have, I found out that cancer cells feed on sugars.
Great. Just great! That little bit of ice cream that I've been indulging in for the past few days may just kill me. I don't know. That was one of the mistakes I referred to earlier.
With the limited amount of things I can eat and/or taste, this little treat has made me happy, along with kept me alive, or so I thought.

Now, I will be pumped full of this sugar solution (it isn't just sugar) and that will attach to the cancer cells and the PET scan will pick it up and show on a rather ghostly 3D image with my body outlined and the bones missing but the flaming cancer cells pulsing in orange and red.
That's what it looked like on the website I went to that I shouldn't have.

Okay, I might as well write about the other mistakes I've made. The second was looking at myself in the mirror while naked. There really are no words to express how awful I look.
The flesh and remaining fat has decided to go south. It's loose and just hangs. I have never felt uglier.
Sandy and Sally and I have discussed this and while we all recognize the fact that at 60, nobody looks at us any more, not really, now that we are past the obtainable stage and have moved into the really useless stage. But still. You don't like feeling so awful, no matter what. Before the weight loss, at least not everything pointed toward the center of the earth and was all hangy and out of control.
Now, shit.
Oh, well.
If things are not going to be the same, then, as the ancient tree on HE-MAN so wisely said, it will be different.

I will most certainly be different.

Next mistake?
I started crying while Elyse was helping me shower. I sort of told her how upset I was and that got her upset and the last thing I want to do in the world is upset my babies. I've really tried to be brave and tell the truth and respond with how hard I am going to fight this cancer crap and how the statistics are good that I will win. Well, the survival rate is sort of like 5 to 1, meaning for every one person who doesn't make it, five do. I intend to be in that 5, but after considering my personal luck, well, I'm a little less convinced.
My luck has never been shall we say, a positive thing.

So, I got my daughter so upset that the next day while driving up to college, she called me, crying as she was driving.
This is definitely not good.
So I told her that I was over it. Every once in awhile, I get to feeling sorry for myself and I get weepy, and I was just that way after viewing my wrecked body. True.
But it affected her. And that I did not want to do. I need her support and Karyn's support and most of all, I need Herb's support and my Mom's support and the support of all my family and friends.
I know I have it.
So what right do I have for getting weepy?

Fear.
I'm afraid all the time.
There is so much I have to do yet and I won't be able to do it if this treatment doesn't work.

See? Now I've gotten you all upset.
Don't cry for me. I am over the tears and I am sincerely going to beat this cancer shit and I'll be around to finish all the things I have planned to do with my life.
Stick around and watch me.

Oh, yeah, pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain....

Tags: irene is at it again, lymphoma, pet scans

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