I had a PET scan yesterday (Friday) morning. The goal was to confirm if the cancer has spread to other lymph nodes, or (and this would be really bad news) beyond that. There was a concerning spot on the lymph nodes on the MRI that prompted this.
I have been feeling so much anxiety heading in to this test. But not about the test itself. (This one felt like a nap in a zen garden compared to the MRI.)
It’s that every test I’ve had so far has ended up giving us worse news than we expected. It feels like my internal barometer is off and I can’t trust my intuition. And even when someone told me, “You’re due for some good news,” I couldn’t trust that either because that didn’t mean I would get it.
It’s hard not to know what to expect anymore. I find myself bracing for the worst-case scenario now with these tests and I was absolutely convinced going in to the PET scan that it would tell us what I had convinced myself of - that this cancer had metastasized.
And here’s the kicker for someone like me who is great at arguing the logic of any argument: these fears and anxiety aren’t illogical or irrational. Add to that my wildly uncalibrated intuition and, well… it’s a very dark place sometimes.
But then I got a call from my oncologist late Friday afternoon, who already had the results. And right off the bat, the oncologist says, “Are you ready for some good news on a Friday?” HELL YES!
She said that the PET scan confirmed the two spots we already knew about - the lump in my breast and one lymph node - and NOTHING ELSE. That was the first time I ugly cried. The ugly cry came three more times before the day was over.
The doctor very patiently repeated the findings multiple times, at my request. I wanted to make sure I had heard correctly. And she said, “It is confirmed. You are squarely in the category of curable.” She had used the word “curable” with me before. And of course, she knows this territory much better than me. But this feels different. Maybe now I’ll truly believe her. And feel like I can start trusting myself again.
There is very little of the treatment plan that will be fun. But I’ve entered this strange world of making decisions with pretty unappealing choices that are still better than the alternative.
“What we already knew and nothing else.” This feels manageable. And this feels light years better than the worst-case scenario I had convinced myself was inevitable.
I’m learning to appreciate the bright spots in the long dark tunnels. Onward we go.