Remember the tingling prickly painful feeling all over my arms, back, and neck?
The one that sent me to the pain specialist that was a quack?
The one that I thought was probably nothing, and was beginning to be well-controlled by a marvelous new (to me) drug called neurotonin?
Well, my physical therapist suggested I call my oncologist and be sure that it wasn’t a tumor pressing on something it shouldn’t, and my oncologist said, yes, please go get a PET/CT scan. Immediately. And come see me in my office on Monday.
I had the PET/CT scan on Wednesday, while my children played outdoors with their Daddy.
The results are in.
I had a bad scan.
We don’t know yet what this means, and we don’t know what the treatment will entail. All we know is that six lymph nodes are lit up like Christmas lights on the scan, showing hypermetabolic activity. The options are a) infection (we’re rooting for this one); b) recurrence of the inflammatory breast cancer (possible but weird, because the breast nodes aren’t involved); c) a totally new cancer, like lymphoma (possibly brought on by all the radiation required in my previous treatment); d) metastasis.
I’m not ready to talk to anyone about this yet on the phone, so please don’t call. I’m not ready to talk to anyone about this in person, so please don’t ask me. All I need is a hug (if you’re a hugger) and a supportive word.
Anyone saying “I’m sorry” in the comments below will be shot.
We’re not sorry. We’re ready to fight. Again.
But we’re still praying that we don’t have to.