I’d like to get off the roller coaster now.
So much has happened since my last post, and I apologize for not keeping up with this but I was just trying to “do me”.
To sum up the ending of what happened in April – they found nothing. Since there was so much unknown, my surgeon wanted my scan to be moved up from September to July.
Last week he called me the same day as my scan to let me know they found cancer in my liver. To say I cried is an understatement. He let me know that there are three new spots, and he wanted me to come in to speak to him about the next steps. So the next day we drove down and he explained in more detail about what was going on. The three new spots are in a good place that he could remove them, but he worries that another surgery would put too much stress on my liver. He could operate and then I could suffer from liver failure. He was also worried with the amount of scar tissue I have developed. Surgery would be very invasive in order to combat this and he would have to cut the full width of my mid section – which again is extremely dangerous. He never gave me the impression he was super confident and on board with this procedure, but it was my best chance. Tests leading up to the surgery would include a PET scan, a MRI and a colonoscopy to determine if the cancer was anywhere else. Operating on my liver would compromise my immune system so it would put me at a greater risk for tumour growth.
My PET scan was on Monday and I have been on pins and needles ever since. On one hand I didn’t want them to find anything because I need this surgery. On the other hand, this surgery scares me more than any other I’ve had.
I went up to his office before my MRI yesterday to drop off my PET scan images, and let his receptionist know to tell him I want an answer ASAP.
After 45 minutes in that magnetic tube they let me know he called down and wanted me to go straight to see him. My stomach flipped. I knew he found something on that scan.
He showed us the glowing dots of cancer we knew about, then he showed me a dot we didn’t. Turns out, it was on my scan in March but it is in such a weird spot it was hard to pick it up.
Where is it you are wondering? Well that’s the problem, they don’t know.
It is right by my liver, so it is either in a lymph node or attached to the tissue surrounding my bile duct and both arteries running through my liver. Either way – it isn’t good. If it is in a lymph node that means the cancer has spread outside of the organs and I will never have a chance for surgery again. If it has attached itself in between the worst possible place, it is extremely dangerous to remove. He would have to refer me to a transplant surgeon who would perform, as he put it, “a very radical surgery.” Since they are used to working and operating on and around these arteries and bile duct, they would best know how to proceed.
Either way – he wants me back on chemo.
I asked to sit down. This was the worst case scenario for me. I hate chemo more than I hate surgery. There is no part of me that wants to go back on that.
I asked him through my ever flowing tears if there was any other solution. What if I ate super clean for two months and then we scan? He wasn’t having it. He told me he can’t tell me what to do, but he very strongly disagrees and I could put myself at a greater risk. He wants my port-a-cath put back in next week, and I would start back on folfiri chemo the week after. I was speechless and just said I wanted to go home.
The crying didn’t stop, it still hasn’t. Now I’m stuck with the decision to be on chemotherapy essentially for life, or refuse it and risk the tumours growing and compromising my liver function. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do. The idea of going back on chemo till the end of my day is the worst thing I could ever think of. At the same time I want to continue my life on this planet not for me, but for Chris and my family. I know it would hurt them more to lose me than it would hurt me to be on chemo.
Either way, I hate everyone reading this. I hate that you all have zero idea how amazing you have it. I hate that I might not live to see 40 and you are upset because they didn’t get your order right at the drive thru. Can’t wait to be sick everyday and blow up again and lose my hair. Fun times ahead.