Clean enough

Posted on Joe's FB 11/3/11

I said it in a status update before, and I'll say it again: There's no way to adequately express the level of anxiety one has on the day of 'follow up scans.' And as I told a lot of people over the past week, these days are bound to be either the best day of your life, or the worst day of your life. You try to stay positive; you rationalize in your mind that the anxiety is needless, and that even if something is detected, there are many, many options for treatment.
And yet as that clock ticks throughout the day, through the vascular appointment, through the nutritionist meeting, through the lab work, through the hour wrapped in a blanket in the cold basement chemo room for CT prep, through the scan itself, and then especially in that little waiting room looking south of Carnegie Avenue, that anxiety builds. A resident - Dr. Haddad - comes in, and does a brief physical. Our angel, Laura, comes in and says that Dr. Rini's almost done reading the scans, and I'm sure that my heart is doing a "Loony Tunes"-like number on my shirt THUMPTHUMP... THUMPTHUMP... THUMPTHUMP...
She leaves. Dr. Rini comes in with a few pieces of paper. And what he's bringing is inconclusive. The scans show those little 'nodules' on my lungs that were noted back in June may, or may not, have grown by 1/100th of a millimeter. He says we should be 'cautious' but not necessarily concerned, and sort of as aside says, "It's my job to be cautious." And I thank God for his caution. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop... and I ask - "Is that it?" "Yeah," he says. And I feel the weight of a thousand sleepless hours lift.
So the little nodules? They might be cancerous. They might not. They're too small to biopsy, and they've been that way for at least seven months, maybe longer.
A few months ago, I think this news might have driven me nuts. It certainly would have scared the living shit out of me a year ago! But I'm slowly coming to realize that 'inconclusive' isn't a dirty word. Indeed, inconclusive isn't so bad. My scans aren't clean, but they're clean enough. And today wasn't the best day of my life; and today sure as hell wasn't the worst day of my life. Today was a day; a day I woke up grateful to be alive, a day I got to spend with my partner and best friend, a day I was grateful for the awesome prayers, thoughts and support of my friends and family, a day I got to wake up feeling pretty good, and go to bed feeling pretty good. I like today. I have a feeling I'll like tomorrow, too.

THE DETAILS
• I may be off blood thinners by this time next week. Hello, bicycling and salads (I missed you, tabouli); goodbye injections and a bruised belly!
• I am going to be in the compression stockings a LOT longer... 18 more months. But if it means I don't have to do the injections or remember the medication, I'm down with being the freak with a weird leg.
• I learned a lot about changing my diet a little more from nutrition.
• Trial meds going well; no changes in dosage or anything like that.