scanxiety

AFTER

Spoiler alert - SCANS ARE CLEAR!!!! I shared this news on Instagram and eluded to these scans but I didn’t really want to go into detail. We all knew how serious this was but no one wanted to say it. I wrote the post below before my MRI. The Wednesday of my MRI I was feeling better than I anticipated. My mom took me to Retreat Hospital and waited nervously with me. The tech who did my MRI was phenomenal! Things went a lot better than I anticipated. I wasn’t nauseated. He was able to find a vein and get the IV for the contrast immediately with one try. And he pushed the contrast - instead of the machine so my fears of a vein blowing were calmed. Also, it was only about 45 minutes in the MRI. I just kept reminding myself to breathe and that no matter what we’ll deal with it.

That evening I went for a doggo walk with my closest friends and I got the call with them. Which, could have ended up terribly. The nurse from my cancer center said “Hey, Frazier it’s Gina, Dr. Friedman wanted me to give you a call” and my stomach dropped - thinking she wouldn’t be sharing the news and was scheduling an appointment. But, nope, she said “it’s all clear - there is no cancer in your brain or spine.” The best news ever!! I celebrated with the bests and continued throughout the week.

I am relieved! It’s tough to process all of the worry and fear to only just drop it immediately with one phone call.

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BEFORE

I’m not the only cancer patient plagued with fears and thoughts of this spreading. Once you’re diagnosed with cancer any pain is pretty terrifying. It’s a sign that things might be progressing. That your body is being invaded even more so than before. Earlier in the week my arm started hurting. Like tennis elbow - but without the tennis or any repetitive movement. It was keeping me up at night so after a few days of waiting for it to go away I finally called my oncologist’s office. They immediately got me in for a visit with the nurse practitioner for blood work and a visit. Later that same day my lower back ached.

I tried to shrug this off. The likelihood of my cancer spreading, while on aggressive chemotherapy, and within the last five months since my staging scans, is pretty damn low. But. I have a very aggressive cancer. And the likelihood I’d ever have cancer in my body is the first place is also pretty low. The rational part of my brain is now shrugging when the irrational anxious portion is convinced this elbow pain means brain or bone metastasis. There’s just no calming these fears because the worst has already happened once and it utterly shocked me.

My oncologist ordered a Brain and Cervical Spine MRI. Along with an ultrasound of my arm to rule out blood clot. You know things are low when you’re hoping for a blood clot. Sitting in the oncologist’s office as the NP breezily comes back to tell me they’re ordering these scans - my heart dropped to my stomach. I really wanted them to say this is in no way related to the cancer and I’m being ridiculous. I held this news for a few hours because how can I drop this on everyone else? Haven’t they had enough?

These aren’t scheduled until 2/2. Three days after my next chemo. Now, this one hour long MRI will go one of two ways. One, the best case, I’m exhausted from the chemo, the nausea meds are working, I take a Xanax and drift off to sleep through the whole thing. Or, two, I’m so nauseous and meds aren’t helping and well I can’t make it through. Scheduling is a beast right now - everything is backed up so it’s important I make it through these scans. I’m also hoping to actually switch this from two back to back MRIs to one PET scan. It’s not much more out of pocket expense for me and will hopefully show a more comprehensive view so we can rule everything out.

This is my first true cancer patient scanxiety time. I don’t think I fully understood the implications of scans after my initial diagnosis. Now, I get it. I see it. And holy hell am I scared. And yet, I have to power through each day, alone in my apartment and working. As if this press release is enough to distract me that in two weeks I could receive life altering (potentially ending) news. There really are not enough “you’ll be fine” comments to help.

I did immediately go to my cancer community and ask if anyone else has experienced this. Pain can be from so many things that are NOT cancer spreading and I’m on SO many different things right now - it really is probably a side effect. One answer I didn’t expect, but it didn’t surprise me, is psychosomatic symptoms towards the end of chemo. A few women shared weird aches and pains around the end of their chemo that cleared up on their own and scans showed nothing. Basically, your brain is freaking out and making your body freak out with it. This makes total sense to me and honestly I will not be surprised when the scans show nothing and my brain is just being an asshole. Honestly, this is number 1 best case scenario! And while this calms my fears - the what if worst case scenario still pops up. I HATE being blindsided. I’ve spent my entire life thinking of and planning for the worst case scenario. Hell, when the nurse said I needed to come in and be seen I packed a bag for the hospital and cleaned my apartment just in case they sent me to the hospital so I would’’t be caught unprepared.

I’m going to really honest with you all - there’s not a damn thing you can say or do to make this time any easier on me. It sucks, I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. And attempting to fix it just honestly makes me annoyed and angry. There’s no fixing it. Unless you have a miracle hiding and in that case f you for not giving it to me sooner.

I will be holding both joy and fear for the next 14ish days until I receive results. And unfortunately, that’s just my life right now. Please remember - you have no idea what people are going through. They might be holding a lot of fear that’s outweighing the joy and it’s heavy.