The really good news is that my CT scans taken on Wednesday revealed significant shrinkage in the larger tumors since early April when I started chemotherapy. The treatment has worked, and my cancer marker number is still dropping. After 6 treatments and 19 weeks, this is really good news.
The avastin treatment on Friday was uneventful, which is also good news. Going forward, I can expect the procedure to take about 35 minutes once lab work is done and my port has been accessed. I won’t need anti-nausea medicines, and side effects should be minimum. We’re hoping that I can continue on this treatment every three weeks as long as possible and maybe for 2 years.
Really good news and good news—that’s what I thought about after I got home and reflected on my day.
All of the above good news happened between 9:00 and 10:30 Friday morning, but I got home about 4 pm. Hmmm….5.5 interesting hours that did not qualify as really good or even good news.
In addition to the good news, the CT scans also revealed the possibility of a blood clot in the inferior vena cava, which is the blood vessel that brings blood needing oxygen back to the heart. The scan showed something in the area above the renal veins that was questionable. After my treatment, I went to the imaging center for an abdominal ultrasound, and that seemed to make the possibility a bit more probable. More ultrasounds were ordered for my legs, and those thankfully were negative; however, the question remained about the IVC. As the oncologist implied when I made my way back to his office, nothing about my experience has been easy or typical. Although I’m not worried, now I’ve entered the world of daily blood thinners and regular blood tests and intentionally avoiding any injuries that could cause bleeding. No more cage fighting for me!
My other area of concern for the last three weeks has been neuropathy, which causes numbness in my feet. I have a med for that, but I’m told to expect this numbness and pain to take many months to heal, maybe even as long as a year.
Honestly, I had my doubts on Friday, and I wondered if these issues mean something that’s not good. Of course, my mind would go there, even though I had good news and really good news at the beginning of my day and my doctor feels that things look fine overall.
Ah, well. The more things change, the more things remain the same. Keeping my eyes on the author and finisher of my faith (Heb. 12:2) is my only option unless I want to crumple. I don’t want to crumple. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Heb. 13:8), and I can trust Him in all things. It always comes back to a matter of trust, doesn’t it? I have the choice, and I will choose to put my trust in you, Lord.
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you….
This I know, that God is for me.
In God, whose word I praise,
in the Lord, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I shall not be afraid.
What can man do to me ?…
For you have delivered my soul from death,
yes, my feet from falling,
that I may walk before God
in the light of life. (Psalm 56:3, 9-11, 13 ESV)
Upcoming dates and more opportunities for me to trust:
- Bloodwork on Monday, August 20
- Possible repeat ultrasound end of next week
- Chemo (Avastin) on Friday, Sept. 7
- PET scan, results from my doctor, and next Avastin treatment on Monday, Oct. 1