Thursday, January 04, 2007
So Long, Reappearing Eyebrows
Brian got worried while processing nursing and oncology journals at work, and contacted Lita, who left a message for me to call her back.
My blood tests may warrant new scans after all.
I am seriously considering begging for some alternative to the CT scan, which involves drinking copious amounts of barium, a substance which is also famous for being used to give people enemas. It's nasty. The last time I got so icked out over the prospect of drinking it that I yakked into the waste basket in the doctor's office waiting area. I love it not.
Brian seemed to think Lita will want me to have scans before my next appointment in two weeks. On the one hand, I think one might as well be prompt about treating problems. On the other hand, I wish I didn't know about any of this and could spend the next two weeks feeling brazenly optimistic before the deflating: your break may be over.
I don't even know what she's going to say, but I imagine my tumor markers are creeping up and the wonky liver results are "of concern." Then the scans will show increased tumor activity and there will be some head-scratching over whether or not this is resumed activity or whether things had started to progress while I was still taking Abraxane.
I would imagine the next step is to try Abraxane again to see if it continues to beat back the invasion. If not, we switch to another therapy and hope it lasts long enough for science to come up with new alternatives when the current one fails. Luckily I still have several choices.
I wonder if the follicles on my scalp will again go nuts and begin flinging hair onto my shoulders and pillowcase. I wonder if my eyebrows will fall out again. I have five o'clock shadow at the inner corners and actually tweezed the other day. I will be sad to see those hard-earned hairs go.
My blood tests may warrant new scans after all.
I am seriously considering begging for some alternative to the CT scan, which involves drinking copious amounts of barium, a substance which is also famous for being used to give people enemas. It's nasty. The last time I got so icked out over the prospect of drinking it that I yakked into the waste basket in the doctor's office waiting area. I love it not.
Brian seemed to think Lita will want me to have scans before my next appointment in two weeks. On the one hand, I think one might as well be prompt about treating problems. On the other hand, I wish I didn't know about any of this and could spend the next two weeks feeling brazenly optimistic before the deflating: your break may be over.
I don't even know what she's going to say, but I imagine my tumor markers are creeping up and the wonky liver results are "of concern." Then the scans will show increased tumor activity and there will be some head-scratching over whether or not this is resumed activity or whether things had started to progress while I was still taking Abraxane.
I would imagine the next step is to try Abraxane again to see if it continues to beat back the invasion. If not, we switch to another therapy and hope it lasts long enough for science to come up with new alternatives when the current one fails. Luckily I still have several choices.
I wonder if the follicles on my scalp will again go nuts and begin flinging hair onto my shoulders and pillowcase. I wonder if my eyebrows will fall out again. I have five o'clock shadow at the inner corners and actually tweezed the other day. I will be sad to see those hard-earned hairs go.
Labels: Abraxane, baldness, barium, blood tests, bone scan, Brian, CT scan, eyebrows, hair, Lita, nausea
