hipgrandma's Cancer Blog
January 7, 2007
| not quite over (but good news, too!) | Views: 128 |
I had the pet scan on Tuesday—such an unpleasant experience. Let me sum it up by saying that the hospital waited till the last minute before a holiday weekend to get insurance approval, so, naturally, they didn’t get it. We had to pay $3000 upfront for the test and may or may not ever get any of that back. After all that, it turns out that Mt. Sinai Hospital outsources their pet scans and the test is done in a truck! VERY unimpressive. If, heaven forbid, you live in Miami and need a pet scan or MRI, don’t go to Mt. Sinai. Pet scans are much better at Sylvester.
Since waiting is the worst part of the cancer experience (for me as well as many, many others) I was a freakin’ basket case by Thursday afternoon. Previously I’ve never had to wait longer than 24 hours for imaging results, and when Pam does cat scans at Jackson, we see the results immediately (as in get off the table, get dressed, go in the other room to see the images while Pam interprets them). I’m sorry to say that I fell completely to pieces on Thursday afternoon and drove poor Dan insane. He had to call radiation oncology about 20 times that day (at my insistent behest) to see if the results had come in yet, and then they finally did arrive late that afternoon.
I’m sorry to make you wait so long for the good news—the precaval node that was the area of treatment these last months is now CLEAR of malignant activity. Hooray! So all that radiation and chemo was not for naught. I’d like to feel free to have an all out celebration, but there’s a new wrinkle of concern. Last August’s pet scan showed a slight uptake of the radioactive glucose (yuck!) in my left parotid (salivary) gland, but at the time ALL the doctors (including Pam, gyn/onc, nuclear medicine specialist at Sylvester, tumor board at Sylvester, gyn/onc at Sloan-Kettering and tumor board at Sloan-Kettering) felt that there was no need for concern. This time, however, it got worse, and now they are worried.
The “glowing” on a pet scan is called the SUV. This is the measurement of how the parts of the body absorb the radioactive glucose. Cancer cells really suck this stuff up, and when you look at the pet scan image, you see little glowing lights where the cancer is. Other areas can mildly glow for other reasons, though, hence the previous lack of concern re: my parotid gland. The SUV scale seems to be approx 0-13, although there is no strictly defined upper end of the scale. The aug pet scan showed an SUV of 3.6 for the parotid and 10.9 for the malignant lymph node. 3.6 was apparently below the level of any concern, but this time the SUV for the parotid was 8.3, which was a rather huge jump.
The next day (Friday) we went to see the radiation oncologist. We looked at the images together and he palpated the jaw and neck, feeling nothing. There is a chance that this is inflammation due to dental problems, but he thinks it’s a little far away from the dental area for that to be the case. Dan and I are frantically thinking, “what to do next?” Like find all new doctors, what kind of doctors, etc, when the radiation onc said I should come on Tuesday to their Head and Neck Conference where a panel of experts in various fields having to do with head and neck cancer will examine me and discuss my case.
Reasons why it probably isn’t cancer: the SUV went way up after chemo instead of down. Chemo attacks cells all over the body so if this was cancer, the chemo should have made it less instead of more. Also, while chemo attacks the cancer cells, it also attacks fast-growing healthy cells, making your hair fall out, etc. One of the most problematic areas during chemo is the mouth and lots of people need major dental work after going through chemotherapy.
In other words, there’s plenty of reason to believe that this is the forewarning of major dental work and not a further instance of cancer.
Oh yeah, and I saw dolphins and manatees today and also I got a new lovely kitten last week (abandoned in the park!) whose name is Laxmi. She is only six weeks old and weighs 1.8 pounds.
not quite over (but good news, too!), 
3 comments)
01.09.07 - 
Thanks for your support -
I am so happy to hear the precaval node is clear of maliganat activitiy. Thank god! That is such good news. I will be crossing my fingers that you just need some dental work. I am sure your body is working hard to get back to a new normal healthy state – after chemo putting so many things out of whack.
Darling,
I continue to be awed by your profound courage, glorious grace and unfathomable fortitude in the face of such overwhelming challenges. You are an inspiration to me well beyond words. I am blessed to live life at your side.
Hey, you’re doing fine! It’s like eating an elephant—one bite at a time. Just keep taking the next bite.