Today I will hear my scan report. I admit a bit of nervous stomach as I head to the lab for a port draw before the doctor appointment. As usual, I breathe a sigh of relief at the first sign of red tinge indicating that the port is in good working order and I will not have to stand on my head to get it to work. Then I head back down the hallway toward the waiting area for my appointment.
For a change, they call me within minutes of checking in, and usher me to a consultation room. I chat with the nurse a few minutes as she updates my records. They have a new system that provides instant online access to everything. No more paper charts. The nurse gets all my meds, past and present, accounted for and verified. A one time only event, then it will all be accessible at the push of a button. She struggles a bit to remember how to navigate and where to find the lists of meds to select from.
Then she swishes out, the door closing behind her, and I am left alone, thoughts racing, heart thumping. I am sure everything is fine. I am sure there is nothing new going on. But I will be at ease after I hear it from the doctor's mouth.
She breezes in, and asks how my recital went. We chat about recordings of the Lord's Prayer (she collects various versions) and she would like a recording of my recital [I am still trying to get something valid from Kiel]. At last, she turns to the business at hand. Together, we pour over the computer screen while she clicks here and there, fumbling a bit at the new interface. We finally come to the latest report.
It's clean. A good report. Yes, there are evidences of the treatment, the most prominent being a slight hernia from the biopsies in the abdominal area. But the enlargement that showed up last time is shrinking. It all looks good. Levels are good. Sweet! I am to keep on the chemo regimen for 3 more years. Then we will assess next steps. So in a week, the final chemo of year one, but we are good to go. Yes!
1 comment:
So glad for the clean scan!
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