Last week I got the results of my latest 3-month blood tests and CT scans, or as I like to call it The Quarterly Scareholders Meeting.
The scan anxiety has increased as I get further from treatment. Maybe it just seems that way because it’s more immediate and I don’t remember how bad it was in the midst of everything else a year ago. I spend the week or so before the scan freaking out, and the week between the scan and seeing my oncologist freaking out even more, especially since the blood test results go into my chart like 15 minutes after they poke me and I can see all the numbers. It’s not a great way to live, but at least I am alive.
This time my bloodwork was the tiniest itsy-bistiest abnormal. Not in the Liver or Kidney zones, but my red blood cells were like, lazy and some of my white blood cells were extra-white, I guess. Nothing out of control, just a bit outside the lines, and of course that made the little demons in the back of my head start whispering about leukemia, which is a risk with chemo.
This all means the week leading up to the oncology appointment was extra thrilling for me from a mental health standpoint. I basically felt like I just turned off the light and was sprinting up the basement stairs so the ghosts don’t get me for all my waking moments.
The clinic was so busy when I got there that they were bringing people in for vitals, and then kicking us back to the standing-room-only waiting area before consultation because they were out of exam rooms. This is partly because it was Wednesday morning and Wednesdays are apparently a big chemo day and you gotta go to the clinic before you go to chemo, so it was a lot of tense faces and people girding their loins for the bad day ahead. I am me, and so I was the most cheerful person in the building because something about the cancer center makes me into fucking Patch Adams or something. I helped some new patients find their check in, and got some coffee for someone, and basically tried not to be a jerk for 45 minutes while I waited to see my doctor.
The visit was fine. The scan results were late, but they ran more bloodwork right in the office and things were much more normal and my weightloss is from exercise and lack of pizza and not from my body eating away at itself and so they kicked me out and said “see you in 3 months, we’ll call you if the scan is scary” and away with me.
The scan was not scary. It was extra-normal. I have no new spots. The thing on my kidney is stable. All my tubes are where they are supposed to be and doing what they are supposed to be. The meat that is me, is well-marbled and aged to perfection.
Speaking of, I *do* have a beef with my insurance company, because when the scan authorization request was sent to them they responded “3 month scan?! This guy doesn’t have stage 2 or 3 cancer!” (which is right, it’s stage 4) and they denied coverage. The denial was emailed to one person, and snail mailed to another. My PA who is out on maternity leave got the email, or rather did not get it, because she is out dealing with a brand new human. I got the snail mail, but not until the day before the scan. I called the clinic about it and asked if I should just skip the scan because I do not have $12000 laying around and they said they were working on a peer-to-peer call with the insurance company. Unfortunately my scan was at 7am the next morning and by the time the call happened the insurance doc was all “why are you calling about something that already happened?” and now I am mired in bureaucracy trying to figure out who needs a letter signed by a doctor saying that I needed it and then we fight over the money.
Anyway, still here to be doing that and unless something surprising kills me sooner my fight to the draw with cancer ends sometime later than sooner.
Happy International Asteroid Day! I hope you all get together to celebrate with your loved ones.