MD's Radical Life Revision

Well I had another appt yesterday (to get the fine needle biopsy done on my lumpy boob). Turns out it's still normal tissue, no needle needed. Which was a relief.

Had a huge 15 min freak out after the dr who did the surgery (known only to me as "BEV") patted me on the arm and told me they were talking about my "histopathology" in their meeting that morning. Had an extended replay of the F*****************rk moment after she said that while I waited to see Dr Head Honcho. Turns out - once I finally got the rest of the info - it was a conversation about how totally random the gallbladder thing was, how it's completely unlikely to turn up anywhere else in my body and I *probably* won't need any further treatment (according to Mr Dr Pathologist).

So this afternoon I have my appt at the oncology clinic. The letter they sent informs me I have to go to their (bolded, capital letters) CANCER CENTRE - man couldn't they have called it something different?? (like Radical Life-Review Clinic LOL). So even after they told me all that reassuring stuff yesterday I'm still in a bit of a nervous lather about it today. Still uncomfortable about having *any* association with the "c-word".

MD, you are such an amazing woman! good on you for getting through yesterday with panache and style! (and thanks to all the beings that be that the biopsy showed up normal!). you rock! and YAY! for the Dr Pathologists comments, that has to be heartening to hear such positive thinking from ppl that are usually pretty gloomy.

yeah, cancer centre (apart from the alliteration) doesn't really have much going for it...maybe something like 'hitchhiker discovery centre'...;)

anyway, i am sending happy hugs your way!

xxooooox

That's a couple of bits of great news MD. Fingers crossed it was confined to the GB and that is the last we see of the little so and so.

Yeah i agree, the big C word is a shocker, it should be banned i say. I like radical life review clinic. ;) I was out walking yesterday and saw a local skin cancer clinic, and it was called............. "the barnacle centre" :o

Good luck this arvo. :hug:

Ange, I'm sitting here with tears of laughter at the "Barnacle Centre" :rofl:!

I also like your suggestion Clare. I might mention it at my appointment this afternoon, see if we can get the signs changed! LOL

Sounds like good news MD. :thumbsup: Hang in there.

:rofl: Haha at The Barnacle Centre! Hilarious!

Good luck this afternoon MD

LOL at Radical Life Review Clinic!!

So happy for you MD!!! :hug:
Hoping everything continues down this positive path :)

How did I miss this thread???? Sheesh!!! That's what you get for just relying on "New Posts" to keep you up to speed instead of thoroughly troweling each forum!

Goes without saying that you'll be in my thoughts and prayers too MaryDean! :hug:

Love your perspective though... your awareness alone will make this a "must read" thread for me from now on!!!

Keep us updated!

*more hugs*

Ok, well friday's appt can only be described - even three days later - as CONFRONTING.

I wasn't adequately prepared for the teeming mass of fantastically ill people (except me of course, hehe) all congregrating in the one place. One fabulously depressingly old-in-need-of-refurbishment-public-hospital-green place.

There weren't any consulting rooms available (they'd squeezed me in as an 'extra') so I had a looooong walk down to a treatment room, past what can only be described at The Pit. The Chemotherapy Pit. Imagine 4 stardard 4-bed ward rooms with their walls chopped down half way, each filled with 6 or so large armchair-couches. The entire space was full of people in various states of physical decay all getting their latest round of toxic chemicals pumped in. Obviously some of those people were sicker than others, but none of them wanted to be there, it was not a positive space to be in at all.

The actual consultation was very sobering as well. I suppose it's the Young Doctor's job to be pessimistic (it's his job to think to worst so that they can find what they need to) but there was none of the reassurances that I had from the surgical drs the other day. They are in the business of knowing the worst news so there was no joviality whatsoever. Where's Patch Adams when you need him? Anyway I'm to have some more tests this week...referred to as "staging" tests (to determine the extent/ferocity of any cancer and therefore give it a term like "stage 1" or "stage 4").

So on Wed and Thurs I will be having a bone marrow biopsy (which turns out to be a bigger deal than I thought - with fasting and sedation, and resting afterwards, etc) and a PET scan. Then it's an 8 day wait (for results, they have to consult over my very unusual "presentation"). There's a possibility that the results will either be definitive (detecting very definite signs of lymphoma elsewhere in my body) or unclear (hmm, maybe sorta possibly signs in the bone marrow) so even then it may not be clear cut, in terms of the information they get from the tests. Of course after witnessing The Pit, I'm hoping like hell that chemotherapy - even precautionary - isn't a part of it. So I'll be having a ****load of getting zen for the next fortnight.

Even so, in the midst of all of this - I'm aware that this is an exercise in learning about my fear - and how to put it to one side and walk the path that lies before me. To live life to the very fullest no matter what each day brings. It's easy to get wrapped up in my own little dramas when people all around me live the most extraordinary lives - just a day ago one of my dear friends told me about her sister who is going through yet another round of chemo for her metasticised bowel cancer. Her sister does it with grace and calmness, "gets on with it", gets on with LIFE. My friend commented that if it was her with the diagnosis she would be "curled up in a suicidal ball." She was of course entirely unaware of my situation when she said this. But it made me think. Whenever anything "bad" happens in life, you have a choice - despair, or hope.

I choose hope!!!

Is this thread updating...not sure if anyone can see my previous post??

ETA- ok that looks better now.

MD - :hug: love the new title..... it might have changed the subscription though, I didn't get an email to say you'd updated the thread.
Wow what a bizarre and scary experience. You seem amazingly calm and centred though. Thinking of you and :pray: that you don't need to go there..... full of admiration for the attitude you're bringing to this, you're inspiring. :clap::clap::clap:

MD you are such a strong and wise person - and I am glad but not surprised you are choosing HOPE (do you think this has something to do with miss e's middle name).

It sounds very scary but also as positive as it can be iykwim. i am always thinking of you.
I hope and know that something positive will come (and is already) out of all of this.
Have you told H?
xxxx

PP - I was just thinking while I was writing how significant E's name has become to me - she represents Hope more than I could've imagined when we were naming her! No we haven't told H yet either - none of my parents or close friends know, just keeping a low profile until we have more information. I'm still hoping I'll be able to announce that I HAD this dysfunction in my body but now it's gone, kwim?

Marydean you are such an amazing person and an inspiration. It will haelp you tremendously that you believe in yourself and remain strong. Ikwym about not telling people and waiting for the outcome, i hope and pray you achieve a positive result.

:

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I wasn't adequately prepared for the teeming mass of fantastically ill people (except me of course, hehe) all congregrating in the one place. One fabulously depressingly old-in-need-of-refurbishment-public-hospital-green place.

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Oh MD, I can't tell you just how much I can relate to this. I found myself in a similarly green place a few years back, a 27 year old mum of a 12 month old baby girl, 10 weeks prg with a mass on my ovary which 'needed urgent further investigation'. The women in head scarves were just so surreal to me, I couldn't believe it was ME sitting there with them.

I'll never forget the Dr introducing herself and asking me, making me say out loud, what an 'oncologist' was. It was one of the scariest days of my life.

I have a good feeling about this and I'm sure your story will end as well as mine.

Sending you positive thoughts and prayers. I hope this is over for you soon. :hug:

Wow MD, sounds like a big day. Oncology is never the brightest of places, but remember good stories come from there as well as the bad ones.

If i can help you out with any info about your PET scan let me know. :hug:

I think you are handling this all amazingly well. You continue to impress me lady. ;)

MD - I think someone should film you and make an inspirational film about how to handle lifes hurdles! It's wonderfully inspiring.

Not sure whereabouts in OZ land you are but maybe there are some community organisations looking for projects that you could suggest brightening up the "cancer centre" perhaps even with a new sign with a new name :-)

Oh MD just want you to know that I am thinking of you :comfort: