The Masochist, the MRI and Me
Yesterday was MRI morning. Woohoo - we'd have another bit of news.
- heh - no luck. The facility had no docs in to go through any of what they saw. So I came home clueless. I don't know why I fell asleep twice before the day was over but some of it was probably for escape and the rest sheer exhaustion.
As a sidenote, compared to the kind of care and tender kindness I've had so far from Doctor Rose at Washington Radiology Associates Cascades office, the MRI prep was abrupt and jarring at the Fairfax office.
The tech that prepped me gave me no information whatsoever and was annoyed with the vein she had to work with. She was rough, she was abrupt and thinking back I should have been more annoyed than she was and way more outspoken. I think I was stunned.
The Fairfax office staff even answered phones as I was speaking with them. It was as if the pateint, was a name not a person. This should have given me my first clue I wasn't in the Cascades office anymore.
In August when I had my mini stroke, the MRI - even though the equipment was totally enclosed and in a dark windowless room in the basement of Reston Hospital Center - was louder and scarier but less an ordeal because of the staff involved.
The important part however is the outcome. All this report should do is tell us how far the cancer has spread in the area they scanned. This should give us a number and perhaps a letter to go with it - like stage lla, or lll.
A 0 is best but we already have lab confirmation of what Dr, Rose and I knew Thursday - though I could not put a name to it. This is invasive lobular carcinoma so we already know this one is not a 0. My bet after seeing the ultrasound as it was being done is that we're talking at least stage ll.
Hopefully I'll have some news today - or will call my personal doc when she's in the office tomorrow, Thursday. But its now 9AM and I'm whipped. Time for my morning nap. Changes are afoot for sure
Susan, been following you on twitter, but wanted to give you a substantial virtual hug and thanks for so boldly talking about your recovery. Twitter gives a little picture.. your blog moves me to tears, wanting to let you know you are appreciated!
Posted by: Dawn Mular | Dec 12, 2007 at 11:39 PM
You are amazing, Ms. Boobs on Ice! I've read medical studies showing that prayer and meditation help patients heal faster ... before this is all over, doctors may announce that blogging has a place in the arsenal of weapons against cancer.
Posted by: Connie Reece | Dec 12, 2007 at 11:41 PM
Love, hugs, good thoughts and prayers all headed your way. We're definitely here for you as much as we in the internets can be. You will let us know how we can help when there is help needed, yes?
Posted by: Kim Fenolio | Dec 12, 2007 at 11:50 PM
I'm loving you guys back, and think the Boobs on Ice blog is an idea whose time has come.
Though I'm addicted to the almost immediate feedback I get when I tweet, it gives people only a snippet of the timeline and no place to go for more when they are left scratching their heads about what I just said.
So here's probably where I'll tell the rest of the story, and where I'll be really glad I've got such a great cheering section.
Posted by: Susan Reynolds | Dec 13, 2007 at 01:56 PM