Don’t Worry

Saturday, April 20

On Tuesday I had another spinal MRI.

I’m in some sort of research psychosocial program at my oncology hospital and I have a therapist.  I’m not sure what good it’s doing me.  All I do is talk…and  I can do that with my friends.

Last time I saw her she said, “Do you get anxious when you are going to have CT Scans, MRI’s and other tests”.  I said, “No”.  She looked at me quizzically and said, “Why not?”.  “Well, actually,” I told her, “I kind of like having MRI’s.  I get in there, pretend I’m going for a day in the spa and feel refreshed when leaving.  I like the magnets.  It makes my back feel better.  Maybe it’s those rods in my back.  There is something to be said for magnetic therapy because I feel like I had a massage when it’s over.”  She looked at me like I was nuts, smiled, and said I was the first person who ever said that.  What can I say?

So I’m good with the tests, but I don’t like waiting for the results.  That’s what gets me anxious…going to see the doctors for results.  I told her about my LTD oncology nurse Linda, who usually gets my results in a couple of days and tells me what’s going on BEFORE I see my doctors.  That always helps because I have time to digest good/bad news and can prepare myself for the questions I need to ask.

The only problem is that sometimes the advice I’m getting from Linda (who has a whole team of doctors giving there opinions) is sometimes different from the advice I’m getting from the hospital.  This is happening yet again.

In May 2011, my advisors told me to get off the Tamoxifen (which gave me the stroke), now they are telling me to get back on it.  And now, the hospital’s doctors who at first told me to stay on the Tamoxifen are telling me to stay on the Fulvestrant.

Well, I’m not liking the fulvestrant.  My feet are KILLING me and I get rip-roaring headaches which I’m not enjoying either.  And something is going on with my muscles.  Yesterday I woke up barely able to move my right arm because my shoulder was hurting so bad.  It felt like dead weight.

So I complained to my radiologist yesterday.  I told him that it’s been hurting me for about a month probably due to the fact that I was throwing volleyballs to some kids…don’t ask.  As a result, I was whisked to the X-ray department.  He did give me good news though while I was there; the five new spots on my spine are okay.  I’m guessing that means they aren’t growing now that I’m on this new medication.

At 4:00 when I didn’t hear from him about the x-ray, I was thinking I was safe.

At 4:05, I got the call.  “Don’t worry”…he started.  “Oh S*** now what!,” I’m thinking.  There were some “Rough Spots” on your x-ray that need to be looked at, so I’m sending you for a CT Scan and a Bone Scan.  The hospital will phone you with the appointment times.  It may just be degenerative.  But I don’t want you to worry.

 I don’t think he realizes that he is speaking to the Queen

when it comes to Worrying.

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