D-Day

The news is starting to spread, so I’ll start at the start and let the good news speak for itself.

It was D-day. Time for scans, and I was so incredibly nervous leading up to it, some may say I was even rude, nasty or even a bit of a bitch, but we can just leave that up to individual interpretation. I’m not very good at scans, I get really nervous, feel exposed and believe it is one of the most lonely places imaginable. Not to mention the needles and injections, they aren’t a barrel of laughs either. Especially when the first cannula they put in me was faulty, so they had to jab me twice! Everything combined got a bit much, and as I was supposed to be lying still whilst the PET does it’s thing, I shed a few tears. After the PET, I had a CT, and I still don’t know the difference or even what it is that they exactly show. But after two and a half hours, I was done.

I went up to ward 1 West to see some friendly faces, and when Necia greated me, the tears were back! I didn’t know how much I missed them. They have been an integral part of this experience, and I had missed their company. It was so good to be able to visit them, and for them to see how well I was doing.

My appointment was made for 4.15pm on a Friday afternoon… I got in to see George at 7.15pm. It is very reassuring when he greats you with “Hello young Rachael,” and “How are you Mark?” Followed by, “I have some very good news for you…” George showed me my original scans, and there were so many green spots; even under my armpit which I wasn’t even aware of to begin with. My reaction was still one of shock, I still can’t believe I had that amount of cancer in me for so long. He then showed me the scans I had that morning… IT WAS ALL GONE! There was nothing there! I could’ve cried for the third time that day, but I held it together. Dad was smiling, I was chuffed, so much so that when George read the report and said there is still a tiny amount in still in my chest, I didn’t actually care. The treatment was not just working, but it had worked!

Whilst I was expected to have a good response to the treatment, this sort of response was unthinkable, George even used the word remission, WOOHOO!

The end is in sight my friends and I now know that I have exactly three cycles, (six treatments) left of my new normal. It’s all down hill from here, and all I have to do is tick them off

 

Only three months until I can say that I don’t have cancer anymore, and by Christmas I’ll be done and dusted.