My Cancer Journey - The Next Steps

 

On August 5, 2023, I woke up at home for the first time in ten days. It was lovely not to be awakened to have my vital taken or my roommate buzz for the nurse at O’dark early. 

The most significant adjustment was feeding myself through the tube. However, even that was becoming a habit, even though it had only been a few days since I used it. I worked out a schedule to do three feedings a day.

I was also looking forward to the upcoming oncologist appointment. I had roughly figured out his fist moves, chemo port and a PET scan. These were two steps that Valerie had done before her first actual chemo treatment. I spent the remainder of the weekend resting and getting some of my strength back. Having not eaten much since mid-July, my strength and energy level were at an all-time low. My weight was also below what I had been in high school. I bottomed out at 158 pounds, which was down from 240 pounds. 

On Monday, we went to see my oncologist, and it was refreshing to see the old faces of him and his nurse. Not only were those two there, but his old PA had also returned to the practice. I hoped I would never have to see any of them again, but having them for my healthcare team meant a great deal. 

When the doctor came in, he was pretty blunt. Being stage four in cancer is terminal. There is no cure since the cancer has moved from its original location to a secondary location. He outlined the suggested treatment: chemo with immune therapy every two weeks. Yes, doing treatment was totally up to me. But he told me without treatment, I had a few months. But with it, I was looking at years. I told Valerie I would see Lexi make it through high school, so yes, I was doing treatment. Not doing treatment was never part of the equation.

I was told the next steps would be a chemo port and a PET scan. The PET scan looks at the body on a cellular level. It uses a radioactive tracer to view every place cancer could be. The CT I had gave a rough overview of where the cancer was. I spoke to the doctor about possibly going back to work. Again, he was rather blunt and honest. He told me the cold, hard truth: I would be in treatment for the foreseeable future, and it would be best for me to apply for disability.

Honestly, I was not expecting to be told some of the things I was on my first visit, but at the same time, it made my resolve far more resolute. 

On August 10th I had my chemo port implanted. This was an odd procedure since I was awake the entire time. My chest was numb, and I was in a very dazed state. One of the drugs they gave me was fentanyl. Yes, you read that right. I joked with the PA when he told me about that. He laughed and assured me they didn’t “buy it on the corner.”

As I was lying on the table to have the port put, the nurse covered my face with a towel. I could feel the pressure on my skin as they cut into it. Then I could feel tugging as they put the port in and fed the small tube under my skin to the vein in my neck. Yeah, it was a little strange feeling. Things went quickly, and I was back in the car riding home before too long. 

Back home, it was time to rest and let the pain from the waning anesthetic come. I called my mom and texted my sister, letting them know I was doing well. The time for my first chemo appointment was coming quickly, Monday, August 14th. Little did I know that I was also around 24 hours from having my life thrown into a major loop.