It was just another day at the hospital, except that it wasn't quite the same. I had to go back to the chemo room as a patient again. But instead of the usual five-hour infusion, I only had to be hooked up to the machine for about 20 minutes. I was getting a drug that will strengthen my bones. And I talked with my nurse the whole time, so the minutes flew by.
Then it was off to the MRI. This was another one on my spine. I had a spine MRI about six weeks ago or so, and they read it as clean. But then the PET scan last week lit up, so this one is to get a more precise location on the tumors for radiation, or whatever treatment we decide on. It's still unclear if I can have radiation, or if we need to try something else.
As you all know, I'm a pretty big guy, and the MRI tube is relatively small, so it's a tight squeeze. So tight, that my right arm went to sleep. And I was in there for more than an hour. My doctor had warned me about changes in sensation in my arms and legs, because of the tumor threat to my spine. So I'm lying in the machine, wondering if that was starting? I knew better, of course, and it was fine as soon as I could move it. With nothing else to distract you, your mind can always find things to worry about.
But this isn't like any other scan day. I'm not worrying about the results, not counting the hours until I find out what's there. No, I already know what's there. There's no suspense, and there's no fear. So next up is a meeting with the doctors to try to figure out what we're going to do. I want to continue to be aggressive, continue to attack the tumors as soon as they show up, but not everyone may agree with that.