I Get Knocked Down, but I Get Up Again

Waiting for scan results is one of the most emotionally draining things I seem to do on a regular basis. On September 18, 2018, I had my last stable scan. My next scan after that, December 11th, (thanks, iCal), seemed to be the start of what became a pretty significant avalanche. That scan showed progression – not terrible, but enough to warrant a treatment change. That treatment ended up being a clinical trial, which required another set of scans in late December, and a bone biopsy in January. And then another bone biopsy in February. And then February scans, which were technically stable, but had a small but mysterious liver lesion taking shape (although at this point, it was too small to do anything but watch it). After those scans, I had a brain MRI in March, which led to the discovery of the two small brain metastases. That required a second brain MRI in April, the very intensive brain lab, and subsequent brain radiation CT simulation. Following that, of course, was the brain radiation itself, but also a CT and bone scan to see if the brain was indicative of any further progression. And since the liver spot was slowly getting bigger, it warranted further surveilance in May, when I had another abdominal CT scan, as well as a spine MRI and a liver biopsy.

Which brings us to today. June, 2019, my two-month follow up brain MRI. In the last six months, I’ve had a PET scan, two bone biopsies, a liver biopsy, three brain MRIs, a spine MRI, stereotactic targeted brain radiation, a brain CT, three bone scans, and four CT scans. Thirteen scans, three biopsies, and brain radiation. And of those thirteen scans, none of them were stable (one was stable-ish, but in hindsight, it wasn’t something to hang your hat on).

Until today – my two month follow up brain MRI was stable. I feel myself holding my breath just thinking that, and trying to type it out. Both lesions shrunk to the point where they are inactive and can’t tell if they are scar tissue or cancerous lesions, but it doesn’t matter, because they are not bigger, and there are no more of them. For now, but now is really all that we  – I – have. And once I emotionally recover from the utter and total exhaustion that was waiting for these results, I’m going to let myself celebrate a little bit.

10 thoughts on “I Get Knocked Down, but I Get Up Again

  1. Oh my gosh, I was holding my breath while reading this, I’m so happy for your good news!!!
    A celebration is definitely in order!!


  2. Wow!! You’ve been through the wringer. Try to celebrate the good news. Hope you are able to put one foot in front of the other and focus on love and gratitude Try to put the fear in “full or at least partial remission”.


  3. Breathe girl! Your strength is amazing. You are alive! the human spirit is something that keeps us going in situations that can be unbelievably unfair and mentally cruel. I have always been in awe of our ability to adapt and you have just proven that! Thanks for sharing!


  4. I am delighted to hear the good news! In this business, status quo is a victory. Your indomitable determination to beat this nightmare is truly inspiring. I hear people bitching about all the rain we’ve had or how the traffic is horrific in the summer and your reality puts life in perspective. Keep up the fight! I am so very proud to call you my friend!


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