The week from hell.

Last Tuesday I met with my oncologist. It was just my routine check up.

Routine my fucking ass: she asked the ordinary questions, I answered them as honestly as possible, while keeping my dignity. Dr. Sanborn said my lungs looked great (comparatively speaking). She slowly brought it down to the nitty gritty. There was a growth in my adrenal gland. And from my answers to her questions, she ordered a full PET scan and a brain MRI.

Before I even left the oncology office I had appointments for the next day starting at 7:30AM for a PET scan and an MRI, and an appointment with Dr. Sanborn the day after. I heard stat and emergent so many times during the scheduling my head spun. For those of you unfamiliar with the movement of the medical industry, this was quicker than the speed of light. I came home and read the symptoms of lung cancer metastasized to the brain. Oh, fuck… so many. Now I knew why she thought it emergent.

Being ever calm and stable, I of course, jumped to the worst conclusion. I assumed I would be dead in a matter of months.  Sorry, been thru this before.

Well, Thursday proved me wrong. The brain MRI came back clear. There was this one little piece of shit that appeared out of nowhere in my Adrenal gland, but I already knew about it.

Yes, there is a chance, a remarkably remote chance, that it is benign.

So I had a biopsy yesterday. I’m no Pollyanna. The cancer is back.