Today I had my halfway-done-with-chemo-PET scan to see where things stand. I hope to hear back from Dr. Gimelfarb tomorrow. At the latest, it’ll be Monday, when I go in for chemo round 4.
It was quite a chemo-addled-brain trip. I really should have been paying more attention, since I was going to a different hospital than usual (mine doesn’t do PETs). I should have taken Route 41, but instead took I-94 (on auto pilot for going to my usual hospital). I was on the phone with my brother, who suggested I just take Route 22 across. Made sense. Then I got disracted talking to him, so I missed the exit for 22. I turned around at Lake Cook and listened to Google Maps, which told me to take Deerfield Road.Dumb move – I should have Wayzed it. Traffic was at a crawl, especially as I got closer to downtown Highland Park. Wayze would have let me know about the accident in the middle of where I had to go. Amazingly, I was only 10 minutes late.
I stopped in first at the Kellogg Cancer Center there so a nice nurse named Jo could access my port (so much better than a traditional IV). Then, I headed downstairs to nuclear medicine. All that fun radioactivity is kept to the basement – I suppose they don’t want to make everyone glow in the dark. Just a select few. First, Angie (my tech) checked to make sure my glucose level was low enough (77), then she connected me to the lead pig that contained the glow-juice.
A few seconds later, and those radioactive isotopes were starting their marathon around my body. I had to sit around while they made their journey. I figured I’d catch up on Facebook. But, my battery had dropped from about 80% to 30% since I’d left the house (what?!). I didn’t bring my charger, or my iPad. Luckily, Angie was kind enough to let me borrow her charger so I could get my social media fix. An hour later, and it was time for my closeup.
I got all comfy on the narrow, hard, oddly concave table, and Angie popped my Andy Grammer CD (I had to actually burn it from iTunes) into the boom box (yes, I said boom box!), and into the tube I went. The scan took about 20 minutes, from the top of my head to my knees. I even dozed off a bit. And then it was done.
In other news, I’ve had no more hot flashes since I last posted. Let’s keep it that way, shall we? Also, I love that if I feel like taking a nap, I do – and without guilt. I figure I’m entitled, with all the cancer and poison in my body. Though, I’m hoping the cancer is gone – I know it’s at least greatly diminished because I feel so much better than I did before we started this adventure towards curing me.
Michelle – I knew you would be able to relate.
Margo – W KNEE 40? Really? Bwaaa haaa haaa!
If I hear anything tomorrow, I’ll be sure to let you know. Otherwise, see y’all on Monday!
Original Comments from the CaringBridge Blog:
google maps will eat up your battery every time.
—Jodi McKee, June 12, 2015
I love that a nurse named Jo was your first stop. That had to be comforting! “What a trip!” Keep kickin’ tail, lady!
—Lauri Harvey Keagle, June 12, 2015
Don’t talk and drive. You already have chemo brain plus Fink genes which are addling enough. DON’T LOOK FOR MORE DISTRACTIONS!!!! Focus, or as Sam Fink would have said, FUCK US!
—margo barbakow, June 11, 2015
Why do you refer to it as a pig? Love you
—Adrienne Meyer, June 11, 2015