2008 is fast coming to a close, and I have never been this glad to see the end of a year.
Holloween was over but mine was just starting. Last November 14, I had a bone scan. During the procedure, I was quite uneasy for reasons unknown to me and humankind. When I got home from the procedure, I got a call from the hospital asking me to bring in my old bone scan plates (which they said they didn't need when I tried to leave the plates earlier in the day) again for comparison. Uh-oh.
I got my results on the 18th, and the dreaded "...metastases cannot be totally ruled out; suggest further radiological study." (or something like that) was in the bone scan reading. I emailed my scan results (it's print-out now, not plates) to my radio-oncologist friend, and she was likewise concerned about some "abnormal activities in the L3 and L4 areas." On the 20th, there was an Orthopedic convention, which my brother and sister-in-law attended. I went to see them, bringing my plates with me and showed the same to them. They showed it to our friend who happens to be one of the best ortho-oncologist in the country, and Dr. Edward Wang said it's most likely arthritis; but if we really want to be sure, we can do an MRI and/or a bone biopsy.
I understood then the saying about having the proverbial axe hanging over one's head.
Like a lamb being led to the slaughterhouse, I obediently did the MRI. Being claustrophobic, this was no small feat for me. Lying very still for 30 minutes in a cylinder with banging sounds literally bouncing off the walls, it was a wonder I didn't hyperventilate. Then, I was told by the technician that they have to inject a contrast dye. That cannot be good, I thought, for if it is just arthritis, then contrast won't be needed. So, I have to lay still for another 20 minutes or so. Bugger.
When I got my MRI reading two days after, my breath caught at the words "metastatic neoplasm." The reading cannot commit whether the lesions seen were indeed mets or not. Okay, the axe over my head just start swinging.
I took my MRI plates to one of the best spine surgeon in the country, Dr. Adrian Catbagan, who is also a good friend, he wanted bone biopsy to rule out mets for sure. I concurred with his opinion. When Dr. Wang saw my MRI plates, he asked me to seek for a second opinion with a medical oncologist he'll refer.
I got my results on the 18th, and the dreaded "...metastases cannot be totally ruled out; suggest further radiological study." (or something like that) was in the bone scan reading. I emailed my scan results (it's print-out now, not plates) to my radio-oncologist friend, and she was likewise concerned about some "abnormal activities in the L3 and L4 areas." On the 20th, there was an Orthopedic convention, which my brother and sister-in-law attended. I went to see them, bringing my plates with me and showed the same to them. They showed it to our friend who happens to be one of the best ortho-oncologist in the country, and Dr. Edward Wang said it's most likely arthritis; but if we really want to be sure, we can do an MRI and/or a bone biopsy.
I understood then the saying about having the proverbial axe hanging over one's head.
Like a lamb being led to the slaughterhouse, I obediently did the MRI. Being claustrophobic, this was no small feat for me. Lying very still for 30 minutes in a cylinder with banging sounds literally bouncing off the walls, it was a wonder I didn't hyperventilate. Then, I was told by the technician that they have to inject a contrast dye. That cannot be good, I thought, for if it is just arthritis, then contrast won't be needed. So, I have to lay still for another 20 minutes or so. Bugger.
When I got my MRI reading two days after, my breath caught at the words "metastatic neoplasm." The reading cannot commit whether the lesions seen were indeed mets or not. Okay, the axe over my head just start swinging.
I took my MRI plates to one of the best spine surgeon in the country, Dr. Adrian Catbagan, who is also a good friend, he wanted bone biopsy to rule out mets for sure. I concurred with his opinion. When Dr. Wang saw my MRI plates, he asked me to seek for a second opinion with a medical oncologist he'll refer.
All right, so I went to see the doctor (this is already first week of December). She reviewed my medical history, which have gotten quite thick (i think it's half inch now). Her opinion is that at best, it is most likely arthritis; but since cancer is known for its tyranny, she said the best option is to do a PET scan, which in non-invasive, or do a bone biopsy (as a last resort). My jaw dropped at the mention of PET scan; for only one hospital in the whole country has that, and four years ago, they were charging somewhere between 50,000.00 to 75,000.00. I wanted to clutch my chest, fall on the floor with my mouth foaming, and to start shaking like crazy. Taking a deep breath, I asked if I can just go straight to biopsy; for there's that chance that the PET scan still cannot totally rule out mets. I'm going to save me some 75,000.00 to 100,000.00. Suddenly, arthritis has never been more attractive!
I woke up bright and early (thanks to the alarm clock) on the morning of the 15th feeling surprisingly calm. When we got to the hospital (PGH), we processed me to get a blue card so as to have a case number that was needed for the OR. Once we got that, we went up to the operating rooms of the Orthopedic Department, waiting for my turn. We were scheduled for the 2nd case of the day, which should be around 10:00. We found out around 9:30 that the first case is a bilateral knee replacement procedure, and not one knee as we originally thought; meaning, I'll be on by 1:00 PM.
So, we waited at the Orthopedic Department. Everyone there seems to know that I'm up for biopsy. Friends reassure me, saying that all will be well. I smiled and could not help but be touched by the outpour of support and love - that almost sent me crying.
I finally changed into a hospital gown by 1:00, trying hard not to moon people as I walked to my assigned operating room. This is fun, I thought, how many patients get to walk to their operating room? Pigs, cows, sheep, lambs, perhaps; but people? I was feeling like a star, saying hi and waving to the doctors I meet along the way. When I saw my medical team that will do the biopsy, I am happy for all the major players are friends. I'm in good hands.
When they checked my blood pressure, even I was impressed: 120/80. I knew then that my fear of breaking down and flooding the OR will not materialize. Whew! Listening to the doctors prepping me up for the procedure finally lulled me to sleep.
When I woke up, all was groggy and hazy, voices were in the background, and there was this pounding sound, like a sculptor chiselling away at the marble. Then, my mind cleared a bit. Hmmm, the pounding seemed to be on my back. (pound, pound, pound) I think that's my bone. (pound, pound, pound) I think that's my spine. (pound, pound, pound) I think that hurts. (pound, pound, pound) I think that hurts more. (pound, pound, pound) I finally raised my hand and uttered a feeble "aray (ouch)." (pound, pound, pound) "Arayyy," louder this time around. Tita Fides, the anesthesiologist, finally heard me. "Aray daw!" and then I passed out again, but not before thinking that this is good material for a horror show.
Next time I came to, I heard the good doctors arguing whether to use micropore or tegaderm to dress the wounds. I struggled to say that I'm allergic to tegaderm, and when they finally heard me, the tegaderm was used. Oh, well. And I fell asleep again.
I tried, but before going back to sleep, I took a look-see at my surroundings; instead of falling asleep, I was jarred awake by the number of patients around me. My thought was: I have to get out of here! Pronto! Instead of falling asleep, I grew more and more awake. 20 minutes later, I was in the washroom changing into my clothes.
I was not supposed to eat until 6PM, but coming from the washroom, I felt as if I could eat not just a horse but a whole elephant! So hungry was I that I'm not sure if I was weak and groggy from hunger or from the anesthesia. I insisted upon leaving the hospital, wanting to get away as soon as I can. So, they wheeled me to the car, and off we went to eat.
I was already ordering food by 5 or 5:15. My brother made a token order, said he wasn't really hungry. When we started to eat, brother got a text from the good doctors, saying that the initial findings didn't find any tumor cells; only bone cells were seen. =) Brother suddenly got back his appetite and ordered some more food.
After eating, we dropped by the regular drinking place of the ortho people; the doctors were so happy with the news of the initial findings that they gave me a celebratory beer to drink!
We got the final news on Wednesday, December 18: No tumor found! It is just arthritis! Friends started texting me, congratulating me on my biopsy results. My oncologist/s wants me to monitor the area, meaning another MRI in 3 or 6 months, depending if the area will be hurting or not.
Whatever. It's a merry christmas indeed for all of us! So...
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!
