scrambling

Christmas came early for me vis-à-vis a bumped up appointment at Memorial Sloan Kettering… I was absolutely thrilled (crazy as it is). Although I’ve been working with my doctors in Albany, I needed to go to MSK for their insight.

Without looking at my schedule or my husband’s, I quickly accepted the appointment. My only problem was that the night before, I had sent all my inner workups (my PET/CT scan on a disc and I-131 scans) via pony express NOT fedex, because I thought I had over a month to get it all down there, so why would I waste all that money??? I always use Fedex—but we’re in a recession, we’re supposed to be cutting back… right?

I found out at 5pm on Friday that my appointment would be in NYC that Monday. Due to the mail mix up, I quickly called the radiology techs from two different offices to locate all the “pictures.” Well, the techs call them “pictures” which to me is reminiscent of a first grade picture day. I supposed “pictures” don’t sound as scary as "scan."

I pleaded with each office twice and then apologized profusely for calling so late on a Friday afternoon. For a second time, I needed the disc burned and images printed out first thing Monday. By the grace of God, it seemed like it was all going to be possible. I knew that my appointment at MSK would be worthless without the images.

So Monday morning I went to fetch the pieces of me—little images and splices of tissues and cells in my body—most behaving, and some not.

Whether you can let yourself go there or not—seeing the inside of the human body is fascinating—the organs and bones working to carry out life and a silhouette that really looks as if it belongs to you.

So, everything was ready and packed up in our car to head to New York City. The basis of my condition comes down to: images, blood work and a few reports.

While away, Owen was cared for my father (who's just back from Texas—what timing) and my in-laws. Before I let him go—we had some “deferred maintenance” that needed to be attended to—trimming Owen’s nails, thoroughly brushing his teeth, filling out tardy paperwork for daycare and some generalized obsessive organizing…

Just need to be sure my nest is in order.

And then life seems ok.

Onward!

I’ve know cancer for almost a year and half now, and it was harboring itself in my body years before that. I was diagnosed one month after my wedding, so I don’t know much about being a wife without cancer. My husband, Jeff and I were together for years before we were married, so I do know Jeff before cancer. Our son, Owen, was 10 months old when I was diagnosed, so I now know less of half of his life without cancer. That number will continue to shrink, the older he gets. And my wedding anniversary will always be very close to a remission anniversary.

I started thinking about this when I went to my doctor this week and had to scramble to find childcare for Owen. Jeff suggested that we just take him to the appointment. Owen has been on the sidelines while I recover from surgery, ingest radiation or just breakdown and cry—and for the latter he always comforts. I didn’t want to bring him to the front lines. I would be harder for me than for a 2-year-old who just wants to play on the scale at a doctor’s office.

It would be hard to see my 35 inch toe head bounding around during the appointment.

I am grateful for a friend who had Owen over for a play date with his best 2-year-old gal pal—doing things that 2-year-olds should do. Not accompanying his mother and father to talk about cancer. Childhood should to be protected if and when it can. Not sheltered completely, but protected.

Precautions…

Since I received a small tracer dose of I-131 right after my PET scan, along with no kissing, and there are various saliva precautions, etc. I told my husband that he would be the primary caregiver for Owen, and he woke up this morning saying:

“Here’s your primary caregiver.”

Owen is at the age where he really wants his mom, and I love that. Last night he wanted mom to read books—but it’s not a good idea since I’d be holding him, nuked up. Big things to remember when you’re emitting radiation is less time and distance (especially with kids).

This morning Owen wanted mom to change him, and it broke my heart...
...he loves his dad so much, but he’s puzzled as to why I’m not as close as I usually am.

Since I only received a tracer dose of I-131, I don’t need to be going crazy with these precautions. I’m probably being a little over cautious but I’d rather be that way.

Jeff had Owen for the afternoon and when they returned at 5pm and I stayed inside to make Owen’s dinner (with gloves on just to be really careful). Then we let him eat outside on his picnic table and I was able to sit on the porch, but wasn’t on top of him.

My other idea to have family time, but be able to keep distance from Owen was to go on a walk. This worked out well as I walked a few yards in front of or behind my boys. We walked to an open field where we could all run around—still having fun while keeping some distance.

Then it was bath time for Owen, stories and a “nice tuck,” sans kiss from me.

Rest of the night was processing time for me and a lovely feast of low iodine food. After my crazy day that involved a PET scan and the two diets at once (I really missed the carbs and for a PET scan there are no carbs in addition to the LID diet), I made fresh bread for myself and these delicious LID chocolate brownies (from the thyca website)—they were so rich you would never think they are low iodine!