PET scan plans

Today is saturday. I woke up for first time in as long as I can remember feeling pretty well. It. Lasted until mid-morning, when it became clear I'd picked up a touch of the stomach virus going around. I felt shaky and lousy from that, yet, underneath, I can still feel my strength returning. The tide has turned. I am starting to think again about my business and the directions I want to take it in. I am pondering projects in the house and how to best tackle them. When I get up and wlk around, I am still tired, but my body no longer sends me distress "lie down, lie own" signals the entire time. Best of all, the pain in my hips, back and knees is almost gone. My feet are still numb and tingly, as are my hands. My left arm has shooting nerve pain if I stretch it. I can't do much of anything without feeling wiped out. But the healing has begun. On Tuesday, I'll have a PET scan. I'll get up at 5 to eat and drink then fast for six hours. In the early afternoon, they'll inject radioactive dye into my port and have me drink a large amount of yucky red stuff. I am good at this drinking of stuff without getting too sick. Many people find it a real trlal but it's a small way in which I'm a little tough. I'm grateful for that. After waiting an hour or so to develop a full radioactive glow, they'll put me in the scanner. I will lie perfectly still for 105 minutes while they look for cancer in every part of me. We will find out just what this chemo has done for me. Has the cancer, as it seems to have, retreated from the lymph nodes above my collarbone? Under my arm? Have the two small nodes in my breast gotten smaller? The cancer in the skin of the breast, oh most dreaded inflammatory carcinoma: Have you retreated, stayed, grown? Has cancer appeared anywhere else? If that were to happen during chemo itself, can you imagine worse news? The funny thing is, I can look at all these possibilities but I'm not really worried. All my life, I've worried about things I knew I shouldn't. Just couldn't seem to help it. Now, with all this looming, I shrug and laugh and think about other things. Because at this moment, I've got better things to do than worry. Butters is sacked out at my feet digesting half a carrot cake he ate when we weren't looking. Steve and I will go for a short walk soon. Bill and Kathy came to lunch to celebrate Stan's 77th birthday and Leanna brought fabulous Indian food. We pigged out and laughed and talked. I just finished a Sara Paretsky book. Nothing earth shattering. Just a nice, lucky day in a nice, lucky life. I am bored, which is another sign of returning health. All good. On Thursday, I'll meet the surgeon. She'll tell me what she wants to do. I am assuming mastectomy. I may have some choices regarding reconstruction. With luck, we can get a date scheduled by the end of the week for the surgery in a few more weeks. Will keep you posted. The adventure continues...