Monday, November 21, 2011


Miraculously, I made it to the hospital at 9a.m. to have a shot of some type of radioactive substance necessary for a bone scan. Apparently, I've been radioactive all day, but sadly have not developed any super powers or corresponding cool costume.

2 hours running quick errands then back for the actual scan... it takes one a few hours to become appropriately radioactive. I've already learned to ask them to turn the music off. The low hum of the machines is relaxing, but the tinny, transistor radio all the technicians seems to keep droning in the corner drives me nuts. One Steely Dan song is like a month in hell, I prefer the quiet.

Before the bone scan, I had to start gulping the "Creamy Vanilla Smoothie" which is barium, necessary for the CATscan. This beverage of torture would do better without the word creamy involved... w/o a name altogether, please, let's not pretend we ordered this at the café -- it is NASTY. I tried to drink it really fast and almost choked to death in the waiting room. Halfway through the bone scan I had to drink the 2nd bottle and then off to the CATscan room.

The machines are amazing looking. Steve Jobs would approve... very space age and streamlined. Nice fluid shapes, compatible with the sounds they make, the rooms are dark and peaceful until you remember why you're there. You get an IV beforehand and a couple of times they inject dye which sends a stream of warmth through you that, when it gets to your bladder, absolutely, positively, makes you feel like you're peeing. I am SO grateful they warned me about that, but it felt so real, i still had to check when they were done.

My legs felt heavy walking home... I think it was all the chemicals. Felt woozy and exhausted and came home and fell asleep for 3 hours and felt pretty sick when I got up. And I realized that was nothing compared to how I'll feel once chemo starts.

Trying to stay calm and positive before I get the results tomorrow and I don't think having an MRI will help distract me, but at least it will keep me from staring at the phone. I feel desperately in need of these tests coming back with good results because the contrary is unthinkable... too shocking to contemplate, so i'm waiting for my good news.


  1. we're all waiting 4 ur good news! sending such heavy duty positive thoughts ur way...

  2. good thoughts and prayers Kim. This day is done, now rest for tomorrow. MRIs are a bit more noisy, you might want to take the earphones if they are offered.

  3. thanks for sharing this, kim. i'm so glad that part is finished. hoping you had some support around you today, too. xo

  4. the chemo may not effect you as badly as you think...also, do you know what kind of chemo? sometimes it is a pill, sometimes the iv stay your postive funny will really help with everything! and feel all the love and help coming your way from the all of us!

  5. thanks grace, but it's not the pill... it's the big bad chemo that makes your hair fall out right away. that's the problem with triple negative breast cancer. it doesn't have hormone receptors, so all the great new treatments like tamoxifen have no use. it's the mysterious kind... they don't know what makes it grow or how to starve it by blocking the hormones it requires to grow.

  6. I think the iPad can run on personal radiation. I'll check. At least you won't need a book light at night to read. On a related note, maybe one of these days the combination of radiation and freaky magnetic fields generated by these sexy yet high-tech machines will open a portal to a universe where there is no cancer, and you'll quietly slip through it...well, maybe not quietly.