The Cancer Spector

Inevitably, we have other health problems besides cancer that send us to the doctor. Monday was one such day for me, so there I was exactly three weeks post-op back at the scene of the crime.

I was having sharp pain on my left side that wasn't going away- it felt like ovulation but it was going on forever. I saw a physician's assistant on the fly and she sent me off for a very large battery of tests. Because my visit was not planned, she did not have my medical file. It seemed important that she knew I had just had surgery for thyroid cancer so I told her and that was when all of the lab forms came out. First, I went to the lab with a urine sample and then to give three more vials of blood. My poor, overtaxed left elbow vein let out a scream in the form of the most painful draw I have ever had. Ouch. Then I walked over to my favorite place on earth, the hospital, where I had to put on yet another hospital gown for yet another ultrasound. The pelvic ultrasound is definitely more traumatic to me than the neck ultrasound that Dr. M usually performs. The pelvic has an intra-vaginal component. UGH-o-rama. It turns out I have a 3.3 cm cyst on my left ovary. I'm supposed to come back next month for another pelvic ultrasound and to see my primary doctor. More follow up!

So those are the facts, m'am. How was I feeling? Livid. Angry. Exhausted. While I was waiting for my blood draw, Dr. M's fabulous nurse walked by and she said hello and I was a little grumpy but she is just a giant ray of sunshine. Seeing the two of them is more fun than seeing some random person, you know?

Radiology is by the cafeteria, which is by the elevators. When I had surgery, they wheeled me past there on the way to my room. I remember seeing the radiology sign and thinking, hm, of all the times I have been to radiology, it has never been on my back! But then, the cafeteria smells. Oh the smells. I was so nauseous. They warned me that we were going by the cafeteria and my response was to say, repeatedly, "I think I am going to be sick!" Once I was in the elevator I was fine.

So to be back at the scene of that crime, especially after the hard time I had had in the recovery room, freaked me out. My heart was racing when I went over there and when I went to change into my gown, I admit that I cried. I just felt sad. It was more evidence that my normal, old life was never to be again. Even though I was just there for this pain and not for cancer treatment of any kind, it was scary. I swore I wasn't going to be one of those cancer survivors that think every pain is cancer. Yet there I was with this sharp pain in my left side, thinking, "I have ovarian cancer!" I wanted to laugh at myself because it was so absurd, but yet I was only three weeks post-op. My emotions are still raw. I know what I know intellectually but my emotions are just steamrolling that with a, "So?! You have already had cancer, what's to say you don't have it again or won't have it again, or that it will come back or that you will get a different kind?!"

I was called first thing Tuesday with the results and then I was called again yesterday with more results. I almost peed myself each time that I saw the number on my cell.