How do you deal with waiting?
On April twentieth 2012 I had a treatment called Chemoembolization. This is a Chemo session that works like this, first you find out that the last treatment stopped working something needs to be done. My Oncologist have me instructions to see my Liver surgeon, who sent me to see in Interventional Radiologist. There was a visit to the Surgical Oncologist who treated me with Y90 microspheres, essentially the same therapy but instead of Chemo they use Radiation spheres that are so all they are called Micro, little tiny balls of Radiation. Both treatments are delivered the same way, guided directly into the Liver tumors thru tiny "tubes" that are guided by wired into the proper spots by the Interventional Radiologist. The guide wires are were placed in my Femoral artery to deliver the medicine. Chemoembolization protocols call for a maximum dosage of an amount I forgot, Dr Wiz said it was a large amount, it certainly felt like a shitload of yuck.
The goal is to shrink and or slow tumor growth, the microspheres treatment worked well, lasting around fourteen months, seeming to be my saving grace. The Dr. that did the Y90 had told me that it was a treatment that can be done over and over again, when I consulted with him about another round he looked like I pissed on his shoes. Shocking and scaring me and almost causing me to freak out right in his office.
This brings me to 4/20/2012 and the day of the Microspheres, I arrived at six am, drive myself by choice as I was staying overnight. Typically the keep you awake, I asked very nicely but forcefully to please put me out. A lesson learned from Y90, your laid on your back while it all goes down, the table has a 1# pad that offers almost no comfort causing my back to a for weeks.
Checking in to the hospital is like waiting for a table at Applebee's, you get a buzzer that lights up like a rave toy to let you know they are ready for your insurance info yet again. Then the hostess, oops nurse takes you back to the kitchen, darn it the prep area to get you in a gown and wired for the surgical team, they give you a mellow out shot that works wonderfully.
On April twentieth 2012 I had a treatment called Chemoembolization. This is a Chemo session that works like this, first you find out that the last treatment stopped working something needs to be done. My Oncologist have me instructions to see my Liver surgeon, who sent me to see in Interventional Radiologist. There was a visit to the Surgical Oncologist who treated me with Y90 microspheres, essentially the same therapy but instead of Chemo they use Radiation spheres that are so all they are called Micro, little tiny balls of Radiation. Both treatments are delivered the same way, guided directly into the Liver tumors thru tiny "tubes" that are guided by wired into the proper spots by the Interventional Radiologist. The guide wires are were placed in my Femoral artery to deliver the medicine. Chemoembolization protocols call for a maximum dosage of an amount I forgot, Dr Wiz said it was a large amount, it certainly felt like a shitload of yuck.
The goal is to shrink and or slow tumor growth, the microspheres treatment worked well, lasting around fourteen months, seeming to be my saving grace. The Dr. that did the Y90 had told me that it was a treatment that can be done over and over again, when I consulted with him about another round he looked like I pissed on his shoes. Shocking and scaring me and almost causing me to freak out right in his office.
This brings me to 4/20/2012 and the day of the Microspheres, I arrived at six am, drive myself by choice as I was staying overnight. Typically the keep you awake, I asked very nicely but forcefully to please put me out. A lesson learned from Y90, your laid on your back while it all goes down, the table has a 1# pad that offers almost no comfort causing my back to a for weeks.
Checking in to the hospital is like waiting for a table at Applebee's, you get a buzzer that lights up like a rave toy to let you know they are ready for your insurance info yet again. Then the hostess, oops nurse takes you back to the kitchen, darn it the prep area to get you in a gown and wired for the surgical team, they give you a mellow out shot that works wonderfully.
Now I am on the gurney, gown lines in for the drugs. If you have not experienced surgery this is a really complex part, Anesthesia whose purpose is to keep you out cold just long enough, breathing with all your vitals perfectly in line. The dance is now ready, since I was semi awake for the Y90 I can explain the next couple hours quickly. First they tap you artery, then they put the guide wires I'm while watching closely on special "X -Ray" type machines that make it possible to put them in the precise locations for maximum results. While they are doing this not much is going thru your mind other than when will it be over, there are flashes of how sophisticated or complex the whole procedure is. There are the feelings of vulnerability, lying there prone on your back with just the sheets covering you. You can’t see the Doctors while they work but you hear them. That was the Y90 for, this I was way asleep, unconscious or anesthetized or whatever you would like to call it.
So now comes the wait, 90 days this time until the scans and five more till the results are shown to me by Dr. Wiz my main man, love that guy. The funny thing about him is that he is so obviously brilliant that one might find him “cocky” I say dam skippy he is and let him stay that way for that is what I want in my Oncologists. Confident staid and sure his methods are the vest he can deliver.
So again I ask how you wait, would it be on your every thought, or would you think as I do. I cannot change the outcome, control the timeframe or have any choice in the matter so I wait, think positive thoughts and try to not watch the calendar. As yesterday passed so will today, they were both pretty good days tomorrow should be even better.
Scott VS Liver Cancer
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