I got my PET scan results back and it wasn't good. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't good. Having metastatic breast cancer creates a lot of roller coaster-like days...weeks...months...and being that I'm already inclined to being a dramatic, emphatic person...the roller coaster is definitely the kind with more serious height restrictions.
My PET scan showed spread and growth to more bones. I have to be grateful that I've dodged involvement by my vital organs, but that is still really hard. The doctor called me the Wednesday after my scan and gave me the news and I got a full report last Friday. That little spot in my right shoulder lit up (it had lit up before), I have new spots in a thoracic vertebrae, a tailbone, my pubic bone...and huge holes in mah swag. Seriously, not feelin' myself lately.
It's a huge sense of failure, it's impossible to not wonder if there was something I did or didn't do - was there something within my control that could have prevented the progression? Logically, I know there is not. In addition to the feeling of loss I feel for everything else, there's a sense of loss as I lose this one course of treatment and an option slips through my fingers.
My treatment is changing so it's on to the next. I can't start right away, because the treatment is for post menopausal women (which I am...thanks to DRUGS), but because of my age, they are appealing to the insurance company for me. Still no chemo, so I can be grateful for that.