Cover Me In Sunshine

Cover Me in Sunshine by Pink, Willow Sage Hart  I do not own the rights to this music.

This song is a call to action for friends, relatives, and blog readers. I am struggling to remain upbeat and positive, so critical in this battle. Please take a minute and "cover me in sunshine"! Send all the prayers and positive vibes you can spare my way. Thanks in advance!! 

Here is what rocked our world this past week:

When meeting with Rachel pre-chemo, I showed her a lump on the inside of my elbow. Full disclosure, right? Is my arm swollen? When we compared the left to the right ... yep, the left was larger. So, while I was going through chemo, Rachel ordered an ultrasound at the hospital next door. We need to make sure I don't have a blood clot (same arm that had lymphedema at the beginning of this journey ... only to find out it was a symptom of the metastases).

Chemo done, I head to the hospital. They got me in right away. Thirty minutes later I'm done and headed home. I was home 30 minutes when Rachel calls, says no blood clot, but let's monitor over the weekend and see if the swelling goes down. So Mike and I measure my left arm.. and right arm for comparison.. all weekend. I send Rachel a note early Monday AM with the results. Later that morning I get a call from Rachel. We need to order a CT and see what's causing the swelling. I head to TX Oncology for my CT Monday afternoon.  Note: Rachel doesn't play!! Can you tell?

Can I stop for a sec and let you know something I've noticed the past few weeks? I don't stress test results anymore. Those of you that have gone through any type of serious illness, waiting for test results is typically torture. I belonged to that "torture" club for a long time. But I've found I no longer check the patient portal every hour or leave messages/notes for the doctor to post results ASAP. I have finally realized that all my stressing and hand-wringing isn't going to change the results. It's liberating! Only took me 7 years to get there. 

Fast forward to Tuesday afternoon, I get another call from Rachel with CT results. As with recent scans, the results were mixed. Some stability, some progression. But this CT showed something new we haven't see before. Seriously? AGAIN?! Turns out there is a possible lesion on my right frontal lobe of my brain. We need an MRI to be sure. Once again, Rachel springs into action. I am getting an MRI at 10:30 Wednesday morning. Rachel calls Wednesday PM with results ... we don't have a brain lesion, we have TWO brain lesions: one 13mm x 8 mm in the right frontal lobe and one 3 mm in the left lower lobe. That's the gut punch, folks! Now what? For starters, Rachel prescribed steroids to prevent brain swelling. And radiation. I am scheduled with the radiation oncologist for next week ... or so I thought. 

Once again, TX Oncology is jumping through hoops. The nurse called back and moved the appointment from next week to Friday morning. This may not sound like much, but Dr. Cohen doesn't work on Fridays; she came in today specifically to see me and get the party started! Now do you know why I love this place? 

Unable to sleep Wednesday night, I started checking on treatment options for MBC brain metastases. Typically, doctors use radiation to zap the tumor, then monitor. Sometimes more lesions show up, many times they never see them again. I vote for door number two! I also checked in with Breastcancer.org and checked out the brain metastases thread. The general consensus for most ladies mirrored what the doctors and other research had told me: this is an inconvenience and something we need to deal with and monitor, but it's not an automatic death sentence. Yeah, I asked that question. Told you I was in a dark place.

I met with Dr. Cohen, the radiation oncologist this morning. The plan is to zap both lesions at the same time with targeted radiation, then we followup with MRIs every three months until ... forever. This will take about 45 minutes. Once we finish the treatment ... one and done... she will start weaning me off the steroids. Thank you, Lord! But, before we can schedule treatment, they have to make a mask to hold my head still during radiation. 

I must say, this was a trip going through this process. It didn't hurt, it isn't scary. But here I am, lying on the CT scan "bed" and I have three people putting this warm mesh thing behind my head and they are are mashing it this way and that. It felt like a neck message! Once they get that part how they like it, they bring over a large warm mesh thing to put head and face, leaving my eyes and nose exposed. Again, I've got three people mashing this way and that to get it real tight. Apparently, I am tiny ... coulda fooled me ... so they were having trouble getting it real tight. They snapped it into place. There is no way my head or neck is moving once snapped into place. Once they were done, they took it off and let me up. I got to see the mask. It's pretty cool! The best part? I get to keep it when we're done. Nice! I'm going to embellish that sucker, put a wig on it, and put her in my office. I may even give her a name. Feel free to send suggestions.

Here is what a mask looks like. Do you see where it is snapped down?

Hubby is expecting me to glow in the dark so much that we won't need a light on to read in bed. Sure would hate to disappoint 😊