Sounds Good To Me

Well, I am certainly no expert in reading CT scans (although I've spent more time than I want to admit staring desperately at the images on the CD from the lab willing myself to understand what all of those shadowy regions and white spots mean). The woman working at the lab actually told me that I needed to deliver the results to my doctor's office in the sealed envelope she gave me. I smiled politely, thanked her, and then waited until the elevator doors closed in front of us to rip open the report. Hey -- it's my body! After reading, I have to say that the latest results seem like good news to me.

Here's an excerpt from the report: "There is no abnormality identified within the visualized portions of bowel. There is no apparent abnormality of the liver, spleen, pancreas, or aorta. There are multiple nodules within the kidneys and gallbladder, consistent with metastatic disease, not significantly changed since the previous exam. There are extensive metastases in the neck, chest, abdomen, and pelvis as described above. Overall, there is little, if any, change since the previous exam, though there are a couple of masses, which appear to be minimally increased in size."

So -- remember that the goal with Yondelis (and many chemos for leiomyosarcoma) is STABILITY rather than shrinkage. I guess the $20,000 question is whether the slight growth of a couple of tumors will be viewed as a contraindication to continuing the Yondelis. I really don't see how we could have asked for or expected a better report than this. Of course, I won't know for sure until I hear the doctor's view of the CT scan results.

Don and I will be traveling again on Sunday. At least we certainly hope that we will be flying that day. Our first flight (through Houston) was cancelled because of Hurricane Ike, so they booked us on a later flight -- BUT it's still through Houston! Hopefully the storm will pass quickly (and without the predicted ferocity and devastation), and everyone will be safe in Texas and the Gulf areas. I should probably be packing, but instead I am working on the lap quilt I am making for Ariel. It's a "practice" quilt for the full-sized ones I want to make. I am machine-quilting it to become better acquainted with my new machine. All I lack is the binding, and I have started it twice only to remove the stitching because the needle moves so much on the decorative stitches, so the needle moves a lot and it's hard to keep the trim taut and feed it through perfectly straight. I'm SO tempted to hand-stitch with a neat little backstitch, but that would defeat the purpose of learning to quilt by machine.

I've been noticing lately that the signs of autumn are in the air. The first few leaves are falling off of the sugar maples down the street, the pool is drained and closed for the season, and the dry, stale air seems somehow less inviting than the warm green of spring or the humid heat of summer. There is a vague longing rooted deep in the fall of the year that always makes me sorrow for another time and place -- not a specific time and place, just one that is far away and gone forever. I've always been a deep thinker, somewhat of a worrier, and a hopelessly sensitive soul, so I guess it is only natural that I have always identified with changeable autumn more than any other season. Still, I am starting to understand why older people are often so averse to change. After a while, it's just tiresome, and I find myself wishing that things could just stay the same for once. (I know, I know: that's called a "comfort zone", which is really just a euphemism for A RUT.)

And no, I don't want to live only in my comfort zone, because that isn't really LIVING at all. I still want to be able to learn new things, and see new places, and blaze new trails in the thick wilderness of my life. Hopefully, the Yondelis will give me that stability -- and the precious time -- I need to do just that.

:-) Sharon