A PET scan when living life with cancer is not like a normal scan. I don't expect to get a call from my doctor saying "we are all clear". In fact the best I am hoping for as I wait for this scan is that when the Dr calls he will be able to tell me "you still only have seven spots and they haven't grown". That's right. Even when I get good news, I still have cancer.
I'm not in treatment to get rid of my cancer. I'm in treatment to keep it from spreading or growing. I'm in treatment to maintain my quality of life. I'm in treatment to live; living my life just includes having cancer.
When I hear from friends things like I hope this scan is clear or everything is going to be fine with this scan, I feel like I'm going to let them down. I know my scan won't be clear. I know I will still have cancer when I get the results call next week. I don't want to let people down, but I am realistic.
The best I can hope for is a call next week to hear that my cancer is stable and I can continue Avastin for another three months and do another scan in June. The worst I could hear is bad, I don't even want to think about the worst I could hear. As I lay here in a dark room with the radioactive dye running through my body I can't help but picture it slowly pooling around the areas I know I have cancer in, I just hope that it isn't going to light up any new areas.
When you think PET scan, you might think it's a scan to see if my cancer is gone; when I think PET scan I think of a scan to help map out the next three months of my life. The next three months of trying to contain cancer. Three more months of beating the odds. The next three months of living my life!