Survey Says

February 11, 2011:  Had an MRI today - actually was called a Myeloma Bone Survey.  Took about 2 hours - all I can say is that I'm glad I'm not claustrophobic.  Listened to some great classical music, and took myself away mentally.  For some reason, whenever I have a CT Scan or MRI, I always seem to cry.  Don't know if it's fear, worry, hating the process, or I'm just praying so hard to God for good news that tears flow.  Still working on the whys of that one.  Worst part will be the waiting.  The purpose of this MRI is to determine whether or not I have any lesions on my bones.  Have bloodwork and 24 hour urine testing on February 25, and will meet with my doctor again on March 2.  Again, waiting.

February 17, 2011:  Got word from my doctor that the MRI showed NO (yeah!!!) bone lesions.  Praise the Lord - thank you, thank you.  So, like I do with every result of every blood test, I made all the phone calls to the long list of friends and family who are my support system and want to "know everything".  We are all breathing a sign of relief.  More to come on March 2.  My doctor and I did discuss briefly on January 31, a stem cell transplant - autologous (meaning my own, not someone else's) stem cells.  A lot of information for one day, so we agreed to discuss more at our March 2nd meeting - after seeing what the bloodwork looks like.

In the meantime, phone calls are being made and received by nearly all my loved ones (I say nearly - well, that's a whole different chapter).

Of course, the hardest people to tell the news to was Erik (my almost 30 year old son), and my sister, Kay.  Normally, I ask her to relay the information to her two daughters, Renee and Stephanie; but this time, I asked her not to say anything.  I'm on FaceBook, and some of my friends were sending me good thoughts and prayers - my great nieces are on FaceBook, and I didn't want Renee and Stephanie to find anything out from their kids, so I had to make the dreaded call to them.  Renee is my first-born niece and first God-daughter.  Telling her tore my heart out.  She just turned 40 last October, and I made a surprise visit to Arizona.  Shocked the hell out of her - but that was a good shock.  This one is not.  Then, there's Stephanie.  I swear to God, if I didn't know any better, she could be my daughter.  We are alike in so many ways.  I think I'd rather have 12 root canals at one setting than tell her this news.  Guess that just comes from wanting to protect your loved ones, I suppose.

Most of you all know that I have an extremely bizarre sense of humor - I mean, REALLY bizarre.  Some get it, some don't.  Right now my husband, Tuck, is not getting it.  Then again, maybe he is, as he just informed me the other day that he is in Stage I of Denial!  Laughed my ass off at that one.  But he didn't laugh when after I got the phone call to schedule the Myeloma Bone Survey, I said "survey says" - you know, like Richard Dawson on Family Feud?  Everyone else I said that to has laughed - Tuck still hasn't.  I'm working on him, though.  All in the perspective - in May of this year, he will be cancer free five years!  Yep, I was his caregiver when he went through his chemo and radiation for Stage IV base of the tongue cancer (like Michael Douglas).  He didn't have very good odds at even surviving the treatment, let alone the first year!  Interesting now how the table has turned - he will be on the "other side" of this demon now.  My counselor had mentioned once that each person - the one who has cancer, and the caregiver, goes through their own personal hell.  Guess we're about to find out what each other felt.

As of today (that is my mantra) there is no cure for MM - and I know that it has jumped to the top of the R&D list.  I have a cousin who is a nurse, and she says "they" are THIS close to finding one.  Right now, it seems as though the stem cell transplant is the procedure that can "buy time" before treatment begins.  Let's pray!