One of the things I neglected to include in the last post about my visit to the oncologist was we decided to get another bone and CAT scan in late Feb. I guess I forgot to mention it, because I didn’t want to think about it. I wasn’t very happy about he prospect. We know my PSA is up, we know I irradiated the previous spots on my spine, we know it’s very unlikely the cancer will return to the area that was irradiated, and we know that we won’t treat more bone metastases until they cause pain (and I’m not in pain). So what’s the point? I guess it’s just to confirm where it’s metastasized to. Probably good to know if it isn’t on another bone. Still there’s a huge part of me that wants to say screw it, no more scans until I’m in pain. Denial is such a sweet sounding siren.
The hospital called the next day to set up the scans, the day after I uploaded my last post. That was two days ago. After the call I had a full blown anxiety attack. I managed to get through it thanks to my wife. She suggested we set up another appointment with the oncologist (that I had just met with the day before) to go over again the need for these scans, which we did. That night I had yet another anxiety attack. A couple Xanax came to the rescue.
After thinking about it I decided I wanted to go ahead with the scans, but I wasn’t sure what state I’d be in. A major anxiety attack right before or during a scan is no good. So I got a last minute appointment with the TMS psychiatrist today.
We added a new drug to the cocktail. If I’m doing OK by Monday, I’m going to cancel the follow-up meeting with the oncologist and go for the scans.
I realized tonight that I’ve taken another step in the process. I can no longer deny this stuff is spreading and killing me. I don’t think I’m even close to fully accepting this, but I’m one step closer.