Seeing is Believing
Apr 4th 2009PostmasterCoping & Diagnosis
Cancer does terrible things to your body and to your mind. Sometimes, it can initially be discovered without any real visible signs and, however hard the treatment may be, you may never actually “see” the cancer. It’s kind of like having a car mechanic tell you that you need an expensive part replaced when you didn’t even know there was something wrong and you never actually see it. While I generally trust doctors more than mechanics, there is always a little voice in the back of my head that wonders if it’s all really happening. Maybe it’s all just a big mistake! That has certainly been the case for me, even though there is plenty of evidence to prove that it is really happening. Perhaps it’s just a form of denial or maybe even a form of hope.
In my case, the development of a bone metastasis was the confirmation that my cancer was back. This was extremely important for two reasons: (1) it meant my initial and secondary (upon recurrence) treatments didn’t work and that the cancer was no longer curable, and (2) it hurt like hell! While I have been able to keep it from spreading further for over eight months, it is still there and I would not be able to walk without a constant dose of morphine.
While the pain was very real, it wasn’t until I saw the bright spot on a bone scan that I had visible evidence that I could look at, relate to, and show to others to explain what was happening. I have had several treatments on this spot (radiation and experimental high-intensity-focused-ultrasound) that didn’t eliminate the pain and it has been scanned so many times, there is no doubt that it is there. But I still had that pleading little voice (smaller now) telling me it could be a mistake, so I asked one of my doctors if I could see it on the MRI scan. He showed it to me from several angles and I could see quite clearly that it was there and, while relatively small (1×2 cm), it was very near the sacroiliac joint which probably accounted for the tremendous pain it caused.
So it’s there. No doubt about it. But somehow I feel a bit better having seen it and I no longer hear that little voice. Is this a good thing? Perhaps. I think it is for me, but maybe for others, it might be better to have that little bit of uncertainty to hold on to. My advice – if you really need to know, just ask your doctors. If you’d rather not, don’t ask to see it but don’t stop treating it and hang on to that little voice and the fragile hope it offers. There’s nothing wrong with that. We all need hope. I hope for a cure which, as elusive as that may be, can happen and it’s better than hoping it’s all a mistake.
At least for me.
Posted by Doug
This is an other wonderful book that we highly recommend. Described as “A Practical Guide to Help you Through the First Few Weeks”, it is a book that should be given to everyone the day they are diagnosed. It is written in an easy-to-read, highly informative manner to help you cope with the reeling sensation that almost everybody experiences after a diagnosis of cancer.
When we are stricken with cancer, depending on which cancer, its stage, etc., we are faced with many choices. Choices of doctor, choices of treatment, choices to get second (or third or fourth) opinions. They are all terribly important choices that we have to make at a time when our lives have been turned upside down, and each of us will approach these choices in a way that is uniquely us. Many people are very analytical and will vacuum up as much information as possible in order to make the “right” choice. Others feel much more comfortable putting their faith in their doctor(s) because they don’t feel qualified to make some of these choices on their own. I think others may just get dragged along, hoping for the best.
The day, the hour, the minute you are diagnosed with cancer is the beginning of a long, arduous and often painful journey for you and those who are close to you. Regardless of the physical type of cancer you have been afflicted with, you now have to deal with an emotional disease, unlike anything you’ve had to face before. You’re body is trying to kill you! How’s that for a trip? What does that do to your sense of immortality? What’s really important now? These are all huge issues that will affect you in profound ways, but we all seem to be poorly prepared to deal with them. And not just us, but also the doctors whose job it is to diagnose us and then drop the bomb. What do we do when we are blindsided like this?
