On Monday, I went to the cancer center for my PET scan. When I got there, I had to go upstairs to get my port accessed, then back downstairs for the scan. The technician injected me with a radioactive substance, after which I sat in a small room alone for an hour waiting to become “radioactive.”
Every time I go for my Keytruda, they do what’s known as a BMP (basic metabolic panel). It’s a group of labs that includes (among other things) my sodium and my eGFR. I also have a BMP done once a month for my nephrologist. Anyway, every time I have one done, I call within the next few days to get the sodium and eGFR results.
On February 28, I went to see my oncologist to get an explanation as to why I wasn’t told about the liver “lesion” on my last two CT scans. Last I heard, I didn’t have any tumors. I also wanted his take on what my nephrologist had told me about the Keytruda causing my kidneys to fail and the possibility that I may need to get off it.
Last week, I went in for my quarterly CT scan of the chest and neck. I scheduled it at the hospital so I could have the IV team bring the ultrasound machine to find a vein and I wouldn’t have to be stuck repeatedly. That turned out to be a good call. The woman from the IV team got the IV in on the first try.
In the meantime, I got a letter from my insurance company saying my PET scan had been denied because that test isn’t the standard of care for monitoring my type of cancer.
I wasn’t looking forward to August 3 this year. On August 3 of 2015, I was initially diagnosed with cancer. I had no idea what was in store for me, but I was terrified. Had I known the full extent of what I’d have to go through, I’m not sure I’d have had the strength to face it. In case you’re wondering, cancer’s not as bad as you think it is.