No one had anything nice to say about cancer at dinner:
On Tuesday I was leaving the grocery store after picking up some items for dinner with my friend Liv when my pulmonologist called. "Well Karen," he said, "I think you've hit a grand slam." I don't watch sports, I don't even know which sport a grand slam takes place in, so I had no idea whether he was going to tell me good or bad news. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he said, "but the pathology reports are telling up this isn't breast cancer. It looks like you have a carcinoid in your lung." At that moment I started getting annoyed that he was using sports metaphors to deliver shitty news. "Wait," I said, "I have lung cancer too?" And then he explained that I have a 3 cm neuroendocrine carcinoid, which is a slow growing tumor that is usually found in the gastrointestinal system of 70 year-old men at VA hospitals. "Instead of one incurable cancer, you have two curable cancers, this is great news."
According to my oncologist carcinoids are "incredibly rare," more rare with another cancer, and ever more rare in young women. My pulmonologist is confused, my surgeon is confused, my oncologist is confused. Since I have two kinds of curable cancer, we now have to refer to my diagnosis as "Karen's cancerS."
Right now we have no idea how we are going to treat my cancerS. We decided to consult with doctors at St. Vincents and OHSU, so there are a lot of ideas out there. One doctor said we should do surgery to remove the lung tumor (it's intense, "think open heart surgery" and I lose my right lung), another said I should try radiation to shrink it. One doctor wants me to have a mastectomy followed by chemo, another wants me to have chemo first, and then have breast surgery.
So now the Achesons are back to their optimistic selves, "Great news!" read the texts, emails, and Facebook posts, "Karen has lung cancer!" My brother leaned back on the couch last night and smiled, "Just think about it, in a year you'll be cancer free. Everything is going to be fine."
On Tuesday I was leaving the grocery store after picking up some items for dinner with my friend Liv when my pulmonologist called. "Well Karen," he said, "I think you've hit a grand slam." I don't watch sports, I don't even know which sport a grand slam takes place in, so I had no idea whether he was going to tell me good or bad news. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he said, "but the pathology reports are telling up this isn't breast cancer. It looks like you have a carcinoid in your lung." At that moment I started getting annoyed that he was using sports metaphors to deliver shitty news. "Wait," I said, "I have lung cancer too?" And then he explained that I have a 3 cm neuroendocrine carcinoid, which is a slow growing tumor that is usually found in the gastrointestinal system of 70 year-old men at VA hospitals. "Instead of one incurable cancer, you have two curable cancers, this is great news."
According to my oncologist carcinoids are "incredibly rare," more rare with another cancer, and ever more rare in young women. My pulmonologist is confused, my surgeon is confused, my oncologist is confused. Since I have two kinds of curable cancer, we now have to refer to my diagnosis as "Karen's cancerS."
Right now we have no idea how we are going to treat my cancerS. We decided to consult with doctors at St. Vincents and OHSU, so there are a lot of ideas out there. One doctor said we should do surgery to remove the lung tumor (it's intense, "think open heart surgery" and I lose my right lung), another said I should try radiation to shrink it. One doctor wants me to have a mastectomy followed by chemo, another wants me to have chemo first, and then have breast surgery.
So now the Achesons are back to their optimistic selves, "Great news!" read the texts, emails, and Facebook posts, "Karen has lung cancer!" My brother leaned back on the couch last night and smiled, "Just think about it, in a year you'll be cancer free. Everything is going to be fine."
No comments:
Post a Comment