Freedom Day — pretty(sic)

So the results are in. .. but not without the appropriate level of consequence. Because what’s the use in getting your 1 year scan results with no drama, right?

A few months ago, I scheduled the CT scan which would provide the end result of a year of thriving after hearing the words “complete pathological response.” I’d intentionally scheduled the Ct scan to occur one week before my “Freedom Day,” on Juneteenth. I’d go in for my scan on Thursday and then see Dr. Shahin on Friday for my results. All was going according to plan, until I received a call from Houston Methodist, advising that the CT scan was under repair. I’d either have to postpone my scan until after my “freedom” day or go elsewhere for my scan.

After consulting my work schedule for what seemed like an eternity, I made arrangements to get the scan at a different Houston Methodist facility on June 12, one day after the original date. One day delay seemed fine for the scan. I could handle that with ease. The test was in how long I’d need to wait to receive the results. Typically, I’m proactive in scheduling follow up results the day after a scan to avoid a scanxiety attack.. This time, I had limited options. Having the scan on that Friday would force me to wait not one, not two, not three, but four days to receive my results the following Tuesday.

I didn’t do much to prepare for the scan during the week leading up to my appointment. Being busy at work was the perfect strategy. It wasn’t until the night before the scan when scanxiety began to rear its ugly head. In what felt like an outer body reaction to going in for the scan the following day, I broke out in hives and had a slight headache the night before. But the scanxiety was no match for the sisterhood that was established months before during that fateful trip to Orlando. I reached out to a group of them for support, and was immediately comforted and covered.

The following day, I arrived at the Houston medical facility in Spring ready for action. Apparently my veins had not received the memo, as they rejected the initial attempt to insert an IV for intravenous contrast during the scan. My veins typically accept needles without a lot of fanfare, guess they weren’t having it that day! Cascading between bouts of frustration and impatience, the vein had eventually given up the fight and the IV was inserted.

Twenty minutes later, armed with an IV (both literally and figuratively), I was ushered into the scan room and was immediately reminded of the initial time I’d seen such a machine.

A Ct scan does not require one to undress before imaging. I’d worn jeans that day and was asked to pull them down to my knees before the scan to ensure that the belt and metal button closure did not compromise the scan. Before he had completed his statement, my pants were unbuttoned and making their way down my legs. In one of the most hilarious moments that morning, the technician turned in horror and exclaimed, “No. Mrs. Parker. Not yet. I will give you something to cover yourself and you can pull them down once you’re lying on the scan bed.” That’s the thing about being poked and prodded for a year. Modesty is out the window. I’d experienced something similar at another medical appointment. That time, I advised the doctor that there was no need to leave while I removed my top and bra. Who has time for that.???!

After the scan, I was plenty busy with weekend activities .. too busy to worry about the results of the scan. Besides, after what transpired on Saturday morning (see previous blog entry), I was confident that God was preparing me for greatness.

In what felt like a blink of an eye, it was time for me to get my results. Mid-day Tuesday came at me like a freight train, but not without a test of patience. For I had received the scan results two days prior by MyChart. As the email notification taunted me, I willed myself not to click the button. Waiting was one thing but trying to interpret the medical results of the scan was asking for trouble. If there was any morsel of ambiguity in the report that I could not decipher, my weekend would have been ruined. But I’d made it to Tuesday, and in a matter of moments, I’d receive results that could easily alter my near-term plans. Instead of re-entering a post pandemic summer of travel, I could be back to the hospital regularly .. if it was willed to be.

Dr. Shahin’s new office was now completely modified. I did not recognize the place at all. It had been months since I’d seen the office … or Dr. Shahin for that matter. He walked in and we traded the normal greetings before getting down to business. My lab work was perfect and had returned to pre-diagnosis levels. Well, that is, everything except cholesterol which I found very strange since I hadn’t eaten meat since. January and pretty much stayed away from saturated fats. We developed an interim plan to course correct and Dr. Shahin placed an order for more blood work in a month.

On the drive to the hospital, I’d played the results of that appointment over and over in my head and bad news was not included in that reel. And now I’d heard something slightly different than expectations. So, instead of focusing on all 99 indicators of my health being near perfect .. liver, kidneys, white blood cell count, you guessed it .. I focused on that one bad mark. How often does this happen to you? When you forget to be grateful for everything that’s going right and instead focus on the little bits that were outside of your plan. As I realized what was happening, I forced myself to snap out of it. The devil is a liar! He would not steal my joy that day!

By the time my mind wandered back to the discussion with Dr. Shahin, I heard him say that he really was not concerned about the cholesterol level due to my significant weight loss, diet and activity level. The results could be hereditary or they could be a fluke. Send determine later. His perspective put me in the right frame of mind to hear what he said next. “Your scans are completely clear and show No evidence of disease. You’ve made it one year cancer-free.” Those words were like the favorite song I could never tire of hearing. So, I asked him to repeat them once more so I could sing along.

🎶 One year cancer free. One year cancer free. One year cancer free. One year cancer free. 🎶

With the best news in hand, the conversation shifted to my surveillance plan. Dr. Shahin asked me to return in 5 months for my next follow up visit. For the first time, there was an increase in the interval between surveillance appointments. I was medically thriving.

Talk about the best day of the rest of your life!! I left the hospital and skipped to my car. There was nothing that could get me down. Not even a call from my service advisor indicating the cost of a significant auto repair. That’s the funny thing about perspective. While I don’t have a money tree in my backyard, I was grateful to be alive to pay for said repair.

As I shared the news with family and friends, they too delighted in the achievement of the awesome milestone. I declared Friday “Cancer-free Friday” at work and brought in treats to celebrate with my team.

As I prepared for my official one year anniversary thee following day on Juneteenth, I decided to kick off the day just as I’d celebrated the first milestone along my journey .. at the spa.

Within a year, I’d had the first phase of reconstruction, returned to work, and became strong enough to engage in rigorous physical activity. I’d also become more fearless, patient, present, persistent, forgiving, and more importantly grateful. Yes, truly more grateful each day for the gift of life .. for freedom from cancer.