What can I say about the next few months. They were full of trials, disappointments and deep, deep sadness. I was living a life the could best be summed up as "Murphy's Law" What could possibly go wrong, will!
A week after taking my mammogram test, I received a call from Prince County Hospital informing me that something has showed up in my left breast and I would need to be retested in a weeks' time. Dear God! this on top of the spot in my left lung that I have been waiting to have retested in April.[referring to past blog Raging Waters] Chink!
My TB test results acquired not one, not two, but three nurses, discussing the yes's, the maybe's and the no's of my test. Finally, they called it at .05 slightly positive. Well I wasn't long making an appointment with my family physician to explain all this to me. He explained that lungs as diseased as mine it is bound to show as small amount. However, on my next trip with see my Pulmonologist in Charlottetown he also tells me not to worry about it because it is such a small amount and that it has been lying dormant since I was a child...how does he know this? So ok I'll drop this worry, I have plenty of others to think about. Ha Ha no sooner said when I receive another call from Cathy (my transplant coordinator at the Toronto General) She informs me that I have to start on TB meds immediately. I'm placed on Isoniazid for the next seven months. It is a very strong medicine and has a habit of causing damage to the liver. As a result I will need to have blood tests done every month checking my liver counts. Chink! Chink! Chink!
When I went for the re-test on the mammogram. She had me in every position. (Remember those old ringer washers from the old days, well I never was stupid enough to put any of my fingers, hands or arms through it but I did stick a wooden spoon through it once just to see what would happen. There wasn't much left of the spoon.) This was how my poor boobs felt. Standing on the tips of my toes hanging precariously in every direction, tears coming down my face. Finally she sent me to the waiting room but not to change. About five minutes later she came out and sat down and talked to me. She said, " I haven't been able to find whatever was seen on your last test. Would you mind going through this again, just so there will be no doubt, we will prove it!" The next time was no less painful, but I was renewed with energy and stamina, ready to prove that there really wasn't anything there. Conclusion to the test was clear. Whoot!
Alan and I headed to Halifax for my angiogram April 4th. I had an appointment at 10:00 a.m. where they explained what they were going to do plus I had blood work done. Next day I had the angiogram. The only nice thing I can say about it was that my surgeon was very good looking and from Scotland... love that Scottish brogue. I never knew until this started that I have very tiny veins. Man oh man it hurt! Now, I'll have a bruise on the top of my leg that will never go away. Results were all good and the surgeon just pressed a button and it was sent off to Toronto General. So quick and easy. We spent another night, just to make sure there was no complications. Whoot! Whoot!
A few days after getting home from Halifax I had another cat-scan done on my lungs. Hopefully, with any luck this would show up clear same as my mammogram. Meanwhile, I was getting word from the ladies that I went through my assessment with me in Toronto. The first lady was called on the list in March. The second lady went on the list the first of May. The third lady was put on the list the middle of May. I started to get worried again, "Does this mean they found the spot on my lung had grew and I have Cancer in my lung?" The waiting was really getting to me. Finally, my patience wore out. I called Cathy my coordinator at the transplant center. I was told that they hadn't received the results of the cat-scan which I had done the first week of April. She told me to give them a call, and if the problem was that they didn't have a radiologist to read it, to send it to Toronto General and they would read it there.
The call came in on the 13th of May that my cat-scan and the spot on my lung never grew so it is probably just scarring on my lung, but they would continue to keep a watch on it up there. On the last day of May, we were Toronto bound! Whoot! Whoot! Whoot!
