Suspicious Bone Lesions
After having diep flap reconstruction in Feb 2019 my plastic surgeon sent me for an abdominal CT scan to check a few things out. This appointment was in August 2020. Had the scan. The report also sent to my GP (who is wonderful). The last line on the report commented on suspicious areas on my spine. He then contacted the oncology department at Monash. No one could explain. Got sent for a Bone Scan which showed nothing. This was followed by a PET scan. End result is blood tests are all fine, no lymph nodes affected, other organs fine, no breast area concerns BUT have multiple tiny lesions scattered on my bones - shoulder, spine, pelvis. After the oncologist had consultations with other colleagues I have been given no answers. I am now waiting for an appointment for a bone biopsy by the lesions are so small it will be difficult. Waiting, waiting, waiting for that appointment. Cant say I am optimistic. By the way, still have not heard from the plastic surgeon.
Liver biopsy
May 29 my oncologist told us i have a 5cm tumor in my liver and numerous small ones after a week of ultra sounds, bone scans and ct scans, should have been or i was hoping my 5 year clearance. Tomorrow i will have a liver biopsy to see if the cancer has changed in any way, must addmit i'm not looking forward to it and don't really know what to expect
Liver lesions
Hi All I am aware my questions about this need to be directed to my medical team but thought I would also throw it out here as well. I am not sure if anyone else has had the experience where during a staging CT scan they found a lesion on the liver. I was diagnosed early in March 2016 and because they found cancer in 1 lymph node was sent for full body bone scans and an CT ( chest/ abdomen/pelvis). Luckily the bone scan was fine ( except for mild arthritis which I knew about). The CT scan picked up 2 lesions in my liver 7mm and 10 mm. Anyway it caused a bit dilemma at the hospital and for a short time a liver biopsy was considered then taken off the table. The Radiographer is thinking it might be a hemangioma rather than metastases and sticking needles into a hemangioma is very risky apparently. A subsequent liver MRI was not able to confirm a definite diagnosis but they are now thinking the lesions look like atypical hemangioma which is benign. I have done some reading and it seems lots of us are walking around with all sort of lesions in our organs but we would normally never know about about them and they wouldn't cause us any problems but just because cancer patients are scanned so much occasionally something suspicious is found. I am concerned it is metastases but without a liver biopsy I won't know. I am due to have Chemo after the 2nd surgery so that might treat it anyway. Docs are also thinking of sending me to have a PET CT scan or a Red Cell nuclear scan just to be sure. Sometimes it is the unknown's that is the hardest to deal with. Narelle.
Reconstruction with secondary cancer
I am on the list for breast reconstruction and just before Christmas I was diagnosed with Liver tumours. I am booked in for core biopsy next week to see if it is still BC and oncologist has put me on zoladex and laprazole. What is wanted to know is has anyone gone ahead with the reconstruction even though breast area is cancer free? Regards Tracey
Everything and Nothing.
I last spoke about loss. Losing friends is difficult. Losing them to a disease that you have yourself is difficult in a different way - there isn't the consolation of "time healing" - instead there is ticking. The ticking is always there - some days excrutiatingly loud and thumping, others just soft enough to intrude the quiet moments but ever present - tick, tick, tick, tick... I've been reading the Tibetan book of Living and Dying - quite a read! Difficult, challenging and full of wisdom and inspiration. Awareness of my inevitable death certainly does inform my life - I rebound from bad news so much quicker, I look at conflict completely differently than I did prior to this "realisation" of my death. I am grateful for this. It means that most days I am a happy person who doesnt dwell on my impending death. Nor do a dwell on the future or the past. Oh I have my moments - I would be dishonest to say I don't sit and calculate how long do I have to live now to see my daughter finish school or my son start high school? Then I laugh at the absurdity of even imagining it could happen but then there is this louder voice that says - why the hell not? I look at my son as he loses his baby teeth and imagine his face as a man - I tear up thinking of it right now - will he still have his ginger/auburn hair, will he be tall and strapping, what will his jaw be like? It's like I see him morph in front of my eyes like a Michael Jackson video but it's all in my head. I watch my daughters blossom into young women - both facing the uncertainty of my illness head on - I feel so much sorrow at what is taken from them before I am gone. Today I did one of those Google searches you shouldn't do when you have metastatic cancer - "metastatic breast cancer healing"... Well, the first 4-5 pages highlighted the THERE IS NO CURE FOR METASTATIC BC (really? 2 years in and I think I am aware of that) Why did I do it? I've mentally been in a really good place. Was I hoping for a new miracle story? I would have to be up there with the best informed cancer patients on the planet. My Oncologist and I talk HSP90, monoclonal antibodies, tirosine kinase inhibitors, Reversing resistance, immunology. phase 1 and 2 trials like we learned about it at kindergarten. I didn't want to read about the mircale in China or Mexico - I know it has worked for some, it intuitively doesn't sit with me - perhaps I have read too much. I wanted to hear an old fashioned, the Dr said there was no hope but here I am 10 years on, no cancer. I know they happen, I've met them, I am friends with some of them but I know how different their stories are to mine. Usually they respond to treatment - really well - I haven't ever. You see, I just can't accept the "THERE IS NO CURE" line. I can't even accept the "CHRONIC DISEASE" line (I read a good article on that one stating it's not a chronic disease like diabetes, it will still take your life, most likely within 10 years, most within 5 and a hell of a lot before that). I am the champion of don't give the cancer power, don't give statistics power but there niggling in the back of my head is I am now over the median life expectancy - 2 years with mets. 2 years with this eating me away and I still feel pretty good but know all too well how it ends for 99% and how quickly that can happen. So reality - I have had in the past 2 1/2 years 7 different courses of chemotherapy. Currently, I have had a remarkably positive response to my latest combination (yippee I hear you cheer but wait...) in about 70% of the disease... I am now also "growing" a resistant strain of the disease - in my lungs and in my lymph nodes (currently neck and hilar region) - first we thought - maybe it's viral or some other condition, so we did a biopsy - nope - more of the same. What does this mean? There are now two clones of cancer growing. I've felt remarkably calm about it all. I refuse the give the cancer any intelligence here. I am intent on being well. It is great news that a large part of my diease has responded to the current therapy so we continue for now but we do have to address the disease that isn't responding. Therein lies the problem. My oncologist is thinking outside the square (we are already well outside it with drug company support) but the next step is even potentially more risky and possibly costly - what do I have to lose? everything and nothing.
Biopsy done 'n dusted!
Well I survived the biopsy on 26th October! Specimens were taken from the slightly enlarged lymph nodes inbetween my lungs and apparently the procedure went well. I am left with bruising, soreness and no doubt a scar across my neck. The nurses call it the "cut throat procedure"...nice one...thanks for that! LOL! Now I am waiting patiently, again, for the results and a treatment plan. They are due on Tuesday 1st November. I was told to stop the Tamoxifen (as it's obviously not working) and I very obligingly threw it in the bin the other day...GEEZ that felt good! So now, I am on no treatment at all...and I just sit and wait. The countdown is on until Tuesday, when my life will take another turn...hopefully there will be no more bad news (other than the expected secondary cancer diagnosis) and I can get on with whooping this cancer's arse! The worst part is the waiting......... Celeste xx
