Cancer Possibly Has Returned

Well, shit. Apparently, the cancer might have returned. I can’t say it was a shocker, though. The recurrence rate for pancreatic cancer is high at around 80%. That sucks.

***Edit: There is still a chance it is nothing. Regardless, this is damn stressful and scary AF.***

But even with this news, we—my husband and I—have found some silver linings and rays of hope. Here’s how the past couple of weeks have played out.

Routine scans

As usual, scanxiety was through the roof going into my six-month scans two weeks ago. I kept having dreams about having to go to the hospital for various and usually unknown reasons. In hindsight, maybe my mind knew something was up with my body.

After the scan was done, the tech asked me if I had an electronic chart. I said yes, and he reminded me to ask my doctor instead of Googling, in case I had any questions about the results, which no one has ever said to me before after a scan. Ding ding ding. Should have been a clue they saw something. I said I would probably still Google my questions, then ask my doctor.

The results came back unusually fast. Nothing showed up in my pelvis or abdomen. Hooray! However, several new nodules showed up in my lungs that were “concerning for metastatic disease.”

Yikes!

Let the Googling begin

We held onto hope found in our searches that said most lung nodules are benign and likely from a cold or flu or something like that. I had a nasty cold over Christmas, so we hoped that was the cause.

My appointment to go over results with the surgeon was the following week, but no one from the office was calling saying to come in sooner. In fact, when the office called, it was to reschedule because the surgeon was unavailable that day. They asked if I wanted to meet with the PA or push back the appointment to meet with the surgeon, which we took as a good sign.

Not a good sign

At the appointment with the surgeon’s office last week, we knew something was up when my nurse navigator came in with the PA. My nurse navigator—who we affectionately refer to as Captain Nat—hasn’t been actively part of my care team since I wrapped up chemo back in 2021. Her being there meant something was up.

And it was. We were told the nodules looked like cancer and that was how we should proceed until proven otherwise. Thankfully, we hit the ground running with blood work and scheduling a PET scan and a biopsy.

Scanxiety plus

For the second week in a row, I was headed in for a scan and this time the scanxiety was not only through the roof, it was reaching the clouds. My biggest fear was that the PET scan would show cancer that was too small to catch in the CT scan was actually in multiple parts of my body.

But I was also holding onto hope that it would come back as nothing. My emotions were all over the place, like I was on the Scrambler while riding a roller coaster mounted on a free-fall tower. Apologies to anyone who had to deal with my bursting into tears over anything and everything during that week.

I got to ride an elevator on the side of a truck!

That Friday, I went to the hospital for the PET scan. When they called me back, they took me to the restroom so I could pee because apparently an empty bladder helps prevent it from collecting the radioactive tracer and jack up the scan. Then they took me outside, and I was wondering where in the hell we were going.

We walked up to this huge semi truck trailer with a little platform elevator on the side. And I got to ride it up the few feet to get into the truck! Inside was a little control room area, a couple of vinyl, supposedly-reclining chairs, and the big ol’ scanning machine.

I sat in a vinyl chair and they injected the radioactive tracer into my arm. Let me tell you, it’s freaky watching someone carefully remove a thick metal cylinder from a bin with all sorts of warning labels on it, then just pop that stuff into your bloodstream.

Then I sat for about 45 minutes waiting for the tracer to make its way through my system. Once the time was up, I went and did the scan (which was like my normal CT scans without the injection of contrast that warms my abdomen and makes me feel like I might be peeing).

I’m waiting!

Most search results stated PET scan results should be available in about 24 hours. Mine were not.

More than 48 hours later, the results were in. The bad news was the lung nodules showed up and were “worrisome for metastatic disease.” The good news was it didn’t appear to be anywhere else (two other places showed up, but don’t seem to be concerning).

Next will be the biopsy, which means more waiting. But now we feel like we know it’s cancer and we can move forward with dealing with it. The biopsy will just triple confirm it and let the medical team know what to plan for.

Silver linings

Yes, there are silver linings in this shitty situation. They are:

• Of all the bad news we could have received about the scans, we got the best of the bad news. Apparently, when pancreatic cancer metastasizes to the lungs first, there is a higher chance of survival than when it goes to other places first, like the liver.
• I am in much better health going into treatment this time compared to three years ago.
• We have some idea of what we are in for, based on the last round. I know every treatment is different, but we feel a bit more prepared this time.
• We’ve made the most of the past three years and I have enjoyed and cherished every minute. I plan to have many more years, but it is important for me to have zero regrets.
• We are already reminded of the wonderful support system we have in our family and friends.
• I have an amazing husband who through all of this has stood by my side, held my hair when I puked, hugged me when I cried, reminded me to eat when I didn’t want to, and pulled me together when I fell apart. And he’s here ready to do it all again.

Keeping our focus on the silver linings helps us stay positive. This, plus our faith and the prayers and love from everyone, helps us get through this situation.

Next steps

We’ll meet with the surgeon in a couple of days, then get the biopsy next week. Once results are back, we’ll meet with the oncologist and go from there.

In the meantime, I plan to keep living my life while making sure I’m prepared for whatever life wants to throw at me next (not that I’m taunting you, life).