Lust to Love

Recently, I had a checkup by my fantastic Oncologist who diligently keeps track of my health every six months or so. He's not very athletic, he's not outdoorsy at all, and I'm pretty sure he's jewish (not that there is anything wrong with that. I am just not jewish, meaning we don't have that in common either). He is brilliant and sweet and every time I go to see him, he gives me good news. Plus, he's the only other man in my life besides my husband that pays attention to my chest. Back in the day, I used to think a guy checking out second base was lame and sexist. Now I kinda miss it.
On my last checkup, one of my labs spiked. CA 15-3 is a lab test that is used to test for cancer recurrence in the lungs, liver, colon, ovaries and pancreas. It's not a test where elevated levels automatically indicate that cancer has returned. Given the presentation of the patient, the trend and treatment, all of these must be evaluated by the physician to determine the next course of treatment or diagnostics. 4 days before my 30th reunion, my doctor called me personally and informed me that this lab test is elevated and he'd like to order a Petscan to check for abnormal growth. First of all, I love when he calls me personally. I feel super special. He's a busy, brilliant guy so for him to take the time...well, he gets me all twitterpated. Now, if you look at the picture of him and you know me, you will agree that he is not exactly my type. Not in a million years would I ever date a doctor, which speaks to the powerful effect of transference. I am acknowledging it. I love it and it makes going to the doctor really easy. However, he nonchalantly dropped the bad news following up with the Petscan order to offset it. THEN, my insurance company denied approval for the petscan. I sent him a message via my UCSF email account which is how we communicate and he called me back! <Love him> Apparently, he tried to appeal the denial (so hot!), but the medical director of my insurance company was adamant and my doctor's hands were tied. It's ridiculous really. Without the Petscan, we have to do a CT and a bone scan. If anything comes up, we then have to do either the Petscan or the MRI to ascertain if the mass found is metabolically active, spending more healthcare dollars, not less, which is what these guys are all about. I told my doc this and he tells me, "you are preaching to the choir." We got that going for us, (which is nice!)
Okay, in all seriousness, I'm adding a little humor to a serious situation that my labs are abnormal and we are trying to get to the bottom of it. Yesterday, I had a CT scan and a bone scan. They loaded me up with radioisotopes and lit me up under the scanner. My bones appear to be fine. This is a huge relief as bone cancers tend to be ultra painful and difficult to treat. The CT shows hepatic cysts in my liver and a 2cm cyst on my left ovary, nothing of "grave concern" says my hunky jewish doc but he wants the MRI just to be sure.
Both Marek and I have been on pins and needles all weekend. In a crazy weekend in Park City, this was in the back of our minds....what if. I was scared to death driving to San Francisco. I went alone and the drive was frought with visions of returning to chemo and radiation just when I managed to get my life to a place where I feel confident and healthy. If I have it, then I will fight it. Again. Because my life is worth it, but as I do, ten more years fall off of my life and the rest of my posse changes. So many great new things in my life right now. I am loving my dormant cancer life and hoping and praying that I have a few more good years to see the progression of my renewed spirit and sense of joy. Until then, I am resolved to eat well, drink lots of fluids and engage in pursuits that keep me smiling, which includes lusting after my brilliant, jewish oncologist!