Mets Day 1002 Another day at NIH

Mets Day 1002 Another day at NIH

Image source:

Yesterday I spent approximately 5 hours at NIH. Traffic was easy on the drive over, most in all likelihood given that school had been canceled because of the bone-numbing bloodless and -20 degree wind chill. I started with the original blood draws and urine sample, then had and EKG and met with the anesthesia team, who wanted to assure themselves that each one ought to be smartly for my surgical procedure on the twentieth.
I then had to wait for nearly two hours earlier than I was called for the CT scans of my neck, chest, pelvis, and a separate scan of my urothelium and kidneys. The tech wrapped me in a warm blanket and I virtually fell asleep as I passed back an forth through the spinning magnets. I felt the familiar warmth of the contrast as it was injected through my port, spreading though my body in approximately 5 heartbeats, and eventually settling in my neobladder. The tech reminded me to drink such a lot of fluids to flush the contrast from my system.

I didn't have a clinic appointment after the scans, so I failed to find out out the results. Hopefully, I'll be informed that my pulmonary embolisms are not any longer detectable; that I have no evidence of clotting in my main hepatic portal or each other veins; that there is no evidence the blood in my urine is due to cancer in my kidneys; that the tumors in the lymphatic nodes below my left clavicle haven't increased in size; and that my liver, lungs and bones exhibit no evidence of metastatic cancer. Realistically, I keep in mind that there is an extraordinarily high likelihood that at some portion one of these scans will detect that my cancer is spreading. But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

A few days ago, ESPN commentator Stuart Scott died at age 49 from his seven-year combat with cancer. I had read plenty of articles approximately his approach, which in some ways was the other of mine. He failed to want to know any of the details of his analysis, staging, treatment, or prognosis. I want to know all of that guidance. He failed to want to stop working, and now and again went from chemotherapy to the ESPN set. I attempted that early in my treatment, but soon realized that I spending time with circle of relatives was much extra very important than spending time at the office. Last July I watched Scott's ESPYS speech and understood his heartfelt sentiment: When you die it doesn't mean that you lose to cancer. You beat cancer by how you live, why you live, and in the demeanour in which you live.

I am forever conscious that the days of my mortality are limited. I am thankful for each day that I have. Each night, I give thanks to God that my life has been extended a additional day, and that I have had a additional day with my family. I are attempting to live each day showing my gratitude, not sweating the small stuff, and finding joy and rejoicing in my posterity.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *