At varying intervals, I receive calls from The Winship Institute at Emory University reminding me that it is time for another follow up appointment. Since surgery and treatment during that first year, I have continued to receive good reports; however, that doesn’t take away the uneasy feeling that comes with the uncertainty of each follow up report. Upon receiving the automated appointment line reminder call last week, I blocked half a day off my calendar in anticipation of the usual extensive waiting room wait times. I then followed a rabbit into wonderland… I’ll spare you the inner workings of my thought process, and enlighten you on my conclusion.

In my reflection, I came across one of my blog posts from September 3, 2014 titled “No Room for Negativity.” The waiting room of a cancer center has potential to be an unpleasant, negative and dreadful experience.  Finding joy while you wait is surely no easy feat, but I promise you, it’s possible. Although the waiting was often extensive, more often than not, there was someone or something that made the experience a little more joyful.  I am committed to being the joy for others in their time of waiting. 

In honor of everyone that made my cancer experience an uplifting one, I am launching my first Cancer Care Bag fundraiser. Each bag will be filled with items to make their visits a little less daunting and a little more joyful.  The cost is $35 for one bag, or $45 for two (plus shipping/handling).  I pray we can exceed the goal of 50 Care Bags.

It could have been a lot worse for me in so many ways and for so many people it is. Please consider joining me in the effort of Joyful Waiting. 
Sponsor your Joyful Waiting Cancer Care Bag by going to: https://www.mythirtyone.com/1771463/shop/Party/EventDetail/9705212

Thank you for your continued support.

I last wrote to you on the one year anniversary of my diagnosis and now here we are another year later. My, oh, my - what a year it has been!  I took a year off from CT scans, MRI's and cancer doctors; however, nine months of obstetrics appointments and ultrasounds, one trip to labor and delivery, and pediatric check-ups in the months following have kept me seeing doctors just as much, if not more.  I will say my appointments over the past year sung a much happier tune than those of the previous year.  
Rohan Samuel was born on September 3, 2015 @ 2:44am.  He weight 8.0lbs and was 19" long.  Now, six months old, he is 19.7 lbs and 27" of pure cuteness!  I am thrilled to report all his test results have yielded negative results.  At this point, for Rohan, there is no prescribed follow up other then SPF 1,000.  We thank God every day for our healthy happy baby boy!

As for me, I have started back up with routine check ups with my oncologist Dr. Kudchadkar at the Winship Cancer Institute.  I will visit for scans and progress checks every six months.  Additionally, I routinely see a dermatologist.  Several biopsies have been done but none have been cause for any concern.  There is no plan to undergo any further treatments at this point meaning my days on the farm are done!  As it stands today, I continue to present no evidence of disease!  

Being a mom gives rise to a new kind of strength but also weakens you to the core.  The mere thought of a relapse for me or worse, a diagnosis for Rohan has an uncanny ability to bring me to tears while simultaneously stirring up a will to fight that is no force to reckon with.  It's not until I became a mom that I quite understood the love our Heavenly Father has for us.  I know the full love I have for my child is immeasurable, and yet, how much greater is His love for us?   We will continue to be thankful for each day and each report of good health.  But, should there come a day when this evil rears its ugly head again, we will find our strength on our knees.  

Until next year....

For one reason or another each of my experiences at radiology have been distinctly different.  For starters, largely due to scheduling, none of the scans have been accomplished at the same facility leaving me to tread on uncharted territory for each appointment.  Secondly, I am only informed where and when to show up, rarely do I know what I am in for and what the procedures will entail until I arrive and receive my stack of consent forms.  You may recall, my first set of scans included a PETCT scan which made me radioactive and the MRI which about gave me PTSD.  My second set of scans prescribed a CT scan and MRI where the technician made my appointment into a photo shoot and I sipped on a lovely array of fruit juices.  All of radiology ventures up to this point have been rather pleasant and overall positive.
That norm shifted earlier this week during my visit to the radiology department at Emory.  Thinking I was there for the standard CT scan and MRI combo, I completed the stack of forms before learning that half of them were not actually necessary because I was not scheduled for an MRI, only a CT scan.  No harm no foul; no MRI was actually better news because surely that would reduce my time commitment for the day.  However, my lack of faith with the scheduling system at Emory had me fearing I would no sooner be on my way home than called back for a scheduling oversight so I called Dr. K's office to verify.  I learned  brain scans are apparently only required every other scan interval so scheduling did in fact have this one right.

Fifteen minutes after my scheduled appointment time, a technician called my name with the standard mispronunciations.  At this point, I thought, "wow we are almost running on schedule today and at this rate I should be out of here sooner than expected."  Well, I spoke to soon.  My name was called simply serve me the 1500 ml of "Berry-ish Smoothie" flavored Barium Sulfate Suspension required to create contrast imaging.  I knew instantly this would be far less enjoyable than my previous dose of fruit juices.  Catching my repulsed look, the tech tried to reassure me and proudly boasted, "but it's berry flavored."  I was not convinced the artificial berry flavor would make any of this 1500 ml chug-a-lug event even slightly enjoyable.  In his effort to help me get started, the tech opened the first full container and managed to drip the white thick milky solution all over my black pants and feet.  Accidents happen, I get it, I'll get over it.  After an attempt to mop up the mess, I was left with the challenge of consuming all 1500 ml over the course of the next HOUR!

With the first hesitant sip, I looked around to locate the nearest trash can and bathroom, I was certain this wasn't going down without coming up.  I likely resembled the six year old child standing in front of the spoonful of Nyquil or dymatapp.  I will undoubtedly reference this point when forcing Nyquill down my children's throat, coaxing, "could be worse, it's not like you're drinking Berry-ish Smoothie Barium Sulfate Suspension."   You see my proposed mature approach to parenting.  I digress.... My point is, Berry-ish Smoothie Barium Sulfate Suspension is disgusting. 

Well HGTV "Love It or List It" helped pass the hour, but did nothing for my gag reflex with each passing sip.  At the conclusion of the hour, through controlled breathing, oversized gulps (not sure this approach helped), sips through a straw, and the sheer grace of God, I managed to consume, and hold down, all 1500 ml.  And, if your wondering, the family decided to "LOVE IT" (wouldn't have been my choice but they seem happy).  As my once again mispronounced name was called out again, I proudly presented my empty beverage canisters to my returning technician who responded with a surprised tone, "wow, you finished both" as if to say, it wasn't really necessary for you to drink ALL of it and no one else actually does what I say.  I fake smiled at his comment.

I was guided to the lab for the installation of my IV.  While tying me up with rubber bands, sticking me with needles, and covering my arm in ultra-sticky adhesive to hold everything in place, I learned through small talk with technician #2 that I had flavor options for my Barium Sulfate Suspension!!    Lesson learned, should I find myself being forced to consume Barium Sulfate ever again, Avoid Berry, stay skeptical of banana and request the mocha-chino flavor! 

Three hours after this adventure began, I changed into scrubs and started the scanning process.  Halfway through I was injected with a different contrast solution, this one I was familiar with, in fact I remember it well.  Administered intravenously, a warm sensation travels from the injection point on my arm and consumes my entire body; head to toe, warm and tingly inside and out.  Should you ever find yourself in this situation, just know, despite what your mind is telling you, don't worry, you are not peeing your pants.  Fifteen minutes later, I was released from the radiology lab into the 4:00 rush hour traffic of Atlanta.

Now, three days later, I have good news and bad news.  The bad news is, my stomach has still not digested or recovered from drinking the Berry-ish Smoothie Barium Sulfate Suspension.   The good news, Dr. K called today and reported my scans are still ALL CLEAR!

Nurse Lesia came thirsty for my blood today!  In addition to my standard 6-8 vials the sweet lady vampire nurse filled an additional 14 vials today.   All in the name of research! 

Today is the final treatment session of the Induction Phase!  The only notable difference this makes is my appointments will now be less frequent.  Thus far I have had an infusion every three weeks; after today I get a 12 week break from the infusion farm.  During the next 12 weeks, I will visit Dr. Kudchadkar at Emory three separate times.  These visits will consist of check ups, labs, and scans but will not sentence me to hours of infusion down on the farm.  I will not revisit G Barn, stall 1-8 until the second week of December.  

Here are all my upcoming dates:

Sept 15 - CT and MRI Scans
October 29 - Dr. K visit and labs
December 8 - CT and MRI Scans
December 10 - Dr. K visit, labs and Round 1 of Phase 2 Infusion.

I am not scheduled for anything beyond December 10th at this point; however, I can anticipate a check up and labs every six and infusion treatments every 12 weeks.

So you are wondering when this will be all done??  Me too.  And since I have several hours of time to kill, I've done some counting.  I am currently in week 10 of the 60 week protocol.   December 10th will be week 24.  Keep counting from there and if my calculations are correct I will have my last treatment on or about Aug 19, 2015.