Radioactive, Ravenous and Ridiculously Bad at Sitting Still!

Well, that's another medical adventure ticked off the list!

Today was PET scan day, the latest instalment in my ongoing relationship with follicular lymphoma.

Following my recent CT scan, which showed plenty of new lymph nodes, the haematology team decided an urgent PET scan was needed to help establish whether it's finally time to move on from watch and wait.

And apparently, this particular adventure involved becoming radioactive.

Yes. Actually radioactive.

Now, despite spending years working in healthcare, I hadn't really appreciated that having a PET scan would mean temporarily avoiding close contact with children, pregnant women and breastfeeding women afterwards.

Not quite the superpower I was hoping for.

No glowing in the dark, no ability to fly, and sadly no sudden ability to clean the entire house in ten minutes.

Just a list of people I wasn't supposed to get too close to for a while.

Honestly, the things you learn!

A little confusion to start the day

Of course, no hospital appointment would be complete without a little mix-up.

There was some confusion over appointment times, but thankfully everything got sorted and the scan went ahead.

Which was just as well, because I'd already done the preparation, and I wasn't particularly keen on repeating it!

Fine dining, hospital style

Now, let's discuss the catering arrangements.

I'd not eaten since teatime the previous day, so by the time my scan was finished, I was going to be more than ready for something to eat.

Which meant taking a packed lunch.

Yes, a packed lunch.

There I was, a grown woman, packing myself a little picnic for a hospital appointment.

Forget a leisurely lunch in a nice café. Apparently, we're doing PET scans and sandwiches now.

And when you've not eaten since the previous evening, that packed lunch suddenly becomes the highlight of your day.

Who knew medical investigations could require so much preparation for doing absolutely bugger all?

Three hours of enforced inactivity

Anyone who knows me will appreciate the irony of being told to keep still for around three hours.

I'm not particularly good at doing nothing.

Actually, that's a massive understatement.

I can be absolutely exhausted, barely able to summon the energy to make a cup of tea, and my brain will still be compiling a list of things that need doing.

The washing needs sorting. Something needs moving. There's a cupboard that could do with organising.

And don't even get me started on the furniture.

Yet here I was, being told to stay still, relax and do absolutely nothing.

Apparently, lying around doing bugger all is considerably less appealing when someone tells you that you HAVE to do it.

The irony isn't lost on me.

I've spent weeks trying to convince myself that resting is perfectly acceptable, and then somebody actually orders me to rest and suddenly I'm itching to get up.

Typical.

Living with lymphoma — the less glamorous bits

Joking aside, the reason for today's scan is obviously a little more serious.

My latest CT showed plenty of new lymph nodes, and the PET scan should help the team understand what's happening and decide whether treatment is now needed.

I've been feeling pretty rubbish lately.

The fatigue has been particularly difficult, and there are days when my body simply refuses to cooperate with whatever plans my brain has made.

It's frustrating, especially when you're used to being busy and looking after everyone else.

But I am slowly learning that sometimes the most productive thing I can do is rest.

Even if I'm still absolutely rubbish at it.

And while I'm not going to pretend that the uncertainty is wonderful, I'm trying not to spend every waking moment worrying about what might happen next.

There's very little point writing the next chapter before anyone has told me what the story is.

Life carries on, regardless

In the meantime, life continues in its usual slightly chaotic fashion.

Fin has moved into his own place, we've had a new boiler fitted, and the house has seen more furniture moving than a removals warehouse.

And somehow, we've acquired a gloriously ridiculous vintage floral chair that looks like it's escaped from 1973.

Shain calls it a piece of history.

I suspect the dogs will call it their new bed.

And I absolutely love it.

Because even when life feels uncertain, there's still plenty to laugh about.

There are animals causing chaos, dinners to cook, ridiculous things to buy and the occasional opportunity to make a complete idiot of myself.

And I wouldn't want to lose any of that.

So, what happens next?

More waiting, unfortunately.

The PET scan is done, and now it's back to waiting for the results and the next conversation with haematology.

Will treatment be needed? Will watch and wait continue? Will there be more investigations?

I don't know yet.

But at least we're another step closer to finding out.

For now, I'm going to concentrate on getting through one day at a time, doing what I can when I can, and trying not to feel guilty when I can't.

And after today's efforts, I think I've earned an evening of doing absolutely nothing.

After all, I've been scanned, starved, temporarily radioactive and forced to keep still for three hours.

Frankly, I deserve a bloody medal.

Or at the very least, another sandwich.

Until next time,

Living with lymphoma, laughing when I can and swearing when I can't.

Sara ❤️