I had my post-op with the surgeon on Tuesday. After waiting over an hour for the appointment (it’s almost criminal, seriously, wth?), he came in with a big ole smile.
Everything was clear, “negative” pathology, and we’re good to go. He talked a little bit about the cancer again, then asked if we had questions. I asked what the final stage was, and he said 1A, which is the lowest stage with a cancer finding in the uterus. So then I said, “Um, okay. What do I do now?”
Nothing. “NFT” — no further treatment. Every six months I go in for exam and pap (to check for cells on the vaginal cuff, which he said is where recurrence is most likely to happen), every year I get a follow-up CT…for five years. I try to pay attention to any new symptoms (pelvic pain and/or bleeding), and I go on with my world. Make sure to get my mammograms (these estrogen based cancers “travel in packs” he said, so breast and colon cancer are issues…). Good news, I get to do mammograms and 6 month exams during my birthday month. Happy birthday to me.
On his way out of the room, the surgeon asked if I was having any hot flashes or other surgical menopause symptoms. I said I didn’t think too much was happening yet, that most of my hot nights were probably from the fever from the infection. He nodded, said he’d see me in six months, and left the room. I’m still cold a lot and then get overheated when I try to stay warm, but I’m handling that. But again, I think because of my weight, the SM symptoms might be delayed for me. We’ll have to see.
I’m a little numb. It’s good news, I know it is, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel. I worry about missing recurrence symptoms. I worry about cancer popping up somewhere else. End result, I don’t really feel like my worry is gone, just pushed off and moderated a bit. Ugh. I wanted to feel elated. I wanted to feel relief. Instead, my brain just found something else to worry about.
On top of ALL that, my mom was checking on our dogs while we were at the follow-up appointment. She let them out around lunchtime and Butthead flew off our deck (not unusual) to chase a rabbit (not unusual) and came up lame on her back leg. She’s been having some mild limping after laying down, but upon movement, she seemed to be fine. We’d been monitoring her, but it seemed to be getting better. Mom told us Butthead laid in the yard for a bit, then when Mom called her back, she tri-podded it back to the house. Not good.
When we got home, she was still pretty bad. Within an hour of being home, I was on the phone to the vet, because this looked BAD. Our regular vet (my uncle) is out of the country, so we saw one of the other vets in his practice. She was barely finished with a physical exam when she gave us a grim look. It was as we anticipated…she tore her cruciate ligament in that back leg. And that means surgery. Which we would ONLY allow my uncle to do…and he’s not home for another two weeks. And Butthead is an active, restless, young dog. So we have to keep her quiet for these two weeks, then 4-8 weeks AFTER surgery. It’s so horrible to watch her limping around. It just breaks my heart.
And on Wednesday I go to get my baby toof removed. Which I’m freaked out about. On Monday we go to get the results from my mom’s follow-up PET scan after her radiation treatments.
So my brain has plenty to worry on. Woo.