NO NEWS IS GOOD NEWS

Well, a lot has happened since my last entry, and I've been remiss for not providing an update. I am going to give a detailed report, so if you're pressed for time, scroll to the bottom for the, well, the bottom line.

The tumor board at the Huntsman Center was supposed to meet on Friday, April 2nd, to review my CT scan and make a recommendation concerning the small lump revealed. That was Good Friday and I was disappointed, but not surprised, to learn they did not meet. They meet once a week. I mentally prepared for another week of wonder.

The tumor board did meet on the following Friday, but I didn't get their input until Monday. The group decision was to do a biopsy......find out what is there. The decision made for a mixed emotion day......for both of us....all day. I wasn't excited about another biopsy....that's where we started nearly a year ago. It seemed like a huge step backward. Conversely, I did want to know, and sooner than later. We were out of town and the first mutually agreeable date for the procedure was the following Monday, April 19th. Another week of wonder, but this time it was wondering if this test was going to work. The biopsy last year was inconclusive and we had a large, visible lump to work with. This time the lump was small and not visible. I was concerned about not getting a sample from the right spot and getting a false negative.

We went to the University of Utah Hospital midday Monday. We were led into a high tech room, nothing like the doctor's office where a similar procedure had been done nearly a year earlier. Last year seems like a different life.....it was. That was B. C. ----before cancer.

I laid on a slightly inclined, hard table/bed. A technician used an ultra-sound to look at (in) my neck. She asked if I could feel the lump. No. "Is it small?" Yes. Then I asked my burning question. "How do you know you're getting tissue from this small lump?" She explained the ultra-sound would show the needle and they would watch the monitor to guide the needle tip into the lump. She then explained that they would take a sample, run across the hall and ask the pathologist if they had enough cells, and then do it again if necessary. I asked if that happened often. To my delight, she said it usually takes three sticks and some times as many as seven! While I pondered my plight, she explained how she was going to bring the lump up on the screen and then the doctor would come in to preform the procedure.

She couldn't find it. I said I thought it was higher on my neck. Nothing. Do I dare think it?

The doctor came in from where he'd been studying my CT scan. He looked, but couldn't find it. He went back to the CT scan to make sure he was looking in the right place. I think I held my breath. I know both Faith and I were thinking, hoping, do we dare hope, the same thing. But neither of us, alone now in the room, uttered a word.

He looked again. I must have breathed. Finally he said, "I can't stick what I can't see".



It had been three weeks since the scan. The doctor explained that lymph nodes swell up normally as our bodies first line of defense.....to a lot of bad things. It could be a dog or cat scratch, an allergy, an infection of some sort, etc. Whatever was there then, was gone now.

You don't realize how much this stuff weighs on you until it's lifted. Alone again in the room, Faith and I hugged, cried, said a prayer of thanks to the Lord, and shared our unbelieving emotions of the past fifteen minutes.

It was an incredibly short trip home to Green River. I'm sure I had a smile on my face the entire way because I know I had a heart full of joy.

It's been nine days..........and I haven't been shaken awake and told this was all just a dream. So now I'm sharing it with you. Are we done? No. We see the lead doctor on the team in three weeks and we have another scan five weeks after that. Meanwhile, life is good, life is great, and we continue to heal. I'm starting to think it's time to burn the blue bands. Do I dare think it?