Scans V
This morning Rusty drove for two hours to Georgetown for his CT scan, scheduled at 10am. It was 5am when he set out. “I didn’t want to be late,” he told me. This will be the first full body CT he has taken since December last year. In previous months, the doctors in Paris have ordered for him only chest X-rays.
The idea was to monitor the four small lesions in his right lung. As long as he reported no new symptons, there was no need for more tests. Next week, he will start a new therapy for his lung mets. Called radiofrequency ablation, the procedure will involve surgically inserting a needle into the tumor mass, whereupon it will release a high level of “radio-energy”. The tumor cooks, and is destroyed.
It all sounds very hopeful, but before we start the treatment, he must first take the scan. “We need to rule out the possibility of new tumors that may require more urgent attention,” Rusty is told.
Every scan day, we carry the same, weighty demons. We wait in fear, in hope, in humility, for that one phone call that may mark a sudden detour in our journey. It’s happened before, but it is not something you ever want to prepare for.