THE RESULTS, NOW WHAT

May 30, 2024

Well, I got the results of the biopsy, and as I said in the title, now what? It’s definitely kidney cancer that has spread to my lungs. It’s no longer a nodule; now it’s a tumor. The largest tumor, the one from which they got the tissue for the biopsy, has already grown four more millimeters. It is now 1.6 centimeters, a little over half an inch in US measurements. There were a lot of things in the report I did not understand, lots of terminology I couldn’t find when I tried researching it. My sister thinks it’s about markers that determine the tumor is kidney cancer, not lung cancer. That’s important in regard to treatment options, but for me it means little.

I thought I was absolutely prepared for the results. I thought I expected it to be kidney cancer. Somewhere inside, however, I must have had a tiny bit of hope that I was wrong. I felt the world just drop away, like going down a super steep hill on a roller coaster. I did feel shock and terror, and I was surprised to feel those things.

My friend Doug and I spent some time on the web site of the American Cancer society, looking or treatments for kidney cancer. Chemo and radiation don’t work on kidney cancer. Due to my JRA, immunotherapy isn’t necessarily an option, as when it sends the immune system in to warp drive, it can also send the arthritis there as well. I looked at what they call targeted oral meds, and I was again shocked by the potential side effects. Everything you can imagine: nausea, diarrhea, dizziness, weakness, weight loss, changing hair color, mouth sores, hand and foot disease, high blood pressure, swelling in legs and potentially other areas of the body. Truly, I felt sick to my stomach and so scared. It might not be chemo in the technical sense, but the side effects looked exactly like what my dad went through with his lymphoma and chemo 27 years ago, right down to the hair color change and the mouth sores. I’ve always felt the chemo killed my dear father every bit as much as the cancer. I’m afraid of these meds, afraid of being alone going through this, afraid that with weakness and dizziness, I could slip on my hard wood floors, or getting in and out of my shower, or even trying to get out of bed to go throw up when necessary. I’m afraid of collapsing and not being found by anyone for a long time. I’m afraid of well, whatever comes in to my mind! I’m not generally fearful or nervous. I do stress out over money and things like that, but not really afraid. But now, I am afraid.

People have been supportive for the most part. Some people say be calm, be strong, be patient until you meet with your oncologist. Ha, laughing humorlessly. It’s so eaqsy to say that, when it’s not their cancer. If I have to go through fear and uncertainty, anxiety and stress to process this, then that’s my right and it’s okay. I’m giving myself permission to feel what I feel. I give myself permission to be true to my own self and allow myself to react, even if it’s just inside or here in this journal. Sometimes, I find I want to hold those feelings close, so as not to burden my loved ones. But damn! I have cancer, cancer that must be treated with meds with terrible side effects. It’s not going to do me any good to pretend I don’t feel anything. I’m not sleeping well or eating well. Even though today I feel calm, inside there’s this ball of terror waiting to get out!