Five weeks later there are a lot of people in the consulting room again and I am pitched into the dark again as I’m told that the PET/CT shows an 8mm hotspot and they need to biopsy but everybody tries to reassure me that they have never had a failure at this stage, especially as my MRI was clear and anyway, till they got access to the Cardiff scanner MRI was all they did.
I think about refusing. I’m convinced that because my reaction to radiation was so severe and that my whole throat is glowing on the scan that I still have a reaction. I’m also convinced that the treatment has failed, that the cancer is still there. Which is it?These guys know what they are doing. I have never doubted my doctors but I have at times lost faith in my body. I should do what they say.
I cave in. I am devastated.
I have my biopsy a week later as a day patient
I don’t see my surgeon again afterwards but I do see his registrar who tells me that they couldn’t see anything and neither could another surgeon called in for a second opinion.
They took eight samples
A week after that I get the brilliantly good news that no malignancy was found.
Dr Banner Grins at me. Mr Kittur sits on the examining table like a little fat Buddha with an even bigger grin. I don’t know what to say. I am shocked. I was convinced the treatment had failed.
When we leave Stan bounces out of the waiting room and says to me, “for heaven’s sake smile.” I’m smiling.
Roller Coaster? My God that doesn’t come anywhere near describing the journey!