Renee Gentzel

Riding that cancer roller-coaster and today is a good day! I’m traveling high, fast and free, and the weather in my little bubble is currently clear skies and sunshine.

I was expecting a storm of thunder and lightning in my personal universe. In fact, it had started out as a dreary week, when I heard unfortunate news in the lives of some of my friends. Then, yesterday, I received a call to inform me that my CT scan had been scheduled for 7 pm today by my cancer care facility. However, as they later informed me, they are currently understaffed, which is why they missed the fact that I was also scheduled for 11:30 a.m. chemo. 3 reasons this would NOT function in the real world and should not have been missed:

1. No child care after 6 pm- Mike currently isn’t home from work until 8 pm on Thursdays.

2. I would have scheduled this CT far in advance, and radiology would have as well, but insurance took its time in approving the scan (grr) – hence last minute freaking.

3. IMAGINE THE LOOK ON THE CT TECH FACES WHEN I SHOW UP WITH A CHEMO PUMP HANGING OFF MY CHEST. They would have shut that sh*t down, pronto. (Trying to keep this blog quasi-kid friendly…just in case little ones happen to see it).

So, I spent a good hour putting that fire out. I actually told the nurse scheduler that I was facing a FUBAR situation – she (Holly) turned out to be great, taking it all in stride. We were able to fix everything. We switched the CT scan to a slot in the morning, and then moved the chemo to the afternoon. *Sigh of relief* #havingcancerisasecondjobyo #cancerlife

Today, I steeled my nerves as I went through the CT scanner. As detailed in a previous post, the 3 outcomes I thought I would face: 1. Stable, no growth, stay the course. 2. Growth, no spread, surgery. 3. Spread, change course, hope new course works. I didn’t expect to hear results until after the tumor board on Monday. Then, unexpectedly, my oncologist, Dr. [S], stops by to see me during my chemo infusion with a smile on her face.

It turns out there was a 4th outcome we hadn’t considered: N.E.D. I have N.E.D.!

What is N.E.D.? N.E.D. stands for “No Evidence of Disease”. That’s right! NO evidence of disease! It is the holy grail for cancer peeps. *Happy Dance*

So, does this mean Renee is “cured”? Eh, maybe, we don’t know. CT scans can’t detect teeny, tiny groups of tumor cells, so anything less than 1-2 mm won’t be seen. Some of the cancer creeps could still be lurking around, but they’ve been through a massacre.

Does this mean the treatment is working? YES!!!!

What are you doing now? Staying the course. 6 more rounds of FOLFOX, scan again in 3 months. Monitor blood work the whole time.

What could happen? Don’t know for sure. The cancer could grow, and the cancer could take up residence in another organ. Or the cancer went kablooey from the treatment, and we won’t see it again. I could be N.E.D. for a few months, a few years, or many decades. The cancer may mount an attack and show up on the next scans. All I know is that if I’m N.E.D. following the scan in three months, you may hear about a celebratory picnic in the works….that all will be invited to! To LIFE!