I'll keep this short and sweet until I have more information. The doctor called me at 8:30 last night to tell me that my PET scan showed a spot on my liver, right at the same site where the metastasized tumor once lived. It's a small spot, and he doesn't know what it is. An ultrasound is planned for early next week (not scheduled yet) to learn more definitively if it's cancer.
I asked him how worried he was and he said, "medium".
It COULD be scar tissue.
It could be a false positive, like I had on my last PET scan in August. The difference is that, last time I wasn't worried. A positive area made no sense then. I was still doing chemo, and the chemo was WORKING. Why would there have been a new growth? And as it turned out, there wasn't.
This time, however, I'm not on chemo anymore. Just Avastin.
I'm not going to lie. I've already shed a few tears about this news. I've felt every emotion imaginable, from fear to terror to dread to sorrow to anger to despair to fatigue to depression to anxiety --- to a sense of resolve that I can and will overcome this, if it's indeed bad news, and that I'll get my old game face back out of the dusty depths of my closet where I placed it a few weeks ago, back when I started to believe that this was really all over. Back when I once again started to live like a normal 36-year old, making plans with friends, planning trips, and having tons of energy to shower all over my kids. I am NOT ready to surrender my renewed energy and sense of hope.
I am PRAYING that this does not turn out to be cancer. I don't know if I can handle this rollercoaster hellride again.
But the truth is, if it turns out to be cancer, I KNOW I'll put up a crazy fight, once again, and for one simple reason:
I AM NOT READY TO DIE. I REFUSE TO GO. IT IS TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE.