More tests and trials

So last week I went to see the cardio-oncologist to get the results of my various heart tests. I was scheduled to have an echo test in the morning and then see the cardio-oncologist in the afternoon. I received a call from a research nurse asking me if I'd be interested in participating in a trial, to which I agreed (I'm always keen to contribute to medical science, as I am benefiting from it so much right now!). They were conducting a trial to see what type of heart test is the best type to use with cancer patients, so they wanted me to undergo a different type of test immediately before my echo test, and then they would compare the results. The trial test was an MRI heart test, where I had to lie in an MRI machine and hold my breath several times while the machine did its thing. Then I had my echo as expected, and then saw the cardio-oncologist. All the tests so far (including the heart monitor) show nothing out of the ordinary, so they are puzzled about my symptoms. They are going to investigate further, fitting me with a heart monitor for a whole week once I've had my next chemo, and they want me to come back and ride an exercise bike while hooked up to a heart monitor. Once again, I love the NHS for being so thorough, and it's good to hear that it doesn't seem to be cause for alarm.

Then today I had my pre-surgery tests: a mammogram, an ultrasound and an MRI. I'll discuss the results with my surgeon on 22 September when we'll plan my surgery. I've described these tests before so won't go into too much detail, except to remark on something. For the MRI I had to have a cannula inserted into the inside of my elbow so that they could inject the contrast dye during the testing, and they always flush a cannula with saline once it's in, just to test it. And the weird thing is, as soon as they inject the saline into my vein, I can taste it in my mouth! Isn't that strange? Fun fact.

So although I won't get the results from these tests for a while, the doctor who did my ultrasound told me the dimensions of my remaining cancerous lump, and it's 15% of its original size! And I still have one final chemo to go. So while the main purpose of chemo is to catch any stray cancer cells that have spread to other parts of the body, it's also shrunk my tumour to the point where surgery will be much less invasive than it would have been back in February.

Tanai drew the tumour sizes from my three ultrasounds, the original one, the half-way one and today's:

So tiny, I can no longer feel it. Here's to getting rid of it completely.

Testing, testing...

This afternoon I went back to St Bart's for an MRI scan. This is a very interesting scan where you are placed in a kind of huge tube and they take detailed images of the inside of your body using strong magnetic fields and radio waves. It's all very sci-fi.

First I had to take all my clothes off and get gowned up. You have to take anything metal off, as it could react badly with the strong magnetic fields, but I could keep in my titanium belly button ring because titanium is not magnetic. It's so ridiculous, I got my belly button pierced at a music festival when I was about 16, and I've never taken it out since then! And it's not as though I go around wearing crop-tops and hip-height jeans any more. But I have just never bothered to take it out. Oh well, it can stay in for at least a while longer, an ode to Teenage Indie-kid Carmel.

A very friendly nurse put in a cannula, which I was not expecting, as they planned to feed some dye into my veins so that certain tissues and blood vessels show up more clearly. Apparently, because I am young, my breast tissue is quite dense, so MRIs show things more clearly than ultrasounds. I was pretty rubbish when the cannula went in. I mean, I'm pretty rubbish in general, I'm so squeamish! I can't even watch medical dramas on TV, they make me feel nauseous, and I'm terrible at visiting people in hospitals. I almost fainted today when the nurse put a vial of saline through the cannula to test it. He had to fan me with his clipboard! Ha ha. What will I be like if I have to have months of full-on treatment? Rubbish, that's what I will be like. Anyway, one step at a time.

So then I went to the MRI room. I had to lie on my front and put my boobs through two holes in the bed so they hung down. If you haven't had an MRI they are kind of weird. They don't hurt, and if you're not claustrophobic (which I'm not) they are totally fine, but they are incredibly loud, and make hard, repetitive noises kind of like really shit house music. So you have to lie there, in an enclosed space, enduring these weird loud noises, and after each cycle the nurses call over the tannoy (they are in the next room, operating the machine (and even the dye in my veins!) remotely. They were so lovely, checking in with me to see if I was okay, and telling me when we only had one round to go. I just closed my eyes, tried to breathe without moving too much, and attempted to make songs from the beats I was hearing.

So only two more sleeps and then we find out what the hell this is and what the plan is to beat it. I'm feeling resigned, calm and prepared. Whatever it is, bring it on, and I'll fight this thing!