Normally I like a lot of information about things so that I can make
informed choices.  However on being diagnosed with papillary thyroid cancer
at the end of May 06 I took the ostrich approach - I put my head in the
sand.  After my doctor told me that this was one of the most easily cured
cancers I didn't want any more info.  My husband spent hours searching for
info on the internet and read out the positive stuff but I just wasn't
interested as I was in shock.  I found it hard to think beyond cancer=death.

Rather than getting a lot of info and planning each stage with military
precision, I only checked out each stage as I was going through it.  I
totally trusted my surgeon (also my endo) and got most of my info from me -
I think I was happy with what he was telling me because it was along the
lines of what I was hearing and reading.

I remember a parent of a child who goes to school with my daughter was
shocked that I knew hardly anything about what I was going through - this
surprised me as she is a breast cancer specialist and I would have expected
her to realise that people react to being diagnosed in different ways.

Another big surprise for me was to find that cancer is still a great taboo
in society.  People don't want to talk about it and don't know what to say.
That's why newsgroups like this are such a wonderful source of support.

I guess that the circumstances surrounding my diagnosis are similar to many.
I went into the hospital with acute nephritis on a Saturday afternoon.  At
the time, my bladder was blocked, and after hours of pain, they inserted a
cathetor.  Then they wheeled me to CAT for a picture of the kidney.
Afterward I was told that I had a cyst which needed more attention.  On
Monday, they did an ultra-sound, and I guess that the results were
inconclusive.  (oh yes, my urologist told me that I had passed 3 liters of
fluid when they did the catherization.)  On Tuesday, after running into a
buzz saw with a porcupine, I was wheeled back to CAT Scan for a more precise
test of my kidney.  Things were beginning to settle down, but the cyst
needed looking at.  On Thursday my doctor came in and sat down.  As he
talked, he told me that the results were in, and that I had a malignant
cancer on my kidney.  (to me it was a death sentence, due to many members of
my family dying to cancer)  I remember sitting, and staring at the doctor.
After he told me all of the facts and options, I kind of went blank, but I
do remember looking at him and finally telling him, that I really couldn't
fight this thing with my head stuck in the ground.  He then went on to
describe the cancer, and what it appeared like to him.  Then he arranged an
appointment with the chief of urology at the Cleveland Clinic.  After many
tests, I was given the green light to have the kidney removed, since the
cancer had not penetrated or spread.  At this time, due to some
circumstances, I believe that I was more frustrated than scared, and finally
after the operation, I finally felt a little more secure.  Six months down
the road, I went to an oncologist at the hospital where I live, and after
some tests, they discovered 3 nodules on my lung.  I am afraid that I went
into a depression, since, if anyone with my history was eligible, it
certainly was me.  The Doctor ordered a PET scan and I still remember the
look on his face when he gave me a copy of the results.  All three nodules
were granulomas, and I had nothing to worry about.  That night I went to
Church, to thank God in Person.  Subsequent visits produced no further signs
of cancer.  I am still hanging in there, and as I read some of the stories
here about others, I reach out and pray for them.  I am afraid that a little
of me dies when they die.  I still can feel it.

I entered th Er at 4:30a.m. with chest pains, via ambulance. I was awakened
by them and contemplated the logic and reasons for them for a bit. They were
low in the stenum below the CPR placement of the hand. So I had a puff and
called 911.

Medics met us enroute, hooked me to a monitor and agreed with me and on we
wnt tot he hosp.

The ER staff was fast and very good. They ran all the usual tests, asked the
usual questions and sent me off for x-rays and mri's. They gave me some
drugs to settle my stomach and scheduled me for a scoping of my esophagus in
the ayem.

After the scoping they decided to drug me more with stuff to settle my
stomach and re-read the results of the mri and x- rays.

My pulmonary Doc came by nearly in tears and explained that there were
tumors or nodes showing that were not there last year. Right upper lung and
the outside back of my esophagus.

Next morning we had a port-a-cath inserted. And off the the races we went.
I spent 5 days in the hosp and then they released me.

My Onc Doc asked if I had a Living Will and was I glad my friend Janet had
come to help me with this one.

She explained what she had planned and asked if this was agreeable to me?
Chemo first and 36 straight days of radiation. Let's go! Let the games
begin!

In between chemo I managed to get my 71 yr. old ailing (COPD) husband to the
bank to make sure his name was on all our accts. He never had time to do
this before.
I got him a debit card and taught him to use it. I got all the info in case
I should lose this war, in a folder and everyone knows where it is.

Son visiting from DC had his name added to my bank accts, for good measure.
Will add the other son in Oct when I go to FL.

Have discussed all the funeral junk with all my family and now I am ready.

I have a Per/Ct scan this afternoon and will see if any of the new dots are
dangerous for me.

Will be so glad when I can just go clamming or crabbing with out worrying
about another scan or Onc visit.

Hope this helps.

betsy

In my case, diagnoses came over a long period of time so it was a gradual
thing. After a bought with pneumonia, a CT scan was done, which looked like
cancer. A meeting with the surgeon who was doing the biopsy was arranged and
again we were told it looked like cancer from the x-ray. At that time, he
felt NSCLC. After the biopsy results came back, I received a phone call from
the surgeon; Confirmed SCLC. Not what we expected and my first reaction was,
okay, guess this is it. No sense in fighting this one as it is virtually
unstoppable. That is what we though at the time and were probably correct
except that it was worth fighting for the extra time.

I spent the next few weeks making arrangements for everything! Everything in
a binder that would be needed once I passed away. My will, credit
information, banking, life insurance. We paid for and arranged for my
funeral and cremation and put that all together.

Then plans were made for travelling and visiting family, having some outings
between chemo treatments, plans made after that was complete.

In between these things all emotions were felt, from anger to sadness to
acceptance. I became very angry with the lung cancer rates and results from
research, lack of funding. I came to the point that I have done what I can
do. I've done my part to the best of my ability. Now is my time for my
family and friends and I now life each day in that space. Taking what
enjoyment I can each day. Some struggles being harder than others. There are
days where I would prefer not to wake up. There are days I'm so thankful
that I do wake up. Those are my days now. :-)

Penny

Edward J.

Find some more info about classes and pharmacotherapeutical treatment
of cancer and related medical conditions of neoplasms:
http://drugs-about.com/icd/c00-d48.html">Cancer Diseases -
Drugs-about.com - ICD-10

This is a very provocative question.  Lots here to think about.  I am
enjoying reading what others have to say.

Socks did a little dance around learning his staging.  He had pleural
effusion which we know now is automatic Stage IV, but we didn't then.
 I recently found a little booklet he was given that explained all of
this in straight-forward terms.  From what I found with the booklet,  I
can tell he was given it right away, but he apparently didn't read
it.  Maybe forgot he had it...??

So he came home from filling out forms to apply for a clinical trial &
announced that he'd figured out he had Stage IIIB or Stage IV because
that was required to participate.  He didn't answer my question about
why didn't he just ask.

I think he wanted to know without knowing, if you know what I mean.

Fig

I had to think about this overnight. I guess I wanted to know everything
at the beginning and figured I'd sort out the emotional issues later.
With the second cancer I had the additional activity surrounding the
onc who bought bogus test information and declared me dead prematurely;
that only made me mad and more determined to find out exactly where I
stood.

Most of my life's missed opportunities I can chalk up to not knowing
what my choices were, or what alternatives existed. The more I know
about my condition and the medical treatment surrounding it, the more
likely I'll be able to seize upon good opportunities and the less
likely I am to be at the mercy of people like Dr. Death Sentence.