For the uninitiated, that’s a military acronym for Bend Over, Here It Comes Again. And here it came all right, this time in the form of blood clots in Will’s lungs. They found them on his routine follow-up CT scan yesterday. We learned of this when his oncologist Dr. Wonderful (not to be confused with Dr. Awesomesauce, but he IS wonderful in his own way) called me at 4:45 PM and told me to take him to the ER and tell them about what had been seen on the CT, because he needed treatment right away.
Of course this struck fear into my heart, because I know about PEs (pulmonary emboli) and they are serious. They usually originate in the deep veins of the legs, and when they break off and travel to the vital organs such as the lungs, heart, or brain, they can be life-threatening. Will was out on a walk with our dog, Zinnie, so I called him on his cell phone and basically told him to get his butt home STAT. So off we went, me trying to stay cool because I was scared enough for the both of us, and they ushered him right in.
The ER physician, however, wasn’t impressed. “These have been there for awhile,” he said. “You’ll need anticoagulation (medical therapy that dissolves blood clots) but there’s no imminent danger. We’ll do an ultrasound of your legs, and if there’s no clots we’ll send you home after we start you on some blood thinners.”
Instantly, relief flooded us both. Will hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he was scared shitless and even angry at his body for betraying him again. He’s been doing fantastic lately, with plenty of energy for his projects and his daily walks with Zin, and in fact there had been GOOD news associated with yesterday’s CT—the tumors have shrunk a little more, and there are no new ones. Hurray!
But it seems like it’s always something, and I had a private moment of sadness in the ER restroom when I realized that the future is going to be filled with times like this. It was a reminder that Will is still dealing with a catastrophic disease that is eventually going to win, no matter what we throw at it. We are always going to have to be on the lookout for new problems, new aches and pains, new diagnoses. We are always going to have to guard against falls and pneumonia (he had those too earlier this year). And of course, we are always going to have to watch the cancer itself, lest it grow new tentacles and begin to take over vital organs.
Today, however, he is full of life and high spirits, despite the fact that I’m going to have to give him shots in the belly for the next few days. He’s going to his model club meeting tonight just like he always does on Thursdays, and life will go on as if nothing had happened.
I like his way of thinking. Maybe I should try it myself. 🙂