The last 3 weeks, it’s safe to say that I have been a bit of a mess. Since being released from hospital, I’ve had a varying amount of hospital appointments, tests, and finally an MRI. I was trying to stay positive and believe that it wasn’t a relapse, but the more I tried, the more I failed and I was carrying around this big weight on my shoulders.
They weren’t sure if the thing pressing on my heart was nothing, a relapse of Hodgkin’s, a relapse of thyroid cancer or something that could cause me to go into heart failure within 48 hours of giving birth.
I’d convinced myself it was the Hodgkin’s. And I knew what that meant. It would mean delivering the baby early. It would be inpatient chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant, which would basically mean a month in hospital. A month away from my boys. Someone else looking after and bonding with my newborn, so that when I came out of hospital he wouldn’t know who I was. Not being able to breastfeed.
I have not been in a good place.
The MRI scan yesterday was horrible. I don’t usually get claustrophobic, but I really didn’t enjoy being in that confined space. I kept my eyes closed throughout the whole thing so I couldn’t see the tunnel so close to my face, and the baby was kicking the whole time. I don’t think he liked it much either.
I didn’t expect to hear anything until next week when I go for another haematology check up, but last night around 6.30pm, the phone rang and it was the cardiologist who referred me for the MRI. He had the results for me.
I cried on the phone, when I heard his voice I was convinced it was bad news. Why would he be calling so soon if it wasn’t, but then he told me that he’d seen the radiologists report and that it was all normal. He said some other things as well, but I can’t remember exactly what as I was just focusing on the all clear bit.
To say I’m relieved is an understatement. I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders. It means I can enjoy my pregnancy again, and I might actually feel like packing my hospital bag and sorting through newborn clothes. I’ve been putting it off for the last few weeks, not really knowing what was going on, and whether I would need to buy tiny baby clothes.
I know the chance of relapse is still there and I know I’m not really out of the woods until I reach the 5 year mark (just another 3 to go), but for now I am still cancer free, and that is enough.
Roll on 5 weeks and 4 days!