Rock On (or...my visit with the RO)

Another quarterly visit with yet another Cancer Professional.  This time is was the radiation oncologist (or, rather, everyone in the office but the actual doctor.  Now that I'm healthy I don't warrant a fully-professional visit).  Short version of the visit went something like this:

Me:  "How am I doing?"

Nurse:  "You've gained alot of weight.  Let's see what we can do about that.  Now put on this really ugly gown and wait for the PA."

Several toe-tapping minutes later...

Me:  "How am I doing?"

PA:  "Everything looks good.  But you've gained alot of weight.  Lose it.  See you in another nine months."

Aaaaannnddd...that was it.  Or something like that.  No tests or anything, although Lucy got a real good going-over (so did Ethel, but she's kinda over all the attention that Lucy has caused and so she wasn't particularly happy that morning).  Radiation has caused my skin and muscle and other tissue to shrink, so there is a great deal of associated of pain in my left shoulder and armpit - but no one seems terribly concerned about that.  Except me.  Cuz it hurts and limits my range of motion.  But on the flip side, no lumps, bumps or funny things to be concerned about, so it's another three months of dating NED for me!

I didn't expect much differently during this visit, because the RO doesn't order bloodwork or other scans (so there just isn't much for them to tell me).  But it's still good to see them, to have them see me, and to feel as though I'm not alone in this aftercare.

I've been emailing back and forth with my oncology NP, trying to gather more information about the genetics of my original cancer.  Knowledge is power, blah-blah-blah.  Reality is I want an assurance (or maybe that's a reassurance?) that I'm done with this beast.  Curse you, Cancer, for making me crazy (and fat.  Yes, you're the reason I'm fat.  Thank you).

After several back-and-forth emails, my favorite NP Dianne confirmed what Ken and I already knew, but didn't really want to hear - that my cancer is a molecular subtype known as Luminal B.

What does that mean?  Well, without trying to dissect lots of scholarly articles in this little tiny place (which no one really wants me to do), the easiest way to explain it is this:  It doesn't respond as well to chemo as, say, Luminal A might, and it tends to be aggressive.  In the end it explains why my Oncotype score was so high, and also why my PR status changed from positive (at pathology) to negative (thru Oncotype test). 

What does it mean in the long-term?  Who knows.  Might come back, might not.  Today, cancer is still my bitch.  Tomorrow, that might change.  But life is kinda like that, right?