Pancreatic atrophy sounds worse than it is (so far).

My recent CT scan was "fantastic," according to my general physician. Which most likely means she reviewed the report by the radiologist and hopefully gave the actual imaging a quick look before having a nurse call me with the results. I got that phone call the day after my CT, so I only had to wait about 24 hours for the results. "Scanxiety" (anxiety over looming scan/scan results) is not fun. I will say that this period of scanxiety was the mildest thus far. Both time and practice have made me better at waiting. I also wasn't super nervous in the weeks before the CT scan. Oddly, going over the "worst likely case scenario" in my head and out loud is helpful. What is the worst likely case scenario? In my non-medical opinion, the worst likely case scenario would be a recurrence of my tumor. That only mildly freaks me out, as I've beat it before & I know that a recurrence isn't even close to a death sentence. Does it up the chance of death by pancreatic tumor? Sure, but it doesn't make it imminent. There are a nearly unlimited supplies of "worst case scenarios" out there, so that is why I choose to focus on only what is relatively likely given my medical history. No need to "borrow trouble" by worrying over other possible, though unlikely, scenarios.

The week following my CT scan, I met with my gastrointestinal doctor. He, too, reported that there was no recurrence of my tumor, which is excellent. The results were largely unremarkable, if you ignore my half pancreas and other "surgical changes." The radiologist did note some signs of pancreatic atrophy, though. I know enough words to know that "pancreatic atrophy" means that some of my pancreas tissue appears to be dead. I asked if that was to be expected after having a Whipple surgery, and my doctor replied "we don't really know, most patients are in their 60s and 70s when they have that surgery." He went on to explain that as we age, our insides age, too. So my pancreas looks fine, mostly, but it looks older than my 36 years. He asked how much of my pancreas was taken out. I told him what I knew. When I asked my surgeon how much of my pancreas he took out, he replied: "What I took out probably wasn't working very well anyway." I've always interpreted that particular conversation with my surgeon as "you have less than half left," but also "you have enough." Vague, but so far, so good. My doctor explained that this is something we'll have to watch. Over time, I might become a surgically-induced, insulin-dependent diabetic. I might also depend on pancreatic enzymes more so than I already do. None of this was new information; my surgeon told me all of this after my surgery. I knew the future of my pancreatic function might look a little bleak. Fortunately, though, modern medicine has caught up to sub-par pancreases. Maybe someday the future will bring us 3D printed pancreases, but for now, I will continue to be monitored and try to be kind to my surgically altered self.