Thank God we got some good news today. No new cancer, some tumors shrunk and everything else stayed the same. The next step is surgery. And soon. They want to do it before Christmas. I will know more on Monday when I call to schedule a consultation with the surgeon. They want to move quickly because if it is not done within the next few weeks, I will have to have another chemo blast and that will delay the surgery and on and on. So Merry Christmas to me.
This is why the surgery is a good thing. It will take out the primary tumor, the parts of my colon that perforated, the cancerous lymph nodes and peritoneum. The idea is to get all of this out, especially the part of my colon that perforated, so they can use more aggressive drugs on my liver. This surgery will not touch the liver. Another good thing is I might be able to eat more normally, and will be in less pain (after the big giant pain of surgery).
Dr B. is hot to use a drug called Avastin. It is supposed to be a super tumor shrinker. So fast, in fact, that colons that have perforated will rip if it used. That is why they have to get that section of colon out of there. Chemo will start again as soon as 6 weeks after surgery- depending on how quickly I heal. That seems a little mean, but I am going to believe this is the best course of action to get this unwelcome crap out of my body.
I am not afraid of surgery. I am afraid of the pain, how Pat and Bennett will cope, what chemo might be like after surgery but these are all things that can wait. For tonight I am just going to revel in the fact that I have less cancer in me than I did four months ago and that makes me pretty happy. Oh, it was almost hard to use that word. It's been a long time since I've had any good news about this process, and now I have some. Yay.
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Friday, December 3, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Crying for Cabbage
Tonight I actually started crying when Pat ate her dinner. I was so jealous. She sat down to eat some sauteed cabbage, carrots and chicken. Not exactly gourmet, but compared to the Ensure and the anti-gas pill I was consuming...and it smelled so good. I realize now that I haven't had a real meal since I was in the hospital five weeks ago. Sure, I've had my soups and my beef broth with an egg, but my soul wants a plate. A plate with whole foods on it that I can bite into and chew. Ah, to chew, what a thought.
There are two problems. One is the blockage by the big tumor in my colon which means not much can pass through. I won't go into too much detail, but you get the picture. The theory is when the tumor shrinks, the area for what used to be food to pass through would get bigger, thereby making eating easier. There is also the real chance that this part of my colon will actually shrink with the tumor, then I will be in exactly the same predicament as I am now. Time will tell.
Problem number two is the gas. And we've talked about this before. An indelicate subject, but one we all know intimately. The place where the tumor is sometimes blocks the gas from getting to where is needs to go - which is out. So I take an anti-gas pill four times a day. They help a ton, but there is still enough air movement to make Pat turn her head and Bennett to ask if there is thunder in there (a direct quote from last night). And it does hurt sometimes. Not like it used to, but if I am not super careful about what I eat, when I eat, how much etc., I can get into some real trouble, which really scares me.
And it makes me so sad. Sadder than I thought it would. I guess it's a little like my hair. I didn't think it would bother me, but it really does in a deep and troubling way. I knew the cancer would really bother me, but I just assumed the hair and the food and the fatigue would just be sort of incidental. I knew my life would change, but not so thoroughly. I am not sure what I was thinking. I guess there is no way to know until you get here. I can talk to as many people as I want who've made it to the other side, but I can't know what my journey, my response, will be until I am there. Sometimes it is as big a surprise to me as it is to you.
There are two problems. One is the blockage by the big tumor in my colon which means not much can pass through. I won't go into too much detail, but you get the picture. The theory is when the tumor shrinks, the area for what used to be food to pass through would get bigger, thereby making eating easier. There is also the real chance that this part of my colon will actually shrink with the tumor, then I will be in exactly the same predicament as I am now. Time will tell.
Problem number two is the gas. And we've talked about this before. An indelicate subject, but one we all know intimately. The place where the tumor is sometimes blocks the gas from getting to where is needs to go - which is out. So I take an anti-gas pill four times a day. They help a ton, but there is still enough air movement to make Pat turn her head and Bennett to ask if there is thunder in there (a direct quote from last night). And it does hurt sometimes. Not like it used to, but if I am not super careful about what I eat, when I eat, how much etc., I can get into some real trouble, which really scares me.
And it makes me so sad. Sadder than I thought it would. I guess it's a little like my hair. I didn't think it would bother me, but it really does in a deep and troubling way. I knew the cancer would really bother me, but I just assumed the hair and the food and the fatigue would just be sort of incidental. I knew my life would change, but not so thoroughly. I am not sure what I was thinking. I guess there is no way to know until you get here. I can talk to as many people as I want who've made it to the other side, but I can't know what my journey, my response, will be until I am there. Sometimes it is as big a surprise to me as it is to you.
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