Somedays it isn't easy to remain up-attitude.
I've tried to keep up with SWMBO's Battle Royal with Lung Cancer on a more or less monthly basis, but I skipped September and October because there wasn't a lot of news to tell.
In August I discussed her trip to Massachusetts General, located in Boston Massachusetts (hereinafter "Mass Gen", since I can't even spell Massachusetts).
After her interview and counseling with Dr. Shaw SWMBO returned to Oregon and begin working with her local Oncologist, Dr. Kenyon, and the crew at Good Samaritan Hospital ("Good Sam"), trying to gather all of her test records including CT scans, etc., on one CD to ship to Dr. Shaw for evaluation.
Dr. Shaw was particularly interested in comparing the relative CT scans over a period of time with the medications being used ... mainly, Avastin. At $3,500 to $4,000 per treatment, and treatments every month, it seemed that it should do some good.
But the first CD sent to Dr. Shaw directly from Good Sam just never arrived. After a few weeks, SWMBO emailed Dr. Shaw asking if she hadn't had time to evaluate the results. It was not until then that she learned that the CD had never arrived.
So she asked Dr. Kenyon to arrange for the delivery of another CD. That one, too, was Lost in Space.
Finally SWMBO took charge of her own welfare and early in October, 2009, she spent another $45 to have a third CD cut. Then she shipped it next-day FED EX to Dr. Shaw, and the next day received an email noting that the shipment had been received and the doctor would be evaluating the tests during the next week.
It actually took ten days for Dr. Shaw to call with the results of her evaluation. SWMBO got the phone call when we were in a restaurant having Saturday Lunch. We were just ordering when her cell phone rang. She excused herself and went to a quiet corner to take the call in relative privacy.
Five minutes later she came back to our table and quietly completed giving her order to the waitress.
I asked her about the call. She told me it was Dr. Shaw. They had identified the 'mutation' which was her own personal cancer tumor, based on the DNA samples they had evaluated. This mutation was one for which no cure had ever been identified. Also, the Avastin treatments had not been working for her ... had not been working for the past several months. The tumor was not being reduced as hoped; it was growing again.
She only gave me the bare bones of the conversation, and then our lunch was served and we quietly ate. We both finished our meals, eating everything. Life goes on, we get hungry, we eat. Paid our bill, left a nice tip to the patient waitress who didn't know what was going on with the phone call but we were obviously upset. The we went home, sat on the couch to talk and weep a little.
SWMBO give me a little more information, as well as she could remember.
The 'mutation' was one which they were working on at Mass Gen. No, they had no specific treatment available, but they were "trying things" and "working on it", and as soon as they had any indication of a workable treatment, they would let her know. In the meantime, they would recommend to Dr. Kenyon a new course of Chemotherapy. Forget the expensive Avastin which is not working. We don't know what the specific drugs are, but they should (Dr. Shaw hoped) serve to limit the rate of growth, if not actually reduce the size of the tumor.
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SWMBO took her first infusion of the new "Cancer Cocktail" 0n Wednesday last. She had a good session; they had the best needle-person in the office plug into her veins. That's a blessing, because her veins have collapsed a bit over the past year-and-change, and its usually a grueling trial for her as the technicians try various veins in her inner elbow, forearm, and the back of her hands before they get a "good stick". This time, instead of coming home with big bruises all over both hands and forearms, there was just one small bruise. A very encouraging sign.
Last weekend we had a quiet Halloween at home, watching DVDs rented from Hollywood Video. "The Proposal" was a lot more positive than The NCSI Marathon with blood and gore which typifies the well-written, but depressing series. We had a couple of dads-with-two-kids ring the doorbell to shout "Trick Or Treat!", and we gave out a couple of mini-Baby Ruth bars. Then we turned of the porch light and just vegged on the couch while we watched the movies.
Monday, SWMBO had "A Bad Day". She couldn't move around without causing a coughing jag. She was beginning to feel the side-effects of the chemotherapy. She doesn't have a good sense of balance, she feels under the weather and she's always tired and she can't often sleep through the night without coughing. When the coughing starts, with a lot of phlegm coming up, she can't lie prone. The best she can do is go sit on the couch where she can doze propped into a sitting position.
...
After work tonite I went over to her home to take her trash cans out to the curb. Wednesday is Trash Day, and her recycle barrel was full and the garbage barrel was also too heavy for her to handle. Stopped at the Safeway and got her a loaf of All Grain Bread; Cardboard in a Plastic Bag, but good for you!
She was feeling (thumb and forefinger a quarter-inch apart) a little better, but still a bit under the weather.
Still, she looked good. Robe and pajamas, no face-wash or hair-comb, but she looked good. Good color, the famous sparkling eyes, she dredged up the smile that enslaves me. Loving her is a privilege.
They think that the current course of chemotherapy won't cost her hair this time, as it did last year. Her voice is a bit squeaky, as if her throat was tight, but if she doesn't talk too much for too long she sounds good until she talks too much for too long and she starts coughing again.
You know what really kicks me in the rear?
They, the doctors, tell you to eat right with lots of fiber, vegetables and fruits, little red meat, lots of vitamins and minerals. Don't drink, don't smoke, get plenty of rest and plenty of exercise. You'll be fine; bring in the next patient.
She does all of those things; she has lead a healthy life-style for years.
I smoke, drink, spend all day on the computer at the office and all night on the computer at home. Eat pasta and red meat and don't exercise at all. I'm a Geek, she's a Princess. More, she's a Goddess: She Who Must Be Obeyed. Read the book.
It's just not right.
She has my tumor, dammit. I worked hard for it. I earned it. She ... doesn't deserve it.
And she feels bad because her feeling bad makes me worry about her.
Somedays it isn't easy to remain up-attitude.
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