SWMBO and the Oncologist

I took SWMBO to her first meeting with her Oncologist Monday morning. Nice German chap, we could hardly figure out what he said. It took me a half-hour to understand that the chemotherapy would include being dosed with Platinum. He kept referring to the treatment as “the poison we feed you”.

SWMBO went in with the understanding that she had six months, max, even with chemotherapy. On the way out she declared that she was going to be that one-in-two-hundred who was cured. So we went out to lunch.

As we were driving off I mentioned that I had posted her plight on the blog. To my amazement, she announced that she had actually read it. That’s not something she does very often. (No man is a king in his own castle.) Then she said she received an email invitation to come up for dinner with The Usual Suspects, and she was enthusiastic about it. Now, anyway, if not later.

She’s going in for a PET CT (?) on Saturday, and possibly also an MRI to make sure she doesn’t have a brain tumor. Doctor Major (pronounced "Mayor") doesn’t think so, but he wants to be sure.) Then on Wednesday she goes in for her first chemotherapy. It takes six to 8 hours, and she shouldn’t drive herself home because they don’t know what her reactions will be to 'the poisons we feed you'. It’s a cocktail, more or less, and they have to administer it very slowly so the body doesn’t reject it immediately.

I suggested that I would drive her to the appointment, but perhaps a taxi ride home would be a good idea. “At least, you can puke in somebody else’s car.” She said she would consider it. Her sister also volunteered to drive her to and fro. I’m thinking of yielding to her generous offer.

So we’re not being dreadful today, and that’s a good thing.
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Oh, yeah. Let's drop this "SWMBO" thing. It was fun while it was fun, but "She - Who Must Be Obeyed" is yesterday's nickname.

"SHE" is Sandie. Sandie, who is no longer an anonymous internet icon, but a very real, very important woman. Sandie is too important to me to continue as a symbol. I hope that those of you who aren't personally acquainted with her will recognize her as more 'real' than I had ever allowed her to be here.
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We went into the consultation with the hopes that, with chemotherapy, she would have six months. When we left, Sandie told me that she expects that she will be the "one-in-two-hundred" who respond completely to chemotherapy and resume full, normal lives. She also found, when she went back to work, that she had a couple of phone messages scheduling other tests. The Doctor(s) are being very thorough, although intrusive.

She has a good chance of achieving this goal: she doesn't smoke, she's physically stronger than she believes, and she doesn't exhibit any signs of debilitation, other than the tendency to cough a lot. As Doctor Major said: "Looking at the two of you, I can't tell which has Cancer".

Sandie had expected to spend the next weekend in a conclave with her four (!) sisters in a cabin in the high mountains. Unfortunately, the PET CT test is scheduled for Saturday. She will be required to forget her plans for spending quality time with her sisters, in favor of the tests which will determine whether, among other things, she also has a brain tumor (not likely, but would require priority in treatment over Lung Cancer) and other things which are Good To Know for an Oncologist who is trying to save his patient.

We knew that treatment would be intrusive in many ways, but we didn't realize that tests and treatments would negatively affect our weekends. How naive we are.

Today we received several more emails from friends who offered support, prayers and advice. Thank you, all of you.

We heard from Dave F., who we met at the 1998 Area 1 match in Reno, Nevada. We have seen him ONCE since then, but continued to keep in touch via email. Dave is a mortician in Montana, and has encouraged us to refer to him as "Digger". (It's a Mortician thing, not my fault.

You know you are loved, as I told Dave, when the mortician sends you a "Get Well Soon" card.

Dave also suggested that we contact support groups in our area. I had not thought of this, but Sandie had. At least she said so when I talked to her.

What's next?

Sandie will be tested for every bit of Cancer which may be in her body. I had originally stated that she is in "Stage 1" of the Cancer, but Doctor Mayor informed us today that, since it was 'deemed" to be in both lungs, that definitively constituted "Stage 4" cancer, because it was found in two organs.

But we don't really know this. They never ran a biopsy on the left lung. The PET CT test will find all the metastasizing tissues, and then at least the doctors will know the battleground.

The bottom line, for now, is that we don't really know how scary this is. But our friend Sherrie O. wrote to say that she was just completing her last chemotherapy for Breast Cancer, and it sounds as if her doctors don't feel the need to continue treatment for the foreseeable future. Hooray for Sherrie! I hope she beat it, she's good people.

In response to the flood of emails we've received over the past two days, Sandie said to me: "You're right about the messages from our sporting community (not surprised here). We've always known that they are exceptional people. Our circumstances just emphasize it."