Round #1 of Chemo

I can't believe I've haven't blogged more recently. I have broken my own promise and the implied one to you, my followers.

Cancer hurts, and the weapon of choice is painful too. I have been caught in the crossfires.

On Monday I had to go through "what to expect," some blood tests, a kidney PT scan, and some hydration via IV. I was seriously dehydrated. My first round of chemo began on Tuesday (Erin thinks I will become the "Tuesday group.") with more hydration, and then finally the real chemo. (Including hydration time--about six hours.) I left with "chemo to go"--a little portable pack still attached to my PowerPort. Today after about 48 hours of the portable pack, it was empty as scheduled, and I got it removed. So today I am unencumbered! 

Life with chemo is a little dopey; I have a hard time typing. I am sleeping or napping a lot, and, of course, whenever I am awake, John is handing me a mug of hot tea. So my goal is to stay hydrated and sleep.

Next chemo is probably on April 12.

I will try harder to keep up with the blog!

Weekends Are for Resting

Saturdays and Sundays are good for resting, clearing the mind of excess worries, and gearing up the what the week brings. That sounds a little like weekends when I has teaching, except for the hours of essay-paper grading. John often wonders what our lives would have been like if we had gotten this diagnosis about two years ago while we were still teaching and living in Germany. If there is an upside to this, I am glad it happened here in the U.S., and I am glad I got to see my new granddaughter, enjoy her and Tyler, before the diagnosis. Of course, that starts a lot of "what if" existentential questions, and I want to look at this a little more directly.

A Good Day

I have been without pain or anti-nausea medication all day, and except for some minor and surprising vomiting, I declare it good day. John and I take walks in our backyard almost every day, looking for any crocuses, daffodils, hyacinths, or tulips, and today we found over a dozen sprouts. That makes it a good day too! Before we left Germany, we ordered those flower bulbs from a Keukenhof supplier in the Netherlands, so after a long, long wait, we will soon appreciate our own little Keukenhof.

Yesterday was not so good: afternoons and evenings are sometimes difficult. I went through my entire pharmacopoeia, and fortunately fell asleep around midnight.

The weekend once again is free of medical appointments, and Monday we have chemo information and financial paperwork, and Tuesday is the real deal--chemotherapy, exactly three weeks after my diagnosis.

At this point I don't know what to expect, but I am ready to get this started. Send your  prayers to give me strength!

My Port Has Been Tapped

Very early this morning we spent a few hours at the emergency room because of my pain, nausea, and vomiting. After another CT scan, some blood tests, receiving pain and anti-nausea medication, ruling out other possibilities, the ER doctor decided my stomach, new to the recent surgery and my attempts at eating some solid foods were the cause.

During my stay at the ER, the nurse asked me if my port had been tapped yet. An odd question, strangely comical sounding, I thought. My Power Port, installed less than a week ago, had not been tapped. And so it soon was: I was able to give the blood for the blood tests, receive an IV with morphine and anti-nausea medication.

This afternoon I received two more anti-nausea prescriptions while meeting with my oncologist. He has ordered the first chemotheraphy medicine, and the first treatment  will very likely be next Tuesday. He explained the procedure, the time it will take, and likely reactions I will have.

Until then, it's waiting time again, and time to try another anti-nausea medication.

Home from the Hospital

It feels so good to be home. I am still recuperating and need pain medication. I miss the caring nursing staff and the morphine drip at the hospital, but being home is the way to get stronger.

My continued thanks for your love, prayers, and visits. I need them all.

Hoping to come home on Monday

Marilyn had a good day and we are hoping she comes home on Monday. We still take our walks down the hall and things are looking good. Wednesday she has an appointment with the oncologist and we will know more about her treatment plan then. She is on a what they call a solid liquid diet which still means very little to eat. Tonight she was allowed some applesauce and yojurt. Hopefully she will tolerate that well. If Marilyn gets to come home tomorrow she will be writing her blog and the skill level of writing will go back up.

Thanks again to all

Unhooked

Marilyn lost her IV pole today. This allowed her to get up and move around more freely and she could get out of bed without assistance. We also took several walks down the halls on her floor. Marilyn was also allowed to go on a solid liquid diet. This means she can finally have jello, pudding and even some milk and fruit juice. No real solid food yet. Marilyn has had no real solid food since Monday night the 14th. There is a slim chance she will be released tomorrow but most likely Monday or Tuesday. I know she is looking forward to getting home where she can again write on her blog. We see her oncologist on Wednesday and hope to find out when we can begin treatment.

Thanks again for your support and prayers.

Clear liquids

Marilyn continued with her walks down the hall and back. Today she went all the way to the elevators and I'm sure she wished she could get on one and go home. Clear liquids were given for the first time today. She is allowed to drink 10oz. every 8 hours. Apple and cranberry juice really tasted good. The solid food will have to wait until the doctors say that is ok. Marilyn has not eaten any solid food since Monday evening. The good sign today is that she is starting to feel hungry.

Marilyn did say if anyone wanted to stop by please do it in the afternoon if at all possible. Doctors usually come by in the morning and of course the nurses are always checking her vital signs.

Thank you to everyone for their prayers and support.

Up and walking

Today was a good day for Marilyn as she made progress in her recovery from the surgery. She was able to get out of bed in the morning and take a shower which made her feel refreshed. During the afternoon she again got out of bed and went for a short walk down the hall and a few hours later she did an even longer walk on short loop in the wing of the hospital. When I returned after having dinner we went on her third walk of the day on that loop but did it twice. Marilyn has enjoyed watching her favorite show Jeopardy.  She is in good spirits and hopefully we will have a more definitive answer about when she can be released.

Surgery #1

I'm writing tonight to let you know how Marilyn's day went. We were at the hospital by 7:30 and got her checked in and they took her to get her ready for the surgery. I was allowed to go which I was very appreciative of. The nurses were wonderful! When the doctor checked with us before surgery we got the first good news of the day. The results of the PET scan came back and there were no new areas of concern, just what we knew from the CAT scan and colonoscopy. Marilyn went into surgery about 9 and was done by 11:15. The doctor came and talked to me about 11:30 and said everything had gone well. When I could see her in her room she was awake but of course in some pain. She could control the pain medicine which was great. She sleep a lot at the beginning but as the day wore on she took less pain medication and was awake longer. She even got to watch her favorite show Jeopardy. Marilyn is sleeping now and if we can figure out the internet in her room she will write on her blog from there. Thank you for all your prayers and support.

"wrapped in love"

I won't know the results of this morning's PET scan until tomorrow, and tomorrow is also the surgery.

The absolute highlight of the day was a visit from my new dear friend, Judy F., who brought me a prayer shawl she knitted. Not only is it beautiful and warm, but it makes my eyes moisten to think of what a loving gesture this is. I am "cradled in hope, kept in joy, graced with peace, and wrapped in love." I also associate it with all the gestures of love and kindness bestowed on me by friends and family.

Pi/Pie Day

Dear mathematicians, especially Megan: I know it's Pi day (3.14). Read on for how it connects with me today.

Today we met two new doctors, my oncologist Dr. Moore and my surgeon Dr. Collins. Double new patient forms, lists of medications, my medical history, my family's medical history.

He had the results of my colon biopsy--malignant. No completely far-out possibility of something else. Pie in the face #1. The oncologist had me take a blood test (CEA--cancer embryonic antigen) to determine a baseline number now and watch for improved results with future tests. He showed us results from the CT scans, especially where the cancer is lurking in the colon and the liver. Yes, the liver. I thought liver cancer was still a probability, but it's a reality. Pie in the face #2.

He scheduled me for a PET/CT scan tomorrow. I still have not found out what PET stands for, but it will "generate high-resolution images" of the presence of cancer. I go to a place called PET Imaging (not a place to photograph your pooch, apparently). Tonight, in addition to my dietary restrictions from Celiac disease--diagnosed six month ago, and the low fiber diet from my colon blockage, I add no carbohydrates. Okay, no gluten, no fiber, no carbs, but it's one evening only--not pie-worthy.

He then told us of the treatment plan. Liver cancer trumps colon cancer, so we work on chemotherapy as quickly as possible. So I need surgery to insert a colostomy bag. Pie in the face #3. This will temporarily solve the colon blockage, at the same time as adding an accessory for the next four months or so. After chemotheraphy in completed, I will have another surgery to remove the blockage and resection the colon. I am quite familiar with discussing pooping/not pooping after visiting my two-and-a-half-year-old grandson Tyler. Let the jokes begin!

Later today we met with the surgeon, who scheduled the surgery for Wednesday morning, and who happens to be a colon and liver cancer survivor himself. Definitely no pies here! The surgery will have another purpose: to insert a Power Port to act as a portal for chemo drugs. When the wounds heal in a couple of weeks, I can begin chemotheraphy.

I am ready for the next two days! I will be home tomorrow after the PET scan and perhaps can blog, but I will be in the hospital recuperating from surgery for two to four days and won't be able to blog.

Send warm thoughts, healthy vibes, and especially prayers my way! Blessings to all of you!

Weekends Are for Waiting

After Friday's colonoscopy, we are waiting results of the biopsy. Is there someone in Fort Collins who worked on this over the weekend and knows something I don't?

I have an appointment with an oncologist and with a surgeon tomorrow. Really anxious for tomorrow to be here.

One More Time

Friday, March 11, 2011
There is nothing pretty to say about a colonoscopy. Since this was lifetime number six, I told the nurse that I should have a punch card (Erin's joke). No laughter. Oh, well, give me the drugs.

Dr. Durkan, my gastroenterologist, found an almost complete blockage in the transverse area, behind the liver. Of course, he took numerous biopsies. I now must eat a low-fiber diet (after always trying to get that extra fiber for years!) I love fruit smoothies!

Thinking about Ashes

Wednesday, March 9, 2011, Ash Wednesday

The morning started with good news: the ultrasound showed only fibroids, no cause for concern.

Today John emailed many of our Wuerzburg friends, and return emails began to arrive. How my spirits were cheered, remembering so many loving and caring people! And so many who were cancer survivors!

We arranged to speak with our parish priest today, asking for spiritual support, and thinking about the inevitable. We do have wills, but have never made end-of-life decisions. Cremation or traditional burial? I could never decide. Today at Ash Wednesday mass, ashes seemed so right. Before another second passes, know that we are thinking of the far distant future!

I managed to go to one of my beloved book clubs on this evening, and be normal for one more time!

"Have your husband come with you."

Tuesday, March 8, 2011, Fasching Dienstag
Dr. Podjahsky's nurse, Carolyn, called shortly after the early morning urine sample, and told me I was to go immediately for a CT scan at the Harmony Campus of Poudre Valley Hospital.
(Throughout the last twenty-four hours, John and I were amazed at the speed, efficiency, and kindness of everyone we worked with, compared to our experiences with medical care in the military.)

Shortly after returning home, I got another call from Carolyn, saying Dr. Podjahsky [His name is pronounced as if it were spelled Podowsky--it took me a long time to learn that) would like to see me for another appointment at 2:30 that afternoon. John had taken me to every appointment and test so far and had patiently waited while I went behind the closed doors.

This time when my name was called, I was leaving my jacket with John in the waiting room, but Carolyn said, "Have your husband come with you." I think I had a little quiver of apprehension; John later said he felt it was ominous.

Dr. Pohjahsky told us the CT scan showed cancer in the flexure (angle) of the colon, lesions on the liver, and growths in the uterus. To arrange the ultrasound, he left us alone in the room, to cry, to hold each other, and to wonder what the future held for us.
I would have an ultrasound that evening and another colonoscopy as soon as possible so that they could get a colon biopsy.

We left the doctor's office on this sunny, beautiful day, the day where so many people were having outlandish, raucous celebrations. The world for us was forever changed. The detail I remember is the chips of blue salting compound on the sidewalk outside.

At home, we talked about what we needed to do: tell our daughters, tell our siblings, and cancel several plans we had made for the months ahead. All of the phone calls fell to John: I didn't hear them, but know how difficult it was especially calling Kathleen and Megan. Erin arrived home, and she is one I could tell in person.

[I have had five colonoscopies in my lifetime; it is not something I have ignored. I had one in September, and had to have another in November, just four months ago, to try to reach an area that was uncooperative. My check-up in September showed normal liver enzymes; the same test now showed my liver was inflamed.]

The Beginning

Monday, March 5, 2011
We had been visiting our daughter Kathleen, son-in-law Jon, and grandson Tyler in Texas as they anticipated and welcomed the birth of their new daughter and sister, Alice Olivia. The thrill of seeing our hours-old granddaughter and sharing in her first days is beyond words: a grandmother's dream!

All through this three-week visit, I felt abdominal pain and fatigue. I thought I was suffering from heartburn and exhaustion with keeping up with 2 1/2-year-old Tyler. It was easy to shut out discomfort in the excitement of this visit.

So on Monday morning back in Fort Collins, at John's urging, I called the office of my general practictioner, Dr. Podjahsky. I didn't think I would have a chance of seeing this very busy doctor, but after explaining my symptoms, I got a late afternoon appointment.

After meeting with Dr. Podjahsky and a quick urine test, he found blood in my urine, presumed a problem with kidney stones, and told me to have another urine test the next morning and wanted a CT scan.

I went home and read about kidney stones on the internet.