Week Eleven

Here we go….Week Eleven.  Weight last Friday was 135.6 lbs.  Weight today (9/8) is 136.9 lbs.  Modest improvement, so the extra syringes of water between feedings and when I wake up at night are helping.

 

So far, this confrontation with cancer has been a series of mood swings.  When we first got the diagnosis of esophageal cancer, I was nervous.  Then when I had the PET scan to see if the  cancer had metastasized elsewhere, I got scared while waiting for the results.  I started thinking about this being the end.

Then my brain starting thinking about the different ways one can leave this world.  There’s the quick, unannounced heart attack, stroke, or fatal accident, where you don’t get a chance to contemplate your demise.  One minute everything is fine, the next minute you’re dead.  No chance to say good-bye, to hug a loved one before you go.  Like slipping out the back door of a party.

Then there’s the slow departure, like cancer, where you can get your house in order, say all your good-byes to loved ones and friends, and have a graceful exit.  And I started wondering which way I would prefer to go.  Maybe the slow way wouldn’t be so bad…and with my diagnosis, maybe that’s the way I would go.  And I could make sure Andrew got my new Pikolino shoes.  So I contemplated that departure scenario for a while, and got kind of comfortable with it.

Then the PET scan results came in, and I didn’t have a death sentence!  The cancer hadn’t metastasized elsewhere….maybe a little in the nearby lymph nodes, but otherwise okay.  So I got out of ‘death mode’ mood and started thinking positively.  I got upbeat….let’s whip this cancer.  We can do it!

I met with my three doctors (chemo, radiation, and surgeon).  They were all positive, all confident.  Okay, I thought, let’s go get ’em. The surgeon assured me the operation would go well…it was his specialty and he was very good at it.  He gave me confidence…”Let’s do it” I thought.

The surgeon did say the treatment before surgery would be tough, very tough, tougher than I might imagine.  Concurrent chemo and radiation for six weeks.  But then after six more weeks to recover, the surgeon would step in like a hero, take out the tumor, and save the day.  “All right,” I said, “I’m ready.” I was feeling positive, ready to battle and defeat this cancer annoyance.

We started the treatment. I breezed through the first three or four weeks.  No problems.  “When are the side effects going to hit me,” I asked the chemo and radiation doctors.  Pretty soon they said.  “It will be the worst when the treatment is over.” But I was feeling positive, upbeat, confident.  I was ready for the worst.

In the seventh week the worst arrived.  Sore throat, weak, couldn’t swallow, a couple trips to Emergency Room, a four day stay in ICU, dehydrated, lousy poops, interminable feeding sessions four times a day to get needed nourishment.  Same in the eighth week, and the ninth.  Like being stuck in the doldrums, going nowhere, no end in sight.

I will say, my spirit lagged, but prayers and good thoughts from friends and family kept me going.  Put one foot in front of the other, keep moving, and just hang on….things will get better, some day!

And sure enough, near the latter part of Week Ten I started to feel a little bit better.  Not great, mind you, but better.  Started eating some cottage cheese, had a little more energy, throat not so sore.  “I am going to make it,” I thought.

And so that was my mind set as we headed into Week Eleven.  Over the weekend, old friends from Marysville/Yuba City stopped by for a visit.  We recalled the misspent days of our youth, and all the fun and laughter we shared fifty years ago.  On Sunday, long time friends from my early days at the State stopped by, with some avocado soup!

All the visiting kind of wore me out, but it was good to see these folks from many years ago.  I was feeling better, positive, upbeat, but a little tired.  Then Tuesday was the big day…..a PET scan to see the results of the six week chemo and radiation barrage.  They injected some radioactive sugar into my system, had me wait for an hour as it spread through my body, then took twenty minutes of pictures, very similar to an MRI.  The results of this will show whether the cancer has spread, which will determine whether or not to even do surgery (If it’s spread, then treatment is likely just palliative).

So now I’m a little nervous again, but feeling positive and hopefully confident that the results are good.  We have an appointment on Thursday to go over the results with my chemo oncologist.

Thursday arrived, and we were ready.  Andrew and wife Mel joined Carol and me as we met with our chemo doctor.  Coincidently both Mel and my doctor are from Australia, and they went to the same college.  So I wanted Mel and the doctor to meet and greet.  They did, and it was a very pleasant appointment.

The PET scan results were all good.  The cancer has not spread, and the tumor has shrunk considerably.  Still, there’s a little something to be worried about.  The PET scan could not tell if there is a mild cancer presence in the nearby lymph nodes or whether the  nodes are simply swollen from the radiation.  So we won’t know about that until the pathology is done on the lymph nodes after surgery.  My doctor did say there is the possibility of more chemo after surgery if there is some lingering cancer in the nodes.  Well, let us hope not.  I’m thinking positive (with a little nervousness)!

We meet with the surgeon next week, to map out the surgical details, with surgery scheduled for the following week.

And also, on Thursday, I had my first non-watery poop in TWO WEEKS.

On that high note, I will leave you all until next week.

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