There doesn't seem to be enough time to sit down and update the blog. Everyday, I plan to set aside some time, then life gets in the way and another page is turned on the calendar. So, I find myself trying to cram as much into one blog as I can, without rambling endlessly, and boring you all as close to death as possible.
This week was my visit to the Medical Oncologist up here in Minocqua - Dr. Yasar. I'm a little upset that Northwestern had not yet forwarded a copy of the latest MRI they did last month. Dr. Yasar had the radiology report that she was able to review, and found the results better than she had expected.
I had a handful of questions to lay on Dr. Yasar:
(1) Does she think chemo is necessary at this point in the treatment? No. There would be no benefits to putting me through chemo at this point.
(2) Does she think that the proton radiation therapy was sufficient for my type of cancer? At this point, it is hard to tell. Cancer cells are still dying due to the proton radiation treatment. I have another MRI scheduled for September, that will give us a better idea of what to expect for the future.
(3) Will this dry mouth/throat ever clear up? Yes, it will. It typically takes six months to a year for the side effects to wear off after treatment has stopped.
(4) Will the sore in my mouth ever completely heal? It will. How long until? We just don't know.
(5) How is it that whenever I drink something, it comes out my left ear? (I have a tube in my left ear because my Eustachian tube is closed. If I drink something sweet like Coke or Sweet Tea, I literally get sugar crystals in my ear. I know this sounds really weird, but it is true.) She referred me to an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist.
(6) Will my nerves ever repair themselves and make me normal again? Most likely not. Nerves can repair themselves, but they do not regenerate. The extent of nerve damage/destruction is so significant that it would give me false hope to think otherwise.
OK, well my take away is that I won't be doing chemo, which is a huge plus for me! This dry mouth/throat thing, along with the sore in my mouth, will eventually clear up. Also another win!
The down side is that the nerves may never heal. That's not the worst thing in the world. If I end up with no feeling in the left side of my head, deaf in my left ear, and a useless left eye, I can live with that. So, I bite the inside of my left cheek every time I eat - I can't feel it anyway!
Seriously, in the seven weeks I was down at the Northwestern Chicago Proton Center, I met a lot of cancer patients. Some of these people were in a lot worse shape than me. The guy in treatment #4 that I wrote about, didn't make it. They managed to keep mine under control, so that it was never life threatening. I suppose it could have taken a left turn at any moment, and became life threatening, but it didn't. For that I will always be grateful.
There are four stages of cancer that every patient looks optimistically towards. The first is treatment. Whatever the flavor might be for each individuals treatment, it is the hard part. It might be surgery, or chemo, or radiation, or any combination of them all. This is the hard part. Some see it as a badge of honor, others see it as something that they need to get through to achieve the desired outcome. No matter how you look at it, it is never easy.
The second stage is recovery. It is the, sometimes aggravating, patience strangling, fear of the unknown, step that keeps us up at night - wondering how many more tomorrows we have left. This is where I find myself, now.
Third is remission. This is a time to celebrate! The cancer has been eradicated. There is no sign of cancer anywhere. You are safe, at least for the moment. Will it come back? Am I truly free? Only time will tell.
The fourth is cure. Enough time has passed that the doctors are certain that the cancer is gone - never to return again. It almost seems anticlimactic. You have been through so much. The sickness that comes with chemo. The burns that come with radiation. The risk and healing that comes with surgery. The waiting to find out what comes next. The fears that the treatment was enough. And, the doubts that, even though the doctors give you their 100% assurance that it is over, you still wonder if it truly is.
Cancer is the unwelcome intruder. It would almost be better if cancer were as quick as a gunshot. Bang, you're dead. No time to think, no time to react. But, it doesn't work that way. Cancer is the master of torture. Both physically and mentally - it makes you feel every moment. It gives you hope in one moment, then strips it away as quickly as it came. All there is to do is to not let it master us. Stay ahead of it, keep a positive attitude throughout the whole process. It is not easy to do, but will make all of the difference in the end - no matter the outcome.
So, I wait. Still choosing to wake up every morning with a smile on my face, and the anticipation of seeing what the day will bring. There is still so much to do. I don't have time to sit around and mope. He is not done with me yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment