I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving weekend. We did - spent the weekend with the kids, Saturday night having a phenomenal meal with the Benders and Monday afternoon I impressed Tim with my culinary skills by roasting a 15lb turkey for the two of us. He was a HUGE fan of the stuffing, gravy and if I do say so myself, the very tender and juicy turkey meat. Unfortunately we will now be eating turkey for weeks!
I'm not sure if I have ever really explained the extent of my illness on the blog. Sometimes I worry that giving it too much airtime or actually putting it down in words will make it real, but let's be honest, S**T just got real again in a very big way so I think now is a good time as any to describe my diagnosis and prognosis. As you know, my primary tumor spread through my lymphatic system and into my liver before it was caught. This is a result of the fact that small bowel cancer a) is so rare and b) exhibits very non-specific symptoms, often making it very difficult to diagnose in the early stages. So, my diagnosis is "Stage IV Metastatic Duodenal Adenocarcinoma." According to the oncologist and surgeons it is not curable, BUT the hope is to treat it chronically like any other chronic disease. What that means for me we don't really know. If you were to look up this type of canser on-line, you would see that they designate it with a "dismal prognosis" and suggest a 2-Year Survival rate of only 5%.
Well, they can forget that garbage, because I am already a year in and feeling pretty good considering. I am also, on average, 35 years younger than the typical patient who develops this specific disease, so I am definitely stronger physically and have more to live for. So there.
I know you have all been curious about the results from my latest CT. I actually got the results on Thursday afternoon, but they weren't what we had hoped, so Tim and I made the executive decision to keep them to ourselves until after the weekend in an effort to enjoy, and let our friends and family enjoy Thanksgiving. (Sorry) So, after work on Thursday, Tim and I popped into Moore's to buy him some new ties and we were having a hoot. Until my phone rang. It was Dr. Sami, my Saskatoon Oncologist and he didn't sound like he had happy news. As you may remember, my Chemo treatments have involved a cocktail called FOLFOX, which includes Leucovorin, 5-FU and Oxaliplatin as well as an additional medication called Avastin. Beacause of the Oxaliplatin, I began to experience some very serious side effects, specifically hand and foot neuropathy, which basically means the nerves in my hands and feet were being damaged to the point of an inability to do up my own buttons or wear heels of any kind due to a lack of feeling. This can be quite dangerous in one's everyday life, making one more likely to fall and get hurt or injure one's hands, increasing the risk of infection. It can also become permanent after a certain point. As a result, my oncologist thought it best to take a break from the Oxaliplatin 3 months ago. Now up to that point, my tumors had successfully shrunk at each CT during the first 6 months. Unfortunately, in the past 3 months, they have grown quite aggressively, and are now back to the approximate size that they were when we started this process. Sigh. I cannot tell a lie, I was incredibly upset Thursday and Friday, but thanks to a mini-meltdown in the truck outside of Moore's, an incredibly supportive Tim, a few good cries and a last minute prescription of Ativan, I was able to get perspective and put my head back in the game by Saturday.
The good news is that this has lit a fire under our asses to get back into a more healthy diet and lifestyle now that I have gained some weight. We have also been looking into some other treatments in the States and Mexico and have been lucky enough that the latest news has reignited the passion of some of my very good friends (thanks Chantelle, Nance, Mar, Keats, Shawna and if I know her, Michelle) to do their own research. I have received some amazing phone calls and messages from friends and family near and far - thank you so much for your prayers and well wishes.
I can once again say "BRING IT ON!" and mean it. Thank you.
Hugs to all.
B~~
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| Gobble-Gobble! |
I'm not sure if I have ever really explained the extent of my illness on the blog. Sometimes I worry that giving it too much airtime or actually putting it down in words will make it real, but let's be honest, S**T just got real again in a very big way so I think now is a good time as any to describe my diagnosis and prognosis. As you know, my primary tumor spread through my lymphatic system and into my liver before it was caught. This is a result of the fact that small bowel cancer a) is so rare and b) exhibits very non-specific symptoms, often making it very difficult to diagnose in the early stages. So, my diagnosis is "Stage IV Metastatic Duodenal Adenocarcinoma." According to the oncologist and surgeons it is not curable, BUT the hope is to treat it chronically like any other chronic disease. What that means for me we don't really know. If you were to look up this type of canser on-line, you would see that they designate it with a "dismal prognosis" and suggest a 2-Year Survival rate of only 5%.
Well, they can forget that garbage, because I am already a year in and feeling pretty good considering. I am also, on average, 35 years younger than the typical patient who develops this specific disease, so I am definitely stronger physically and have more to live for. So there.
I know you have all been curious about the results from my latest CT. I actually got the results on Thursday afternoon, but they weren't what we had hoped, so Tim and I made the executive decision to keep them to ourselves until after the weekend in an effort to enjoy, and let our friends and family enjoy Thanksgiving. (Sorry) So, after work on Thursday, Tim and I popped into Moore's to buy him some new ties and we were having a hoot. Until my phone rang. It was Dr. Sami, my Saskatoon Oncologist and he didn't sound like he had happy news. As you may remember, my Chemo treatments have involved a cocktail called FOLFOX, which includes Leucovorin, 5-FU and Oxaliplatin as well as an additional medication called Avastin. Beacause of the Oxaliplatin, I began to experience some very serious side effects, specifically hand and foot neuropathy, which basically means the nerves in my hands and feet were being damaged to the point of an inability to do up my own buttons or wear heels of any kind due to a lack of feeling. This can be quite dangerous in one's everyday life, making one more likely to fall and get hurt or injure one's hands, increasing the risk of infection. It can also become permanent after a certain point. As a result, my oncologist thought it best to take a break from the Oxaliplatin 3 months ago. Now up to that point, my tumors had successfully shrunk at each CT during the first 6 months. Unfortunately, in the past 3 months, they have grown quite aggressively, and are now back to the approximate size that they were when we started this process. Sigh. I cannot tell a lie, I was incredibly upset Thursday and Friday, but thanks to a mini-meltdown in the truck outside of Moore's, an incredibly supportive Tim, a few good cries and a last minute prescription of Ativan, I was able to get perspective and put my head back in the game by Saturday.
The good news is that this has lit a fire under our asses to get back into a more healthy diet and lifestyle now that I have gained some weight. We have also been looking into some other treatments in the States and Mexico and have been lucky enough that the latest news has reignited the passion of some of my very good friends (thanks Chantelle, Nance, Mar, Keats, Shawna and if I know her, Michelle) to do their own research. I have received some amazing phone calls and messages from friends and family near and far - thank you so much for your prayers and well wishes.
I can once again say "BRING IT ON!" and mean it. Thank you.
Hugs to all.
B~~
Oh, Jeeeez ... F'in Cancer already!!
ReplyDeleteAnd now I will banish all negative thoughts and, right along with you, Barb, I'll BELIEVE!!!
Keep on believing! Isn't that a lyric? If it is, it's a good one.
Hugs!
Heather