Marion was originally scheduled for the Radiation Consultation on February 2nd. On Wednesday, the office called up and said they had an appointment available for Thursday. We jumped on the opportunity to move this appointment up by about a week and get closer to eventual treatment.
The oncologist did a full exam which always makes me uncomfortable because it's usually after such a full exam that Marion starts bleeding again. I don't know why he has to fool around with the tumor and use the tools and what not when he has literally pages upon pages of reports, slides, and film. As part of the simulation process to mark the tumor, he'll be using either a MRI or CT scan. So, it's beyond me why he felt the need to dive in and take a look around when the bleeding can start anytime and she's already anemic from the loss of blood she's suffered from already.
Besides the exam, the Doctor (whose name escapes me) was generally a nice guy and seemed overwhelmingly concerned with Marion's care. He didn't talk down to either of us, and made sure we understood the process before us. He explained some of the side effects after the exam...most of which I had no idea of. Due to their graphic and disturbing nature, I won't go into them here, but suffice it to say even with the possible side effects, the good outweighs the bad.
The next step is the simulation which as I said is the process of marking the tumor out precisely so nearby healthy tissue is not damaged by the radiation process. Radiation is somewhat dangerous, but it's unfortunately a necessary evil.
Once we got home, Marion's spirits dropped a bit. I think it's all catching up with her. I think she's been in a haze just going to a from all the appointments and that it's now just sinking in. It kills me because I can look at it clinically, and I try to let her know that this is a really aggressive plan and that her Doctors are really attempting to cure her. But, it's those lingering doubts that screw around with you. There's so much that's unknown. We're not sure how her body will react to the treatments and things like that. It's just a trial and error type of thing and it's that uncertainty that plays to your fears. I really think she'll do okay...
So, we stand one step closer to the treatments. We stand on the verge of hope.
Taking a day by day journey through the diagnosis of cancer.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Treatment plans, Social Security, and musings on a long day.
Yesterday my Dad, Marion, and I went to another consultation for Marion. Basically, Dr. Christie (the main oncologist) was explaining the results to Marion to make sure she understood exactly what is going on. I'm pretty sure Dr. Christie is confident I know what's happening, but he wants to make sure Marion has a handle on it.
She does have a pretty good idea because I research things, tell her, and we discuss them. I know Marion's a lot more scared than she lets on, but I think I ease some of the burden for her. At this point, I'm making all the appointments, doing a lot of the leg work end of it. When we were at the Social Security office, she called me her Personal Assistant, and I think the title is quite fitting considering where we are at this point. When I think of all the appointments, names, plans, etc., it does get a bit overwhelming to bear. And, that's with two of us working on it. I could just imagine if one person worked on this alone.
So, after discussing the staging (Stage III B), he dropped a bit of a bomb that her lymph nodes lit up on the PET Scan, and they were a bit concerned with that. Why he didn't tell me earlier, I don't know, but I was hoping that the lymph nodes were untouched. Basically, once the nodes get infected (if that's the proper word), then it becomes more difficult to treat and easier for the cancer to spread by way of the blood. While it hasn't spread yet, the chances are greater it will later on...which I am really upset about.
However, the treatment plan that Dr. Christie has devised is an aggressive plan to cure the cancer and not control it. My biggest worry thus far was if they were just going to attempt to control it to prolong life. I wouldn't have been too happy about that. But, he assured me that it can be cured within this stage and that a concurrent radiation (external) and cisplatin based chemotherapy would be the best way to do so. The chemotherapy weakens the cancer cells allowing them to react better to the radiation. The radiation then kills the cells. After a brief break period, they will use internal radiation ( called Brachytherapy). It's a lot to wrap your head around, and there's lots of calls to make...and it makes your head spin.
Also, yesterday, we went to SS to drop off a medical release form. I thought we would just sign the form and be on our way, but since she's Stage III cancer they wanted to expedite the process and get her a SSI and Disability application in. They pretty much streamlined the process and made one trip the only trip we'd need to make.
So, it was a long, long day sitting and waiting most of the time and then having a huge amount of information thrown at you all at once when you're awakened from your slumber. There's so much going on, and more coming. But, Marion and I are going through this together, like we always have.
She does have a pretty good idea because I research things, tell her, and we discuss them. I know Marion's a lot more scared than she lets on, but I think I ease some of the burden for her. At this point, I'm making all the appointments, doing a lot of the leg work end of it. When we were at the Social Security office, she called me her Personal Assistant, and I think the title is quite fitting considering where we are at this point. When I think of all the appointments, names, plans, etc., it does get a bit overwhelming to bear. And, that's with two of us working on it. I could just imagine if one person worked on this alone.
So, after discussing the staging (Stage III B), he dropped a bit of a bomb that her lymph nodes lit up on the PET Scan, and they were a bit concerned with that. Why he didn't tell me earlier, I don't know, but I was hoping that the lymph nodes were untouched. Basically, once the nodes get infected (if that's the proper word), then it becomes more difficult to treat and easier for the cancer to spread by way of the blood. While it hasn't spread yet, the chances are greater it will later on...which I am really upset about.
However, the treatment plan that Dr. Christie has devised is an aggressive plan to cure the cancer and not control it. My biggest worry thus far was if they were just going to attempt to control it to prolong life. I wouldn't have been too happy about that. But, he assured me that it can be cured within this stage and that a concurrent radiation (external) and cisplatin based chemotherapy would be the best way to do so. The chemotherapy weakens the cancer cells allowing them to react better to the radiation. The radiation then kills the cells. After a brief break period, they will use internal radiation ( called Brachytherapy). It's a lot to wrap your head around, and there's lots of calls to make...and it makes your head spin.
Also, yesterday, we went to SS to drop off a medical release form. I thought we would just sign the form and be on our way, but since she's Stage III cancer they wanted to expedite the process and get her a SSI and Disability application in. They pretty much streamlined the process and made one trip the only trip we'd need to make.
So, it was a long, long day sitting and waiting most of the time and then having a huge amount of information thrown at you all at once when you're awakened from your slumber. There's so much going on, and more coming. But, Marion and I are going through this together, like we always have.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)