You know what they say: no news is good news? With cancer, the opposite is true, too.
We were driving to the hospital for Laura’s port surgery on Friday morning when we got a call from her oncologist’s office asking for Laura to come in to talk with the doctor after the surgery. We now have enough experience to know what those calls mean. Since Laura had just been in the hospital the previous day for a full body CT scan, we knew there was news. And news is bad news.
In short, although Laura’s only been on hormone therapy for about 7 weeks, her oncologist is concerned that her cancer is not responding and so she has recommended a change in treatment to chemotherapy starting this coming week. This has struck us pretty hard. Six weeks ago we were told by an expert breast cancer oncologist at the Dana Farber that Laura’s hormone treatment would put her cancer into remission for “a very long time”. And since Laura is just now starting to feel better after a month of pain and side effects… well, this is like a slap in the face.
The details are that the number of small “bony metastases” has increased, the fluid around her lungs (pleural effusion) is larger and clearly evident on both sides, and spots were found on her ovaries (which was new because that region hadn’t been scanned before). In truth, the progression is actually pretty modest. Nevertheless, her oncologist wanted to see things either stay the same or get better — not get worse. There were good results, too. Laura’s major organs — her brain, lungs, and liver — are all cancer free.
We left the office on Friday afternoon shell shocked, but also full of questions, doubts, skepticism, and disbelief. Some of that has subsided as I’ve had a chance to do more reading about treatment options. Laura’s bitter that the doctor ruined her weekend. We still have questions and we’ll need to decide if we should get additional opinions: the main issue being whether all hormone therapy options have been adequately considered. So the next treatment decision is not certain yet, but I’ll post more about this in the next few days.
PS. The port surgery went fine. Laura now has a little bump in front of her left shoulder where a pin prick is all it takes to access a major vein. Right now she’s been resting a lot and worrying about the next step. Lily is literally a happy camper — spending an overnight with a friend in Northampton. This evening Naomi pulled on her red “Cowboy Small” boots, “strummed” my guitar, and sang Home On The Range for us about seven times.
Scan report. Change of course.
Sat, Sep 29th, 2007 11:13pm by dkulp
Tags: Uncategorized
4 responses so far ↓
1 Norma Orlansky // Sep 30, 2007 at 12:50 pm
well, this is not the news we were hoping to hear,especially since Laura was beginning to feel better. Just know that we keep you in our thoughts and prayers daily.
Aunt Norma Ann
2 Ralph // Sep 30, 2007 at 2:16 pm
Still thinking of you,Laura. Thank you for the update. You’re constantly in our thoughts.
Ralph
3 Karen Segall // Oct 1, 2007 at 8:34 am
I’ve never met you or Laura; I’m good friends of John and Nicole Partridge, who forwarded me your blog. I wanted to let you know that 5 years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer. At the time, my youngest child was still a baby and that first year was, you know, very hard for all of us. My hope for Laura’s full recovery is with you. As is my offer to help in any way I can as you and she go through treatment and recovery. If I can do it, so can she!
4 Aaron Walton // Oct 1, 2007 at 2:36 pm
Todd Davidson forwarded me the sad, terrifying news about your cancer diagnosis. Not having communicated with you in fifteen years, I debated whether or not you’d appreciate a word from me now. I hope I guessed right. You were a true friend to me back in the day, Laura, and though we haven’t spoken, I’ve often thought of you fondly. Learning of this bitch of a diagnosis came as a blow even to me, so I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like for you. Please know that you are in my thoughts.
P.S. I imagine that you guys are fairly swamped with medical advice and probably have been doing more than a little study on your own, but I’d like you to know that I’m now an infectious diseases physician, and if I can ever be of any help digging through the avalanche of jargon or in any other way, for that matter, just fire me an email.
Heck, just fire me an email for no reason at all.