Showing posts with label pet scan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pet scan. Show all posts

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Which one first?

Half of you would like the good news first. I prefer to end on the better note: My own version of the spoonful of sugar.

The bad news first.

While we battle cancer here, at home another family member battles at nearly the same place. Mary Jo is my stepmother. Her Mother's Day news was not as wonderful as we would have hoped. Her PET scan and release from the hospital yesterday was difficult.

After a long bout with breast cancer, Mary Jo's PET revealed the cancer has metastasized to all of her major organs and her bones. She was released into hospice care.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch.

Russell will be the topic of conversation for the hospice caregivers and the oncologists. Russell has reached the point where the discussion is of a pain pump: Twenty four hour continuous release morphine. The mets delusions now get him out of bed to take care of things which are only real inside his head.

Now for the good news.

I will be posting a picture at the conclusion of Momma and Poppa's stay of yours truly climbing a tree, provided Momma used my camera properly.

Yesterday, for my Mother's Day gift, we harvested oak trees and bluebonnets for my yard from the game preserve across the street from my house. We also harvested a specific breed of pine tree which makes giant cones and has such long needles its branches have the look of pompoms. These will be Momma's take home gift from South Carolina.

Buds which arrived on Friday in anticipation of Mother's Day pushed out double-bearded blue irises by Saturday. Sunday brought Asiatic lilies opened wide like a sailor's sunrise.

I am not yet a grandmother, you see, that would not have been a grand Mother's Day present. My angel still has 2.5 weeks to go. Do you think she will make it? What if I told you that picture was more than a month old? Did that change your answer?

Even though the pop-up timer is fully extended (her navel), Caden needs to stay put at least another week. We would be happiest with two.

Chin up!
Ann Marie

Visit Virginia's Dream. International shipping available on request.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

What a month can mean!

January brought a PET scan to see the cancer activity in Russell's body.

Excuse me, I needed a break after that last sentence. The results were what most people commonly refer to as "devastating".

The four spots of mesothelioma had grown together and were encasing 80% of his right lung. This is a point from which there is no return. The pleura thickening was at nearly an inch. His right lung was at less than 30% capacity.

The adenocarinoma (frequently hereinafter called "the tumor") has destroyed another rib and was headed for a third in short order. This meant the cancer was leeching into the bone marrow. Another point from which there is no return.

Russell made the choice to undertake chemotherapy. He asked the doctor, "Are we talking months or years?"

With pain in his expression, our friend had to reply, "Months are closer." The tacit portion of that sentence was "to the weeks which are the appropriate answer to the question".

Immediately, we schedule the surgery to insert a port into his chest. Arm veins are not prepared for large amounts of poison. Routine outpatient surgery...oh, yeah, right.

Even this did not go as expected. He lack of oxygen provided recovery complications. His will prevailed. He kept his eye on the prize: A trip to New York to see his sister and his children.

Less than 48 hours later, I drove him to North Carolina to face his fear of flying. Practicing better living through pharmacology, he made the flight to NY. When he called me from the car on his way to his sister's home, he sounded like a little boy with a new toy. Family is the best holistic medicine.

The whole week was filled with family dinners and a little dining out. Loads of telephone calls and a lot of air cleared. Eyes wide open, he told me, "I hate that I have only come home to say, "Goodbye."

Let the chastising begin. "No, you are there to enjoy your family and make wonderful memories. Enjoy yourself or when you come home, I will beat you until I feel better." Knowing full well what my stress level was, he knew the beating would likely not be survivable, even for a healthy boxer.

As much fun as he had, he was glad to be home. I had stipulated he be home for my birthday. (Refer to last post for the reason why.)

Next, we will talk about how I spent the time he was in NY.

Until then,
Ann Marie

Visit Virginia's Dream. International shipping available on request.