Friday 10:00 a.m.
4th of July Weekend
4th Radiation Treatment
Today is a 3 day weekend so we will get a small reprieve from the grueling schedule of 3 doctor appointments, scans, blood tests, and consults a day.
Thank You God!
One less day to shrink cancer cells.
Henry had his brain CT Scan yesterday and I have to admit it has been weighing on my mind. Heavily. Like a ten ton Boeing 757.
While he was in having the scan, the tech came out to the waiting room to gently ask me to move to a different room way down the hall.
Why? What's wrong? Are they afraid I will hear something?
Some word or hint that the tumor has traveled to my husband's brain?
I keep peeking out of my long distance waiting room. I see what looks like a gurney with a body on it but it's heading in the opposite direction of the MRI Imaging room my husband is in. Whew.
I see the woman that hugged me from the very 1st Radiation treatment. She doesn't seem as upbeat today as she was on Tuesday. Her eyes seem to light up just a hint when she spots me. She slowly, painfully comes nearer.
"How are you?" I ask.
In a bare whisper she tells me her sister is coming for the Holiday weekend.
I say in response. She seems so down today.
So Dim. Unlike the glowing angel that God seemed to have sent before.
"Yes, it will be good to see her. She will have gotten back from a cruise to Alaska. I was supposed to go on that trip but Lung Cancer stopped me. I found out I had it the day after we bought the tickets."
"Oh, but you can go with her on the next trip!" I say with a lighthearted grin.
"Darlin, there will not be any more trips for me. I was just told my cancer has spread to my brain."
Not her brain. My husband is in the room down the hall getting his radiation treatment and we are waiting to get the results if this has traveled to his brain too.
Please not him. Please not HER! God WHY?
Beautiful, normal, kind people should not ever get this disease. No one should!
Send it to Al Qaeda. Bottle it and give it to baby killers not these gentle souls!
She hugs me again only today she seems so weak. She takes my face in both her hands and says "It's Gods way. I am not afraid. I'm tired. You fight. It's life. Life is Good."
Her eyes are so beautiful and she slowly walks away.
I hope I see her again. You see, I'm not a newbie today. I am beginning to feel like a veteran now. 4 days down and 36 more to go.
My husband has been gone a while. Too long.
Hmmm. A nurse comes to get me. Oh God.
The results of the Brain Scan?
I walk with her back into a long corridor. I see my husband sitting slumped low in a chair. He looks as nervous as I do. Dread.
I have decided that IF this vile cancer has spread to his brain we will need to have a talk about a whole different direction. Chemo can not KILL cancer cells in the brain, Radiation only SHRINKS them. My husband only has the ONE shot at radiation. His spinal cord is dangerously close to being fried the way it is. To add more to his head would be too much and chemo can't touch it. Why go thru ALL of the pain and torture of Radiation and chemo only to die of brain cancer in a few months anyway? Decisions.
The nurse leaves us alone together in the room and softly closes the door. The oncologist will be in shortly. All we can do is stare at each other across the room. What words can you possibly say to each other when gripped in absolute fear? The results of this test are holding our near future in the balance.
When I say go in a whole new direction... I mean to do nothing. Just let the cancer eat him alive and the tumors will suffocate him.
Death in 3 minutes but a very rough 3 minutes.
Tick tick tick. I can hear the clock on the wall. It seems as if we are suspended in time and fear. Waiting.
Footsteps outside the door. No!
Don't open the door. Stay Out! Go Away!
We can just live in this room forever. No one enter.
If the door remains closed, it will not come to us.
My heart has stopped as the doctor comes in and sits down in her swivel chair and pulls it close with it's squeaky wheels that seem so loud as they scrape along the linoleum.
She takes my husband's hand.
"Henry, How are you feeling? Any concerns?"
He can't even verbalize it. I stand up.
"What does the Brain Scan show?" I seemed to scream it. High pitched and desperate. Feral.
"Your Brain Scan shows NOTHING" she says.
"We will proceed as normal."
The sighs of relief in the room are palpable. Our eyes lock in a second of victory. It hasn't spread!
I swear to each and every one of you that has read this and uttered even a short prayer to God above that what you have done is a miracle and I am so thankful. Positivity. The notes and letters have been our lifeline. We feel you with us. We know we are not alone. Each and every one of you is with us on this journey and we welcome you. You seem to be behind us... Pushing us. Forward. Strength from You.
We Thank You!
I got the 20 years I had lost in these last worried days back today.
We are going to go out BLOW Something UP!!!!!!
Life is Good.
Tuesday we get a second opinion. The doctor we are going to see is the one that treated Lance Armstrong and he is in remission. (The cancer had spread to his brain as well but he beat it!)
Our good friend and former Indianapolis Colts Quarterback pulled some major strings and got us in to see her. The usual wait time is months not days. This same doctor successfully treated his mother with Breast Cancer.
(Do you notice a pattern here? All of these remarkable doctors are Women!) Education.