We knew our morning would be long at the cancer treatment center, so we needed things to occupy our time and minds. We packed our bag with activities for both of us. Magazines and a note book for Jason, and the Twilight book for me.
I also made sure there was a bag in the car for Jason...just in case he needed it on the way home.
After kissing our daughter Julia goodbye, we headed off for the unknown.
When we arrived at the center, Jason checked in and was quickly called back for his blood test. I followed him around as we started to learn this new routine together. The visit with the doctor followed the blood test. We were able to ask any last minute questions while he confirmed our plan of treatment and showed us to our chemo room.
Ironically, a photog from KWWL was there at the center in the room next door shooting a health plus story for Tara Thomas. The rolling cameras, were at least an occasional distraction through the beginning of his treatment.
An oncologist nurse named Brenda, knocked on our door and showed Jason all his medicines he'd be getting that day. It looked like quite the cocktail of syringes and saline bags. She moved his shirt to access his port for the chemo and got him all hooked up. The first injection would be a test to make sure he didn't have an allergic reaction to the "B" of ABVD. The test went well, and we moved onto the other drugs.
After two and a half hours of Jason sitting in his chemo chair, we were free to leave. Jason was still feeling pretty good. He handed me the keys as we left the treatment center.
As we drove home, I felt as though I had a newborn in the car. I drove a little slower, and was easier on the brake. I tried to keep the ride as smooth as possible so Jason wouldn't get nauseous from my driving. After a long 5 minutes...we were home.
1 chemo down, 7 to go.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Chemo: Preparing for the unknown
When we got home from visiting the Mayo Clinic, I started to panic. Chemo was going to start in the morning, and we hadn't even had a chance to prepare for it.
We had loads of papers to read about side effects and risks, we needed to pay attention to what Jason would eat that night and morning, and figure out what he should even wear for the first treatment.
I don't know if anyone ever feels ready for chemo to start, but I felt very unprepared.
The doctors weren't able to help us very much either as far as what to expect for the chemo day...so we did our best and stuck to bland food and comfortable clothes.
We had loads of papers to read about side effects and risks, we needed to pay attention to what Jason would eat that night and morning, and figure out what he should even wear for the first treatment.
I don't know if anyone ever feels ready for chemo to start, but I felt very unprepared.
The doctors weren't able to help us very much either as far as what to expect for the chemo day...so we did our best and stuck to bland food and comfortable clothes.
Cancer vs. Pregnancy
I've often told Jason how much cancer is like having a baby. Here's a look at the similarities:
| You find out you have cancer -You tell your family -You change your diet -You stay away from sick people -You're tired -You don't feel well -people are always looking at you and telling you how good/bad you look -You don't know what to expect -Your spouse is worried about you -You get poked and prodded a lot -Your at the doctor several times a month -Everyone gives you advice about what to do -You hope everything goes well -After several months you hopefully rid your body of the cancer | You find out your pregnant |
The list of similarities can go on and on...
Mayo: Airport Terminal or Clinic?
Visiting the Mayo Clinic is an interesting experience. Jason and I recieved a welcome letter in the mail with a map and directions on how to get there. It sort of felt like preparing to go to college. Lots of people had good things to say about the clinic, so in a weird sort of way we were looking forward to going.
When we arrived, it was mid-afternoon. The clinic was really hopping. The ideal parking ramp was full, so we had to walk a few blocks.
When we stepped off the elevator I saw a waiting room like I had never imagined. It seriously looked like an airport terminal. There were hundreds of chairs in this massive waiting room. The doors were lettered like airport gates, and there were receptionists at the front of each "gate." Names were called ovver the intercom.
Jason pulled out his confirmation letter and we headed toward the desk to "check in." After a few minutes, Jason was called to our gate, and escorted into a waiting room.
We met the doctor, who confirmed that Jason's treatment plan of 8 chemos of "ABVD" were the correct route to follow. He agreed that chemo should begin the next day.
With this confirmation in hand, we left the clinic of all clinics and headed home.
When we arrived, it was mid-afternoon. The clinic was really hopping. The ideal parking ramp was full, so we had to walk a few blocks.
When we stepped off the elevator I saw a waiting room like I had never imagined. It seriously looked like an airport terminal. There were hundreds of chairs in this massive waiting room. The doors were lettered like airport gates, and there were receptionists at the front of each "gate." Names were called ovver the intercom.
Jason pulled out his confirmation letter and we headed toward the desk to "check in." After a few minutes, Jason was called to our gate, and escorted into a waiting room.
We met the doctor, who confirmed that Jason's treatment plan of 8 chemos of "ABVD" were the correct route to follow. He agreed that chemo should begin the next day.
With this confirmation in hand, we left the clinic of all clinics and headed home.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Going in for an implant
Jason jokes as if he's been abducted by aliens. If you saw what he had to have done, you might get the joke too.
In helping get Jason and I ready for this chemo therapy, the nurse explained the side effects of the medications. One of the four drugs can give the feeling of severe burning the entire time it's administered. To avoid the pain, a power port can be installed right above his collar bone.
The simple procedure would allow chemo to go directly into on of his big veins, so he wouldn't feel the burning sensation in his arm. We agreed with the nurse that this was the best solution and scheduled the out-patient surgery.
Jason was put out completely for the surgery. After sitting in the waiting room for a half hour they brought us to a recovery room, where Jason was wheeled back in. His whole family was in the room, so it was quite crowded as he came to. It was a relief to see that he was okay after his surgery.
Since the drugs from the surgery were still wearing off, Jason kept on repeating himself. It was cute that he was genuinely concerned about how it went over and over again. As well as kept telling us what a nice nap he had just had.
Jason will keep this port for at least a year. It's fully hidden from view. All you can see is the bump on his skin.
Waiting rooms = waiting = finding a new hobby
It didn't take long for me to realize that Jason and I would be doing a lot of waiting. To be honest I'm not a very patient person. I always like to get moving to the next thing. So thanks to the help of my co-workers I got started on the ever popular Twilight Series.
The 400+ page book seemed intimidating at first. I can't even remember the last time I had read a book, let alone a series of four books...but I figured with all the waiting, I'd have the time.
Not only did the book help the waiting time feel shorter, they also gave my mind an escape from the stress and onto something other than having to think about cancer.
The 400+ page book seemed intimidating at first. I can't even remember the last time I had read a book, let alone a series of four books...but I figured with all the waiting, I'd have the time.
Not only did the book help the waiting time feel shorter, they also gave my mind an escape from the stress and onto something other than having to think about cancer.
The start of our Summer Camp
Walking into the Covenant Cancer Treatment Center was surreal. It wasn't the first time I had been there. Nearly two decades before, I walked into that center to be with my Grandma as she got chemo for Lung Cancer.
After checking in, we sat in the waiting room. Looking around, I could tell we weren't in Cancer's main demographic. Everyone else in the room was much older. Many were in wheel chairs, had canes and oxygen. It felt as though we didn't belong. But sitting there I started to feel grateful.
You see, it was easy to see that health did not come easy to many of the people in the waiting room. Yet they hadn't given up. They continued to get their treatments week after week, no matter how much it took out of them. They had faith that the treatment they endured would help them live a longer, and hopefully healthier life.
At last Jason's name was called and we went to the patient area, where we waited in a private room. Dr. Masri came in and looked at the CT scan. He described the cancer as he moved through slices of Jason's body. Looking at the cancer, he said it looked like the cancer was contained, but a PETscan and Bone Marrow Biopsy would be required to determine the Stage of the cancer.
Masri described that treatement would most likely be eight chemo treatments spread over four months, followed by radiation. At that moment I realized that this cancer treatment center would be our Summer Camp. For in this Summer, our lives would be changed. We would meet our "camp counselor's" and have our required activities. The goal of this camp: to get cured.
After checking in, we sat in the waiting room. Looking around, I could tell we weren't in Cancer's main demographic. Everyone else in the room was much older. Many were in wheel chairs, had canes and oxygen. It felt as though we didn't belong. But sitting there I started to feel grateful.
You see, it was easy to see that health did not come easy to many of the people in the waiting room. Yet they hadn't given up. They continued to get their treatments week after week, no matter how much it took out of them. They had faith that the treatment they endured would help them live a longer, and hopefully healthier life.
At last Jason's name was called and we went to the patient area, where we waited in a private room. Dr. Masri came in and looked at the CT scan. He described the cancer as he moved through slices of Jason's body. Looking at the cancer, he said it looked like the cancer was contained, but a PETscan and Bone Marrow Biopsy would be required to determine the Stage of the cancer.
Masri described that treatement would most likely be eight chemo treatments spread over four months, followed by radiation. At that moment I realized that this cancer treatment center would be our Summer Camp. For in this Summer, our lives would be changed. We would meet our "camp counselor's" and have our required activities. The goal of this camp: to get cured.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
A shocking gasp...the kind you see in the movies
After waiting all weekend for the results of the biopsy, we had to wait all day on Monday for our appointment at the pulmonologist.
Jason's parents and grandma made the hour drive to be with us again for this life-changing appointment. We were all crowded into the exam room. The doctor came in. I felt bad for him knowing that no one wants to deliver bad news.
I think the doc was trying to build up to it gradually, however I didn't pay attention. I was only listening for one thing...what this mass was. Finally, he told us. It was Hodgkin's Lymphoma.
Those words triggered a sorrowful gasp from Jason's Grandma. Instantly again tears welled into my eyes. I had no idea what Hodgkin's was, but it sounded horrible.
Knowing that we were not well versed in medical names of diseases, the doctor explained that the mass was indeed cancer, and we would need to meet with an oncologist.
Jason's parents and grandma made the hour drive to be with us again for this life-changing appointment. We were all crowded into the exam room. The doctor came in. I felt bad for him knowing that no one wants to deliver bad news.
I think the doc was trying to build up to it gradually, however I didn't pay attention. I was only listening for one thing...what this mass was. Finally, he told us. It was Hodgkin's Lymphoma.
Those words triggered a sorrowful gasp from Jason's Grandma. Instantly again tears welled into my eyes. I had no idea what Hodgkin's was, but it sounded horrible.
Knowing that we were not well versed in medical names of diseases, the doctor explained that the mass was indeed cancer, and we would need to meet with an oncologist.
Till death do us part...what if it happens at age 28?
Ever get the feeling that life is going too good? I had a good job, a healthy daughter, a sweet and loving husband. It was easy to see that we were enjoying life, but also taking it for granted.
During the weekend while we waited for the results of the biopsy...I realized just how quickly life can change. We didn't know what the mass was, and while we were hopeful, I suddenly wondered how many days I would have left with my husband.
Every night when we tuck our daughter into bed we say night-night to all the pictures on the way by. We say nigh-night to her cousins Ava and Ella, Savannah and then as we walk down the hall say nigh-night to the picture of her with daddy. As we said nigh-night to daddy's picture tears swelled in my eyes. What if someday this was all she had was a picture to say nigh-night too. I tucked her into bed and tried to wipe the tears from my eyes.
I also started to feel guilty. Was I giving 100% to my marriage, or just giving the 50% by doing only my share. From that day, I knew to never take my life or my marriage for granted.
During the weekend while we waited for the results of the biopsy...I realized just how quickly life can change. We didn't know what the mass was, and while we were hopeful, I suddenly wondered how many days I would have left with my husband.
Every night when we tuck our daughter into bed we say night-night to all the pictures on the way by. We say nigh-night to her cousins Ava and Ella, Savannah and then as we walk down the hall say nigh-night to the picture of her with daddy. As we said nigh-night to daddy's picture tears swelled in my eyes. What if someday this was all she had was a picture to say nigh-night too. I tucked her into bed and tried to wipe the tears from my eyes.
I also started to feel guilty. Was I giving 100% to my marriage, or just giving the 50% by doing only my share. From that day, I knew to never take my life or my marriage for granted.
Checking into the hospital
I felt almost as if it were me that was going to have a biopsy that morning. My stomach was nervous and I didn't even bother to put on makeup that morning. There was no point since my face was obviously tear streaked anyway.
I just threw on some clothes and tried to be as supportive as I could. Jeff was kind enough to come over and watch Julia that morning so my mom could sit with us in the hospital room.
We took the short drive to the hospital and checked in. We waited in the room and watched time move slowly. Our Pastor Eric stopped by to pray with us and sit with us while we waited. Just a few minutes before the procedure was set to start, Jason's parents and grandma arrived. Just before they took him back, we prayed over Jason.
The nurse allowed us to follow as he was wheeled to the biopsy area. She then showed us around the CT scan area and took the time to walk us through the CT scan from the previous day explaining the size of the mass and putting it into real terms.
We were then shown the waiting area so the procedure could start. Pastor Eric and Jason's parents talking while we waited just outside the CT scan room, but to be honest, I couldn't even tell you what it was about.
A few minutes later, the procedure was over and Jason was wheeled to recovery where he was held just to make sure his lung wasn't punctured. Soon we went home and started the painful process of waiting. The results from the biopsy would be in until Monday.
I just threw on some clothes and tried to be as supportive as I could. Jeff was kind enough to come over and watch Julia that morning so my mom could sit with us in the hospital room.
We took the short drive to the hospital and checked in. We waited in the room and watched time move slowly. Our Pastor Eric stopped by to pray with us and sit with us while we waited. Just a few minutes before the procedure was set to start, Jason's parents and grandma arrived. Just before they took him back, we prayed over Jason.
The nurse allowed us to follow as he was wheeled to the biopsy area. She then showed us around the CT scan area and took the time to walk us through the CT scan from the previous day explaining the size of the mass and putting it into real terms.
We were then shown the waiting area so the procedure could start. Pastor Eric and Jason's parents talking while we waited just outside the CT scan room, but to be honest, I couldn't even tell you what it was about.
A few minutes later, the procedure was over and Jason was wheeled to recovery where he was held just to make sure his lung wasn't punctured. Soon we went home and started the painful process of waiting. The results from the biopsy would be in until Monday.
Telling family that everything isn't okay
It's one thing to know something...but to tell someone else means that it's true and not something you dreamed up. So as we went home, we first told my mom that there was a large mass in Jason's lung. Jason then had the terrible task of calling his mom. What a horrible thing to have to tell your parents that even though you seem fine, there is something really wrong.
Jason's family dropped everything to make sure they could come for his biopsy in the morning. In times of need, the worst thing to do is be alone. His family knew that, so without being asked they planned on being there for us.
Jason's family dropped everything to make sure they could come for his biopsy in the morning. In times of need, the worst thing to do is be alone. His family knew that, so without being asked they planned on being there for us.
The day our world as we knew it stopped
On May 7th I got a call that I will never forget. My husband Jason had a routine physical scheduled at 9 that morning. I got the call just shortly before noon. He was still and the doctor and was undergoing several tests.
He said the doctor did an x-ray and it didn't look good. So he sent him to the hospital for a CT scan. With worry in his voice, my husband asked if I would come home and be with him, because he had another appointment scheduled at 1 with a lung specialist.
I left work in shock. I barely could tell my manager why I was leaving and that I wouldn't probably be back for a few days. In the car, tears started to stream down my face. I tried to compose myself before walking into the house.
A few moments later we left for the hospital. Jason had to do some pulmonary tests by breathing and blowing into a machine. After he was done being tortured, we waited for the doctor to come in.
You should have seen the look on the doctors face. He looked at Jason with eyes of disbelievement. He asked Jason why got an x-ray in the first place. Jason told him it was for a cough that wasn't going away. His doctor did an x-ray just to make sure it wasn't pnemonia...and then found something that needed looked into.
The pulmonologist then told Jason that he was the image of health. Then he told us the news he could hardly believe himself, Jason had a mass the size of baseball inside his chest. What it was...well, the doctor wouldn't speculate. He said we would need a biopsy of it in the morning.
Devastated, we left the office. We didn't even want to go home. So we went to a park and prayed. We prayed that whatever it was, it could be easily healed. Then we prayed for the strength to tell our families the news.
He said the doctor did an x-ray and it didn't look good. So he sent him to the hospital for a CT scan. With worry in his voice, my husband asked if I would come home and be with him, because he had another appointment scheduled at 1 with a lung specialist.
I left work in shock. I barely could tell my manager why I was leaving and that I wouldn't probably be back for a few days. In the car, tears started to stream down my face. I tried to compose myself before walking into the house.
A few moments later we left for the hospital. Jason had to do some pulmonary tests by breathing and blowing into a machine. After he was done being tortured, we waited for the doctor to come in.
You should have seen the look on the doctors face. He looked at Jason with eyes of disbelievement. He asked Jason why got an x-ray in the first place. Jason told him it was for a cough that wasn't going away. His doctor did an x-ray just to make sure it wasn't pnemonia...and then found something that needed looked into.
The pulmonologist then told Jason that he was the image of health. Then he told us the news he could hardly believe himself, Jason had a mass the size of baseball inside his chest. What it was...well, the doctor wouldn't speculate. He said we would need a biopsy of it in the morning.
Devastated, we left the office. We didn't even want to go home. So we went to a park and prayed. We prayed that whatever it was, it could be easily healed. Then we prayed for the strength to tell our families the news.
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