Well, we should be used to the trajectory that this cancer has forced us onto over the last eight months, but we aren't.
Before the gastroscope yesterday, we had two options, one palatable, one not so. Guess which one came up? That's right- the duodenal bypass (as opposed to the resection that we'd been hoping for). So tomorrow afternoon at 2pm, instead of voting for the 27th time ("vote early and often") I'll be lying on the dissecting table being carved up by a surgeon celebrating his 40th birthday and watching the clock to make sure he's home for the cocktail party at 7pm! (tongue is firmly in cheek about the clockwatching thing, of course).
The reason they can't do the resection is that apparently the cancer is heading north up the duodenum, and has involved the bile duct. That's a bugger. There doesn't seem to be any good reason why the cancer should be suddenly so active and aggressive: its just the unpredictable nature of the beast.
Things are a bit flat here in room 339 (phone number 6222 6839) at the moment, but I will try to update the blog between now and the operation. Trust me, I'd rather be out there voting!!
Friday 23 November 2007
Wednesday 21 November 2007
Things have gone off the rails a bit.
There's a bit to get through, so bear with me, please.
The results of the PET scan and the CT scans at the end of the chemo were pretty good. If you read through these posts, you'd probably come to the conclusion that I expected something that looked a lot like a cure - that is, the cancer beaten, and skulking off with its nasty little tail between its legs. When the oncologist told us that the CT scan indicated that the lymph nodes were clear, but the PET scan showed that the primary site was (only) severely degraded, we were both disappointed, although Paul told us that this was a very good result. This result meant that I would have to have four-monthly checkups, and when the cancer re-appeared, we would deal with it as best we could.
So far so good, although not as good as we'd hoped.
Then about three weeks ago, I started to have difficulty keeping food down again. Bugger!! So I've been in hospital for the last ten days while the old body has been re-hydrated, various tests are done, and results argued about. But in a nutshell, it appears that the cancer is back (or possibly never went away). It has invaded the stent put in nearly 6 months ago, and appears to marching north along the duodenum. How this was missed on the scans is a matter of some conjecture, but that's really here nor there.
The result is that I will need surgery in the next week or so, depending on the surgeon's NZ fishing trip! It will either be a bypass of the duodenum, or if the cancer hasn't advanced too far towards the bile duct, a resection of the duodenum removing the major site of the cancer. The second option is by far the preferred, although its beginning to look a little distant over the past couple of days. If the resection happens, I'm back to regular checks and handle things as they arise. If its the bypass, then things aren't quite that positive. Either way, at least a couple of weeks in hospital.
I will have another gastroscope on Friday (23rd Nov) to see how far north the cancer has advanced, and therefore how likely the resection is. In the meantime, I'm kicking my heels in a small but private room, gradually rusting up. By that I mean that I'm getting so little exercise that my body is starting to hurt in all sorts of places - its letting me down. The most exercise I get is a couple of laps around the ward. And this won't change until the doctors have a Plan in place. The Plan being, what surgery, and when. Then I can go home and wait. But there's more!!
We sold our house just on a month ago, and settle next Tuesday. So these last two weeks, while I've been resting in hospital Gaye has been readying us for the move to Brisbane. We'll be packed on Thursday, uplifted on Friday, cleaned on Monday, and outa there on Tuesday. Brisbane is still on track, but now the timing has to be a little doubtful because of the surgery. Originally, we had planned to leave Canberra around 20 December - for good. Let's see how it goes.
I have to say as a post script that I'm a bit embarrassed by the way all this has turned out. I haven't re-read the Blog recently, but I do remember that its relentlessly positive and full of good news. And somehow, its all gone skew-whiff.
Now that I have my modem working, I'll try to keep those of you who are still interested up to date.
The results of the PET scan and the CT scans at the end of the chemo were pretty good. If you read through these posts, you'd probably come to the conclusion that I expected something that looked a lot like a cure - that is, the cancer beaten, and skulking off with its nasty little tail between its legs. When the oncologist told us that the CT scan indicated that the lymph nodes were clear, but the PET scan showed that the primary site was (only) severely degraded, we were both disappointed, although Paul told us that this was a very good result. This result meant that I would have to have four-monthly checkups, and when the cancer re-appeared, we would deal with it as best we could.
So far so good, although not as good as we'd hoped.
Then about three weeks ago, I started to have difficulty keeping food down again. Bugger!! So I've been in hospital for the last ten days while the old body has been re-hydrated, various tests are done, and results argued about. But in a nutshell, it appears that the cancer is back (or possibly never went away). It has invaded the stent put in nearly 6 months ago, and appears to marching north along the duodenum. How this was missed on the scans is a matter of some conjecture, but that's really here nor there.
The result is that I will need surgery in the next week or so, depending on the surgeon's NZ fishing trip! It will either be a bypass of the duodenum, or if the cancer hasn't advanced too far towards the bile duct, a resection of the duodenum removing the major site of the cancer. The second option is by far the preferred, although its beginning to look a little distant over the past couple of days. If the resection happens, I'm back to regular checks and handle things as they arise. If its the bypass, then things aren't quite that positive. Either way, at least a couple of weeks in hospital.
I will have another gastroscope on Friday (23rd Nov) to see how far north the cancer has advanced, and therefore how likely the resection is. In the meantime, I'm kicking my heels in a small but private room, gradually rusting up. By that I mean that I'm getting so little exercise that my body is starting to hurt in all sorts of places - its letting me down. The most exercise I get is a couple of laps around the ward. And this won't change until the doctors have a Plan in place. The Plan being, what surgery, and when. Then I can go home and wait. But there's more!!
We sold our house just on a month ago, and settle next Tuesday. So these last two weeks, while I've been resting in hospital Gaye has been readying us for the move to Brisbane. We'll be packed on Thursday, uplifted on Friday, cleaned on Monday, and outa there on Tuesday. Brisbane is still on track, but now the timing has to be a little doubtful because of the surgery. Originally, we had planned to leave Canberra around 20 December - for good. Let's see how it goes.
I have to say as a post script that I'm a bit embarrassed by the way all this has turned out. I haven't re-read the Blog recently, but I do remember that its relentlessly positive and full of good news. And somehow, its all gone skew-whiff.
Now that I have my modem working, I'll try to keep those of you who are still interested up to date.
Sunday 4 November 2007
Second to last post - probably
Down to Sydney (Liverpool, actually) for the PET Scan on Friday. As usual, we drove, against the advice of the technicians at the nuclear medicine facility, who say not to. When I asked them why so time ago, they told me that driving set up tension in the shoulders and neck which could be misinterpreted by the scanner, but that an hour or so of relaxation between scan and driving should take care of that. No more discussion needed, really - driving took place, as did relaxation!
The process was as mildly unpleasant as last time, tinged with the apprehension around the results: last time we knew that I had cancer, this time we need it to say that I don't! The whole process takes around 2 - 2.5 hours: fifteen minutes being prepared (under the space blanket) and ten minutes being injected, an hour for the radio isotope to circulate around the body, 25 minutes for the scan itself, then at least half an hour twiddling the thumbs waiting for the pictures to be validated. Then of course the wait for the results to be given to me by the oncologist, which will be next Friday!
This last wait is very wearing - I am apprehensive about the results, although on balance I reckon that we're ahead of the game. I just don't trust cancer: its an evil, invasive, tricky little bastard of a disease, which seems to go away, then comes back to haunt one. I can't wait to die of old age!!!
More next week.
The process was as mildly unpleasant as last time, tinged with the apprehension around the results: last time we knew that I had cancer, this time we need it to say that I don't! The whole process takes around 2 - 2.5 hours: fifteen minutes being prepared (under the space blanket) and ten minutes being injected, an hour for the radio isotope to circulate around the body, 25 minutes for the scan itself, then at least half an hour twiddling the thumbs waiting for the pictures to be validated. Then of course the wait for the results to be given to me by the oncologist, which will be next Friday!
This last wait is very wearing - I am apprehensive about the results, although on balance I reckon that we're ahead of the game. I just don't trust cancer: its an evil, invasive, tricky little bastard of a disease, which seems to go away, then comes back to haunt one. I can't wait to die of old age!!!
More next week.
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