Yesterday, Faina was outfitted for TPN, intravenous feeding. She had not been able to keep food down for days and the situation was getting worrisome. She finished the first dose of chemo. Next round, November 9th.
Big event today - National Cancer Institute-National Institutes of Health. We met with Dr. Avital who is heading up a study that is a combination of surgery and chemo. He painted a none too rosy picture of Faina's prognosis, paused a bit, and, recognizing that this was a reality with which we have already grapled, continued to present the pros and cons of treatment. We are talking about buying time, months, at best. He is devoted to leading edge treatment. His work ethic, "We don't do standard." We are going to have to wait a week to hear if he will be able to treat her.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
A Rough Day
Today was exhausting. Faina began chemotherapy this morning. Two hours stretched into five. All beginnings are difficult and this is a re-start of a process we have been engaged in for over a year.
Many aspects of her health have started to change quickly. Over the last few days Faina has suddenly become unable to keep food down. To counter that, tomorrow she will have a PICC line put in and will begin to get nutrition intravenously. Since cancer cells produce a lot of water, she will be undergoing a paracentesis procedure for the second time in less than a week. On Friday, two liters of water were drained from her abdomen. Two weeks ago we were strolling down the Las Vegas Strip. Now, walking to the stop sign at the corner is a challenge.
We were in touch with Hopkins to get medical records. The people we spoke to were somewhat less than warm and fuzzy about getting this information ready for our Friday appointment at the National Cancer Institute. They will try to get the material ready was as far as they would go in making promises.
Before turning in for the night, I sent an email to Religious School families informing them of what is now going on in my life. Hitting "Send" bordered on the physically painful, a concession to a new reality.
The encouagement Faina has been getting from Dental Care Alliance has been great. The same goes for my colleagues at Beth El. We are moving forward, mostly into a thick fog of uncertainty.
Many aspects of her health have started to change quickly. Over the last few days Faina has suddenly become unable to keep food down. To counter that, tomorrow she will have a PICC line put in and will begin to get nutrition intravenously. Since cancer cells produce a lot of water, she will be undergoing a paracentesis procedure for the second time in less than a week. On Friday, two liters of water were drained from her abdomen. Two weeks ago we were strolling down the Las Vegas Strip. Now, walking to the stop sign at the corner is a challenge.
We were in touch with Hopkins to get medical records. The people we spoke to were somewhat less than warm and fuzzy about getting this information ready for our Friday appointment at the National Cancer Institute. They will try to get the material ready was as far as they would go in making promises.
Before turning in for the night, I sent an email to Religious School families informing them of what is now going on in my life. Hitting "Send" bordered on the physically painful, a concession to a new reality.
The encouagement Faina has been getting from Dental Care Alliance has been great. The same goes for my colleagues at Beth El. We are moving forward, mostly into a thick fog of uncertainty.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Shaken To The Core
Faina had checked out of the hospital on September 10, 2009. For almost a year her health was good. We took advantage of the open window catching Baltimore Symphony Orchestra concerts, many memorable restaurant meals, more than a few exceptional films, a Mediterranean cruise, visiting family in Israel, and enjoying a wedding weekend with Faina's Leningrad medical school classmates in Seattle.
In August, an MRI indicated a growth on the liver, the region that defined the original gastric cancer as stage 4. Dr. Schulick thought that it could not be cancer and advised against surgery and a biopsy. He proposed waiting a month, redoing the scan and planning based on that data. We felt that a bullet had been dodged.
After an anxious month, we received a blood test report that was "Off the Charts" for cancer. The Carbohydrate Antigen 19-9 score, which had been 21 on July 22, 2010 was now at 2619. The report read "Results cannot be interpreted as absolute evidence of the presence or absence of malignant disease." The CT scan removed all doubt, among the statements, "peritoneal carcinomatosis should be considered."
We have entered an entirely new phase. We have renewed our communication with Sloan-Kettering. We are developing a relationship with National Cancer Institute-National Institute of Health. Dr. Koutrelakos at Maryland Oncology/Hematology is once again our rabbi. Chemotherapy begins tomorrow.
Between monents of calm I reach out to two cultural icons that have been the background track of my adult life, Allen Ginsberg's poem Howl and Edward Munch's canvas Scream.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision
or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity.
In August, an MRI indicated a growth on the liver, the region that defined the original gastric cancer as stage 4. Dr. Schulick thought that it could not be cancer and advised against surgery and a biopsy. He proposed waiting a month, redoing the scan and planning based on that data. We felt that a bullet had been dodged.
After an anxious month, we received a blood test report that was "Off the Charts" for cancer. The Carbohydrate Antigen 19-9 score, which had been 21 on July 22, 2010 was now at 2619. The report read "Results cannot be interpreted as absolute evidence of the presence or absence of malignant disease." The CT scan removed all doubt, among the statements, "peritoneal carcinomatosis should be considered."
We have entered an entirely new phase. We have renewed our communication with Sloan-Kettering. We are developing a relationship with National Cancer Institute-National Institute of Health. Dr. Koutrelakos at Maryland Oncology/Hematology is once again our rabbi. Chemotherapy begins tomorrow.
Between monents of calm I reach out to two cultural icons that have been the background track of my adult life, Allen Ginsberg's poem Howl and Edward Munch's canvas Scream.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision
or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity.
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