I went to see Dr. Kooby for a follow-up visit this past Friday, and he says I look “fantastic” (that is a direct quote!). He said my abdomen looks/feels normal and he’s pleased with the way the incision is healing. That was a great relief. He encouraged me to continue to be more active.
What I’m not looking forward to is chemotherapy, but I’ve decided to go through with it. Danny and I met with an oncologist, Dr. Kauh, a few weeks ago. Dr. Kauh basically left the decision to me, but when I asked Dr. Kooby his opinion, he said he would recommend that I go through with it as a preventive measure. And I believe he’s right. If this is a way to ensure I’m here for a long, long time, I will do it, especially when I have Danny and Gabriel to consider.
My chemo treatments will start on November 24. I will have to go once a week for three weeks, then I’ll have a week off. That’s considered one “cycle”, and I have to go through six cycles. They tell me that this type of chemo isn’t too taxing and I should not lose my hair. That was extremely welcome news! Although a co-worker of mine might be disappointed. Photography is his hobby, and he told me that he always wanted to photograph a bald woman. I told him if I lost my hair, he could take pictures of me, but I would get final say-so in what got posted on his website!
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
The Prometheus Stage
It took awhile for me to feel like writing again, but it’s been almost four weeks since my surgery, so I thought I’d write another post. I like thinking of my recovery as “The Prometheus Stage”.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prometheus
Why, you may ask? Certainly not because I’m a goddess or immortal. Before I had surgery, Dr. Kooby told me that although he would have to remove about 70% of my liver, it would grow back to 90% of its capacity within about two months after surgery. I was dumbfounded. He then asked me, “Do you know the story of Prometheus?”
Still a bit confused, I asked, “The one from Greek mythology? The one who brought fire to Earth?”
“He stole the fire from the gods,” Dr. Kooby said. “And as punishment, he was chained to a rock…”
“… and the eagle would pick out his liver,” I said, finally remembering the story.
“Yes, and every day it grew back,” he finished. “I’m not sure how much the ancient Greeks actually knew about the liver growing back, but it does regenerate.”
Don’t you think that “the Prometheus stage” sounds much better than “recovery period”? I am now at the stage where my liver is growing back. Everyone I tell about this is amazed, as am I. Another interesting fact is that although it will grow back to about 90% of its original capacity, it will be a different size and shape. It should also grow more toward the center of my body, as opposed to the right side, as almost all of the right lobe is gone. Is that wicked or what?
The Prometheus stage is going well. Every day I am getting better. I can get around pretty well by myself, I walk a bit further every day, and I can now do stuff like reach overhead and blow dry my hair by myself. I even loaded the dishwasher last night! However, I’m still very limited in my range of movement. Getting in and out of a car is extremely uncomfortable. The hardest part about this whole experience is that I can’t pick Gabriel up, so I can’t do all the mommy stuff I did before I had surgery. I know this too shall pass, and I’ll be able to pick him up again in a few weeks, but it is unbelievably difficult not to be able to pick him up when he cries or take him out of his crib. Whenever I whine to Danny about how hard this is on me, he says, “Well, honey, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not planning on touching this kid for weeks after you’re able to pick him up!”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prometheus
Why, you may ask? Certainly not because I’m a goddess or immortal. Before I had surgery, Dr. Kooby told me that although he would have to remove about 70% of my liver, it would grow back to 90% of its capacity within about two months after surgery. I was dumbfounded. He then asked me, “Do you know the story of Prometheus?”
Still a bit confused, I asked, “The one from Greek mythology? The one who brought fire to Earth?”
“He stole the fire from the gods,” Dr. Kooby said. “And as punishment, he was chained to a rock…”
“… and the eagle would pick out his liver,” I said, finally remembering the story.
“Yes, and every day it grew back,” he finished. “I’m not sure how much the ancient Greeks actually knew about the liver growing back, but it does regenerate.”
Don’t you think that “the Prometheus stage” sounds much better than “recovery period”? I am now at the stage where my liver is growing back. Everyone I tell about this is amazed, as am I. Another interesting fact is that although it will grow back to about 90% of its original capacity, it will be a different size and shape. It should also grow more toward the center of my body, as opposed to the right side, as almost all of the right lobe is gone. Is that wicked or what?
The Prometheus stage is going well. Every day I am getting better. I can get around pretty well by myself, I walk a bit further every day, and I can now do stuff like reach overhead and blow dry my hair by myself. I even loaded the dishwasher last night! However, I’m still very limited in my range of movement. Getting in and out of a car is extremely uncomfortable. The hardest part about this whole experience is that I can’t pick Gabriel up, so I can’t do all the mommy stuff I did before I had surgery. I know this too shall pass, and I’ll be able to pick him up again in a few weeks, but it is unbelievably difficult not to be able to pick him up when he cries or take him out of his crib. Whenever I whine to Danny about how hard this is on me, he says, “Well, honey, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not planning on touching this kid for weeks after you’re able to pick him up!”
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
'Twas the Night Before Surgery
Sadly, I don't have anything witty or entertaining to say tonight. I just want to say thank you to all of you who have called me, emailed me, lit candles for me, prayed for me (and my family), sent me cards, and those who have offered to visit me and bring us meals. One of my friends in Europe told me "there are candles burning all over Germany" for me. What a lovely mental picture that is! I am very, very blessed to have all of you in my life.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Pre-Op Discussion
I had my pre-op visit with Dr. Kooby today. He is such a kind man, and he has small children too, so he understands that my primary motivation is to watch Gabriel grow up. I have to be at the hospital at 6:30A on Thursday, and my surgery is scheduled to start around 8:15A. It will last about 3 hours. I will be in ICU that day, and he expects I'll be able to move to a regular room the next day (Friday). I will be in the hospital about a week. I'm very nervous, and scared, but the way I look at it is, after this surgery I won't have cancer anymore. All of this is a small price to pay to grow old with Danny and watch our son graduate from college.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
A Ribbon of My Own and Yummy Cancer Research
Today, I was visited by the branch manager for the temp agency we use at work, and she brought me chocolate cookies with pink M&Ms in them. She said they were the “breast cancer awareness” cookies. I silently lamented the fact that I don’t have one of those sexy, glamorous cancers that get all the publicity. Why don’t I get a cutesy pink ribbon or a 2-day walk? What about us poor schmucks with liver cancer? Actually, if you want to be absolutely correct, I have “primary cancer of the liver”. Liver cancer is associated with other diseases of the liver.
But I digress…
So I look online for ribbons and their colors, and I find “The Jade Ribbon Campaign” in the fight against hepatitis B and liver cancer. Cool! Jade is a cool color! Then I check out the link, and it’s specifically a program through Stanford for Asian Americans who are apparently prone to getting this. There is actually an organization called the “Asian Liver Center” who is using the Jade Ribbon as their symbol. Jeez! Can’t I get a break here??
http://liver.stanford.edu/
So I come home and tell my sad story to Danny, who of course tells me I’m crazy (although he laughs). I tell him I worry about the color my ribbon might have. An icky brown color like the liver? No, Danny says, it should be a beautiful deep red color, since the liver serves as a filter for the blood. So I thought of a wine color. And red wine is supposed to be good for the liver! (in moderation, of course) I also thought of a color in the brown family, like tan or copper. I imagined organizing a fundraising walk for liver cancer, where we would serve paté at the rest stops. Or perhaps fava beans and a nice Chianti. (hope you got the “Silence of the Lambs” reference there)
So until the time where liver cancer becomes widely-publicized and glamorous, here is a yummy way I found to raise money for cancer research. These very nice people are cancer survivors and donate part of their profits to cancer research. And the cookies are delicious. I bought the citrus ginger snaps and loved them! Please check them out, and if you’re in the mood for the best ginger snaps you’ll ever taste, this is definitely the place to order from.
http://www.susansnaps.com/
And hey, does anyone want to design me a damn ribbon? :-)
But I digress…
So I look online for ribbons and their colors, and I find “The Jade Ribbon Campaign” in the fight against hepatitis B and liver cancer. Cool! Jade is a cool color! Then I check out the link, and it’s specifically a program through Stanford for Asian Americans who are apparently prone to getting this. There is actually an organization called the “Asian Liver Center” who is using the Jade Ribbon as their symbol. Jeez! Can’t I get a break here??
http://liver.stanford.edu/
So I come home and tell my sad story to Danny, who of course tells me I’m crazy (although he laughs). I tell him I worry about the color my ribbon might have. An icky brown color like the liver? No, Danny says, it should be a beautiful deep red color, since the liver serves as a filter for the blood. So I thought of a wine color. And red wine is supposed to be good for the liver! (in moderation, of course) I also thought of a color in the brown family, like tan or copper. I imagined organizing a fundraising walk for liver cancer, where we would serve paté at the rest stops. Or perhaps fava beans and a nice Chianti. (hope you got the “Silence of the Lambs” reference there)
So until the time where liver cancer becomes widely-publicized and glamorous, here is a yummy way I found to raise money for cancer research. These very nice people are cancer survivors and donate part of their profits to cancer research. And the cookies are delicious. I bought the citrus ginger snaps and loved them! Please check them out, and if you’re in the mood for the best ginger snaps you’ll ever taste, this is definitely the place to order from.
http://www.susansnaps.com/
And hey, does anyone want to design me a damn ribbon? :-)
Pre-Op
Hi, everyone.... I found out yesterday that I have to be at the hospital on Monday at 8:00A for my pre-operation testing and to meet with my doctor. I have a list of questions to ask, the first one being, "Can I be sedated as soon as I'm admitted to the hospital?" I also found out that on the day of my surgery, I have to be at the hospital at 6:00A. Ick. Anyway, I'm sure I'll have lots to write about on Monday.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Intro
Well, if you're reading this, you already know my news. On August 11, I found out that I have a cancerous tumor on my liver. To make a long story short, I went to the emergency room on July 12th for an odd pain in the right side of my abdomen. Not sharp or debilitating, just dull and constant (and different). They did a CT scan which revealed something on my liver. So after doctor visits, an MRI and a biopsy, we got the news. I've since been through a PET scan, mammogram, colonoscopy, EGD, and a pelvic ultrasound. All these tests/scans have revealed no signs of cancer anywhere else. This is very encouraging news! We met with two surgical oncologists, and decided to go with Dr. Kooby at the Emory Winship Cancer Institute. My surgery will be Sept. 25, and I will probably be in the hospital a week. My recovery time after surgery will be around 6 weeks. I will get more information closer to my surgery date. We don't know yet if I'll need to go through chemotherapy. I am still feeling well, which is the odd part about this whole thing. But I consider that a good sign. I will write more when I know more!
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