Eight Words

January 2nd was the day Pam met with her oncologist to discuss her treatment plans. She left the cancer center really thinking that she would pass on chemo. It seemed that although there would be some benefit from chemotherapy, that it would be too hard to do again. Pam was charged with considering that decision carefully for a few days. That was on a Friday. By Sunday the thoughts of passing on the treatment began to subside along with any ability to sleep. For the next seven days Pam was awake. Unable to rest, unable to decide, unable to move forward. Too many times I received emails from her, sent at 2, 3 or 4 in the morning, linking me to breast cancer issues. She was researching on the internet...argh... By the end of last week though, through much prayer and some interesting and slightly mysterious connections, Pam was very close to consent.

Being Pam, she drafted a beautiful 3 page, 12 question document and put a call into Dr. Veeder. Without hesitation he asked her to come in and discuss her concerns. We sat and talked for nearly an hour after his office was closed on Monday the 12th. He was in no rush and did his best to explain things and answer questions. He confirmed most of what Pam's research yielded. Breast cancer is very common and commonly cured. About 10 percent will have a recurrence. Once you are in the 10 percent the information becomes sketchier. Studies are fewer as the variables are wide. Pam tried in a variety of ways to pin him down regarding the staging of her cancer, to compare to the results of her research. He didn't totally disagree or agree with her findings. That's OK. Of the thousands of words that were spoken that evening it was all summed up with a simple eight word sentence he produced when Pam kind of backed him against a wall so to speak. "This is your last chance for a cure."

Pam's research from the previous week had told her this, she just needed to hear it. She is in the running for a cure still and she officially decided to do everything available. If the cancer isn't stopped this time, a third recurrence will be treated entirely different (more along the lines of "making you comfortable," "prolonging," etc.). Pam actually walked out as though a weight had been lifted from her.

The fears of the effects of chemotherapy are diminished when compared to the effects of cancer cells left untouched. So she consented to have them touched, hopefully in the most destructive and violent sense. Next Wednesday the medi-port will go in. Chemo begins on Feb. 2nd (one day after Erin's birthday, that's good). One treatment per week of Taxol for 12 weeks. 4 doses of Avastin on the 1st, 6th, 9th and 12th weeks. Then radiation, then anti-estrogen treatmet. Thats the plan.

The kids have been briefed, and they aren't thrilled, but they understand their mom has to do everything she can. Their memories of chemo the first time are fading, but they are fresh enough to strike some fear. Our plans for 09 are kind of taking shape. Thanks for praying Pam/us through.

Oh, the photo. I missed my brown haired wife. She surprised me by actually changing it back last week. Last night I took a photo of her that I thought would be great, but my camera was having problems and the pic wasn't on the card. So today at lunch, desperate for a photo for this update, I asked her to step outside, into the bright sunshine, beautiful white snow and crisp 4 degrees for a photo. The sun was just in the right (wrong) spot to totally overexpose the picture. But I think it turned out better than I could have ever planned or hoped. I have to tell you, I am pretty happy about the way she looks after her first bout with cancer. Kind of makes me anxious to see how much better she'll look after the second. Hubba, hubba.