Moving right along...

I am way behind.  Time goes by so quickly nowadays--sometimes the minutes and hours don't but you look up and August is almost over.  Football season is about to start and I will look for ways to get to Charlottesville without overburdening my family.  Then I will go anyway.

I get the feeling that many people who read this blog also read Susan's blog http://pregnantpausesandsemicolons.blogspot.com/ which is far more interesting, better written and more informative.  However, not all of you read it, so you're stuck with me for now.

To update, Susan completed her third session of chemotherapy this week.  One-fourth of the way through her scheduled sessions.  She has handled it like a trooper so far, has been back at work since July 23 and was disappointed that chemo was delayed a week on this session due to a low neutrophil count.  For those who don't know (I didn't), that's an element of white blood cells and the risk of infection is greatly increased when the count is as low as Susan's was.  The count was still low this week, but higher than last week.  As a result, she was allowed to receive chemo (sounds like being allowed to receive Communion), and got a Neulasta shot on Friday.  Amazingly, there is one thing she is doing to which I can relate.  I donated stem cells to a leukemia patient (pats self on back) three years ago and received several of these injections.  It made my hips hurt pretty bad by the third day in a row.  That said, I don't know my dosage versus hers, and mine was to overstimulate stem cell production.  They just want her counts to be normal but she is starting at a lower baseline.  It probably is a contributor to today's discomfort.

This weekend has been harder on Susan than the last two sessions.  It's difficult to say how much is due to the chemo and how much is from the Neulasta.  She is worn out--unfortunately the kids don't seem to recognize how tired she is--what's their deal?  While it means that Susan isn't as available to help out, she is around and can take care of the kids, especially Garrison, who doesn't insist on being held for hours upon hours like Brooks does.  I do not know how single parents do it, not with an infant anyway.  There has been far more pleading with my children to not make a mess, not bother Mommy, not spit up all over themselves than usual.  They don't listen.

One of the main issues and common expectations of chemo treatment is the loss of hair.  Susan's doctors told her they don't expect her to lose her hair, but it would probably thin.  Honestly, I'm not sure what that means. My hair is thinning because I'm getting older but in far smaller quantities lately than Susan's.  That said, she just gave birth four months ago and that can cause hair loss too.  Her hair will come back--I'm screwed.  Those of you who read her blog (and those who will going forward) know that she cut her hair "short" yesterday.  I had visions of a Sinead O'Connor or Miley Cyrus disaster but apparently my definition of short is different than hers and it looks really great--in fact, I love it.  She didn't need to wait for this scenario to cut it like that.  See her blog for a pic.

Without dragging on and on, I wanted to give an update because I've neglected the blog and updating Susan's condition so long.  She is handling this amazingly well and feeling pretty good (relatively speaking) most of the time.  Unfortunately, today isn't one of those days, but I believe tomorrow will be better.

Finally, I cannot thank everyone enough for their support.  One of these days we will get around to doing a proper thank you, but to everyone who has provided dinner, beer for me or words of encouragement, thank you.  I will never forget what great friends and family we have and will never take that for granted. I love you all.  Until next time...

Wes

PS This photo is from about a month ago, but for once I don't look like a monster.  Susan is beautiful as always.

A lot has happened since my last entry.  Mostly good stuff.  If I posted everyday, you would see more up and down emotion from me.  I'm like that, but I haven't had time to pull out my laptop and there was the whole power outage thing...

Quick summary of what's happened, bullet-point style:

• Father's Day happened and I had a really good day with my kids (lots of Chinese food), but Susan was still in the hospital.  I saw other people posting on Facebook and other sites about time with their spouses and all I wanted was to be able to split a bottle of wine with my wife.  That's all.  That broke me down.
• Susan came home from the hospital the next day.  I was really happy to have her home but she was still feeling awful.  Sleeping OK, but nausea was a factor and she wasn't comfortable eating or drinking.
• Susan ended up back in the ER while I was at work, minutes after assuring me she would be OK.  One of the worst feelings in my life, that she was being taken to the ER via ambulance while I was crunching numbers in an office.  I watched them try to stick an IV in her four times that night.  She has always had bad veins, but dehydration due to the nausea made things so much worse.  She ultimately spent two nights there. When she came home she seemed to feel much better.

It's at this point that I feel I can't gloss over details because I think we turned a corner after that.  We had our  first appointment with the oncologist a few days after she came home and she felt awful.  "I'm the sickest person here," she said to me while waiting her turn.  I looked around.  There were many people in the office that looked healthy, but they are visiting an oncologist, so they aren't well.  Most of them probably didn't have their sigmoid colon removed along with a full hysterectomy two weeks earlier.

We went in and met with the doctor, all the while Susan had her head down on the exam table as she sat in a chair.  Pale as a ghost.  Well, even more pale than her normal red-headed Irish complexion.  The doctor came in and went through the details.  Stage IIB.  To me, that was in line with everything I had heard.  She had a T4 tumor, which is really bad, but there was no evidence that cancer was in the lymph nodes (Stage III) or that it had spread to distant sites (Stage IV).  Susan had convinced herself it was Stage IV or at least IIC.  Anyway, good news.  80% curable with surgery alone.  Chemo may or may not be more successful--hard to tell as most are cured without it.  Due to the the stage of the tumor, though, chemo is planned.  Folfox in what seems to be a low dose.  He doesn't think she'll even lose her hair, which is awesome.  It will still suck, but for the first time since this started, I think Susan is positive that she'll be here for me and the kids.  Having said that, we were still at the ER that night to get fluids.  We came home at a reasonable hour and things have been better ever since.

Since that visit to the oncologist, Susan is eating and drinking fairly normally and feeling much better.  She looks fantastic, although neither of us would recommend cancer as a weight-loss technique.  She went out to the movies today with her college friends Joelle and Amy, which was her first social trip out without me and/or the kids since this all started.  I am so happy that she was able to do that, even though Garrison tried to make life difficult for me and Brooks.  She's already 3, so what can you expect?

As I mentioned, there is a long road ahead with chemo, but our attitude is more positive and now that she got through surgery and the initial aftermath, I think she can handle chemo.  

One of these days, this will all be over, everyone will be healthy and I can thank all of our friends and family for all they have done for us.  Your love and kindness can never be repaid, but know that we appreciate it.

Next post sooner than this.

Much love.

Wes

I don't know where to start. Like most men whose wife has been diagnosed with cancer, I refused to believe it was true.  Sure, I knew it was real.  I trust science, not mythology.  But my mind is wired to deny things that are difficult to comprehend.

Let me start by saying I am very emotional for a man.  I cry during movies, especially stuff where guys don't know their dads or men lose their wives or children.  Good lord, don't start me on losing a child.  I'm numb to the real world, but if a kid dies in a movie, I'm devastated.  I have problems.

We have two children.  Garrison is almost 3 and Brooks is 8 weeks.  When my wife Susan was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago, it wasn't like it was a real thing.  Tears flowed, but cancer is beatable, right?  They took out her sigmoid colon, her uterus and her ovaries.  Nobody needs those things to live, but when they get taken out, there is a reason.  Never a good one.  She is working on recovering from surgery, then she'll deal with chemo and everything else.  She's a lot tougher than me.

I don't know where I am going with this blog but maybe I can share my feelings and maybe other people will read it and offer advice, maybe others will relate. I don't know. I just need to get my feelings down and this is better than Facebook.