So I had two hospital appointments yesterday morning with the two different surgeons (colon and liver) as a check up and revision thing. You will no doubt recall that when I saw the oncologist a couple of weeks ago for my updated prognosis she told me that there wouldn’t be any more surgery and that whatever chemo they put me on next would only be a way of slowing things down and not a cure. And when I asked her to give me a survival time frame if I chose not to have chemo treatment she said it would be more or less a year. So imagine my surprise when I got this news …
My first appointment was with the liver surgeon and I ended up speaking with one of the doctors, Carmen, who had been part of the team during my last operation. My file was open in front of her and when I sat down I couldn’t help but notice that the biopsy report said: FIBROSIS PERITONEAL. SIN EVIDENCIA DE MALIGNIDAD. I just stared at it for a moment and then asked Carmen – “Does that mean what I think it means?” And she said – “The first thing I want you to do is not overreact…” So I said – “Okay, so I won’t open the champagne yet, right?” And she smiled and nodded. Then she turned to Nog (who couldn’t see the file) and told him that the biopsy report on the peritoneal area showed no evidence of malignancy and … oh bless him … his whole face lit up like a Christmas tree! And so she had to start all over again, telling him not to get too excited yet and being very clear that she didn’t want to give us false hope. But I mean, hey – it was the first good news I’ve received since this whole mess started.
After Carmen and the nurse had a look at my scars (which are healing very well) we sat down again and calmly talked over the results. And while it’s still too early to say anything definite – lots of tests still need to be done – if the next CT scan doesn’t show any new tumours elsewhere then there is a chance that they’ll be able to go in and remove the liver tumours. Which means – just maybe – that my cancer might be treatable!
But talk about mixed messages. I’m not actually sure what to believe or how to feel right now. I told Carmen what the oncologist had said and she was very surprised that she could have come to those conclusions without having seen the biopsy results. Apparently there will be a clinical session before my next oncology appointment (November 12th) and Carmen said she was going to be there.
So basically I’m still going to be in limbo until then, but at least I now have a wee glimmer of hope, which is more than I’ve had for quite awhile. Boy, what a rollercoaster ride . . .
casa azahar 
Excellent! That’s good news, if a little bewildering given the oncologist’s prognosis. Remember when I said that the Doctors don’t actually KNOW anything for sure, they’re just making educated guesses? Well, looks like sometimes they might be a little on the pessimistic side with their guessing 🙂 Hurray for that.
I think this news calls for a tapas lunch and some more photos…
🙂
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Oh, Az…I’m practically doing the yippee skippy dance all around my office!!
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That’s great news az! Fingers crossed here (mkes typng a bt difficlt). Definitely worth hitting the best tapas place in town for!
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AWESOME NEWS! i sit hear with tears of joy streaming down my face and wonder how u are feeling. no kidding rollercoaster!! but dont worry gurl, we’ll all ride it together!!
LOTS OF HUGS!
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Okay…the good/possibly great news aside, this rollercoaster of emotion must just suck!!
How ’bout you leave us out here to the rollercoaster, and you focus on staying cool’n’cucumber, nibbling on tapas, allowing your ‘zipper’ to heal, and preparing for the next step? 🙂
Seriously though, Ted and I are crossing our fingers for you. If you were a cat, I’d snibble you right now…
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Oh, wow. That’s big news. I’m trying not to be too excited, what with the limbo and all, but wow. I’m thrilled!
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Well, well, well!!! I am SO glad to hear this. Perhaps I am rejoicing prematurely, but I take this as extremely good news, and I am like DKL, I had tears in my eyes.
From what I have been reading recently it is evidence that your immune system has started in on its job.
The book is in the mail, only slightly read. I read about 1/3 of it, and I wrapped it up reluctantly. But my copy will be here in a few days and I want you to get this information ASAP. The good news is, this is a very readable book, the author has managed to translate all the highly technical jargon into language an ordinary person can understand.
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Crikey! My head would be spinning like a top! My head IS spinning like a top and it isn’t even MY prognosis.
All digits are crossed (or, in the case of the broken ones, as crossed as they can get) that this one is THE one.
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While I am very happy at this news, I would like to slap your oncologist. Why say anything without a biopsy report? Cripes. Glad to hear this, though. More time for you to torture me at word games.
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I’d like to slap all my oncologists, Silverstar. The only one I’ve liked and have had any sort of rapport with is Yolanda, and she turned out to be a resident.
It’s almost hard to believe that the “peritoneal metastasis” they saw during the aborted liver resection turned out to be non-malignant fibrosis (whatever that is). I’ll be having the CT scan tomorrow and Carmen checked off a few more things on my blood test form (that the oncologist hadn’t) so we shall see what turns up when all the results are in.
Knowing that one of the chances could now be surgery and recovery/remission (rather than just prolonging my life a bit with chemo) makes all the difference. I’ll ask one of The Team to get in touch as soon as they have the clinical session about my treatment. I’d rather hear the news from one of them than any of the oncologists.
I’ve always hated SUSPENSE, not to mention rollercoasters, but it helps not having to go through this all alone. Thanks for being here, guys.
And instead of celebrating with a tapa lunch, it’ll be a birthday lunch here at casa az today. Quite possibly with photos.
DKL, did Himself show you the photo I sent of me doing my Jovia impersonation? 🙂
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I’m too old to do happy dances so I am doing a happy stroll 🙂 With tears in my eyes, fingers crossed and lots of hope.
It is a beautiful world.
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I don’t really know what to say.
It’s fantastic news.
But I am scared about getting tooooo optimistic too soon.
But I’m happy for you . . .
But
But
Rollercoasters eh?
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Chances are always good – looks like the options you may have are wider than they seemd recently. Have a great birthday celebration !
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Wow!
This is the best piece of news I’ve heard in a long time.
:bighug:
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It was my joke what done it – cured you. Here is another one so you will be running a marathon next week.
What do you call a man with a spade in his head?
Doug!
That really is it it- I know there are millions in that series but you will be delighted to know that I really, truly know no more.
I am so happy. No words really – just really really happy about your news and very very optimistic about the future.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Fibrosis is scar tissue, sort of, inside and very often is the body’s response to surgical or other fiddling with your internal organs. It’s an important part of the healing process, but sometimes it’s too much of it.
When the fibrosis links the surfaces of two organs to each other (or distant parts of the same organ like the gut) it’s called adherences.
Both of them are a mess when your doing re-surgery on a patient, but can be handled. Even I curse sometimes. It’s always wise to wait for the pathology report before telling the patient about tumour spread.
Says the pathologist 😉
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Sooooo . . . I just got a phone call from the oncologist I saw for my last prognosis. She said that there is going to be a clinical session about my case next Wednesday and that before then there would be more extensive testing done on my biopsy samples to confirm whether there is malignancy or not.
She said the most likely outcome will be that, although three peritoneal samples were taken and studied, that they will find a malignancy that wasn’t previously detected. But if there isn’t, then they will probably go ahead with another surgery sooner rather than later.
But she was very clear that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. She is almost certain they will find malignant tumours when they check the samples more carefully.
Fuck.
Well, at least I will only be in limbo until next Wednesday. Meanwhile, if anyone asks if I am dying I shall answer … “not today”.
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Well that was a happy thread….
until that last post…
😦
Hope you get good news again next Wednesday.
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Welcome to the rollercoaster ride, Orcus. Make sure you’re strapped in tight!
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At least I can get off
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Strange, there was a hug there that didn’t work.
I’ll use the traditional {{{}}} instead 🙂
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Sorry, no getting off now, Orcus! 😉
Well, I just got another phone call. This time from my friend Ricardo (of The Team, and also the head of Nuclear Medicine) and he said that he can probably get the second biopsy results, as well as the results from tomorrow’s CT scan, by Friday. And then he’ll call me.
He thinks the original negative results are unusual, but he also says that doesn’t mean they aren’t right.
In any case, I would prefer to hear any news – good or bad – from him. There’s just something so comforting about Ricardo. I’ve known him for years and he once ‘saved my life’ by co-signing a bank loan for me when nobody else would. He’s just someone very real and honest … so, let’s hope he has good news for me on Friday.
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Here’s to “Not today”.
A great cheer to lift a glass under.
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How … nerve-wracking. Not a good word, but then there aren’t words are there. As Metro says, here’s to “not today”.
A/B
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Here’s to hoping for good news on Friday. *crosses everything*
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Just back from the CT scan, which was awful ! Not only did I spend most of the afternoon chugging back a litre of “barfium” (aka strawberry flavoured snot) but the guy at the hospital couldn’t find a vein and tried injecting the contrast four times (in four different places) before he managed to do it properly. I was in tears by then, not so much from the pain but from feeling so bloody helpless … also I’m so wound up about what Ricardo is going to find out that just about everything is making me cry.
Well, except for online scrabble (hint hint…)
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You need to rat on the guy who couldn’t find a vein. Anyone who can’t get you on the first poke needs to go get someone who can.
I hope you’re feeling a little better now. When do you get Ricardo’s read?
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Well …
… it looks like I came to this party too late to share in the simple rejoicing, but it’s still sort-of good news, I suppose.
“Not today!”
Aye!
T.
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Oh, so it did go through after all. Sorry about that.
T.
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I just found it in the spam file, TRiG. I forgot to check it today, so it’s good you mentioned it.
Ricardo said he’ll call me tomorrow, Beth. He says he’s feeling optimistic, but I’m a nervous wreck. Having had a couple of hopeful days … I just don’t want to lose that, you know?
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Dear god, this is so far beyond ridiculous that if I didn’t know better I’d attribute it to Samuel Beckett. Perhaps you should present half your medical team with Waiting for Godot and the other half with The Chairs. Then stick half in a sensory deprivation tank and throw the others into the mosh pit at a Metallica concert.
Pssst, do you want me to get the ahem “special” tea to Zoomer? Has he gone yet? I’m all confused…this working for a living thing really takes it out of a person!
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Good description, Rain. Though I am only annoyed and frustrated with the oncology team I’ve been assigned to. The surgeons and The Team are very good.
Anyhow, just heard from Ricardo and he said the results won’t be ready until Monday. It’s gonna be a l-o-n-g weekend…
But at least zoomer will be here on Sunday afternoon, so there is something pleasant to look forward to. I think it’s too late to arrange a tea meet-up … I just hope he brings the popcorn!
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Ooooh, Az, I was so happy to read this post, too bad it took the rollercoaster turn later.
Thumbs pressed for your new results. (What we silly Germans do instead of crossing fingers.) I’ll probably be checking this constantly on Monday!
[And I agree that oncologists should all be slapped. Mine “lost” my file for four months! ]
Have fun with Zoomer! 🙂
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Popcorn packed (only six packets, I’m traveling light this time).
Ready to arrive at the most “interesting of times”! My guess is they’ll find nothing worse than a treatable tumour, an old wine bottle cork and some undigested tapas. Nothing a big bear hug won’t help.
Cheers! See you Sunday. 🙂
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Damn, talk about a rollercoaster! I’m wondering is the first oncologist was doing a little cover her ass with the second phone call she made to you. Carmen may have talked to her, and made her feel a little defensive. Can’t see any other reason for her calling you, when she could have waited until the consultation later.
I’ll just keep my fingers crossed, my thumbs pressed and search the front lawn for 4 leaf clovers, if you don’t mind.
“Not today!” I like that one.
HUGS
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Hey Mixed messages,
Of everything you said this is what I would like 2 comment on this one statement,
“But talk about mixed messages. I’m not actually sure what to believe or how to feel right now.”
This is the best suggestion of what I think you should believe.
God has given You a chance to know that He is real and I think you should acknowledge Him for the healing He has sent your way. Claim It and keep the faith because God said that all you need is Faith the size of a mustard seed ( do you know how small a mustard seed is) check it out. When HE heals you completely take some time and see the world He created spend time with God and get to know what He wants you to do to LIFT HIM UP!!!!
Check out these sites on an opportunity that can help you
see the world God has created:
watchourmovie.com and elzabad2.com
Thanks,
elzabad2
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