Cancer Journey - Nov. 27, 2013

It's my post-surgery follow up appointment with Dr. Kaufman today...and it's also the Tom and Jerry party at the yacht club (where Neil and I are the honorary 'Tom' and 'Gerri').  Neil is needed at the club to get things prepped, so Pam joins me at the doctor office.

Kaufman is only running a half hour behind today so we get in around 3:40 or so.  Kaufman notices my iPad and I tell him I have a list of questions, but he asks to have his say first...  afterwards, I realize that he's been thru this before and wants to set up the stage and timing of delivery according to his schedule, not mine.  That's okay.

As usual, he provides a wealth of information and a few new analogies.  Pam takes notes like a court stenographer and I mostly just sit and listen and try to understand how all of this relates to me.

We review the latest pathology report that was done after my surgery.  The lump measured 4.6cm long, which is just under the 5cm Stage 3 classification.  I'm Stage 2B.  Of the 5 lymph nodes that were removed, 3 had cancer cells present.  Not good.

 

The bottom line, is that with the discovery of cancer cells in the lymph nodes/lymphatics, I now qualify for full body treatment.  Which means chemo.  Shit.  My worst fear has been realized.  And the timing of all of this will likely begin in early January.  I tell Kaufman about my work schedule and he says that once chemo begins, I shouldn't be getting on any airplanes.  If sharing the air space with 150 passengers is a bad idea, then me hanging out with 20,000 attendees from all of the world probably isn't good either.  The reality starts to sink in that I won't be on my January 29 flight to San Francisco and I'll miss my first Photonics West conference in 17 years.

I'm told that I will be meeting with a radiologist, and a medical oncologist and they will give their opinions for treatment.  I ask about second opinions and Kaufman thinks that's always a good idea, so he faxes my pathology report to Seattle Cancer Care Alliance and I'm told that they will contact me.

So, for the next 4 weeks, I am to heal, meet with a flurry of doctors and try like hell to keep my spirits up.

 

Pam and I sit down in Kaufman's waiting room for a little bit and we both share a few tears as the all of the info that Kaufman shared begins to sink in.  This is going to suck.

 

I head on to the yacht club and am soon surrounded by Neil and friends.  I am so grateful for their hugs. 

 

Finally at home, I open a card that I received from Alicia and her beautiful prose makes the tears overflow.  Neil gives me a hug and I just cry.  Sometimes it's good to just let it all out.