Sunday, April 26, 2009

Sandy had lower back pain and her feet hurt as if she'd just run a marathon, but she took a pain pill and kept herself busy with our guests. On Saturday, Sandy and Scot and Ava and I went to see Monsters Vs. Aliens 3D. We'd all seen it once before, but only Sandy and I had seen it in 3D. Scot was amazed at the difference that 3D brings to it.

At one point in the movie I heard Ava say something that Sandy thought was amusing. I asked Sandy what she'd said. She told me, "She wants to go home." I thought she meant that Ava wanted to go home, but Ava had been talking about Susan, the main character in the movie. Good, I thought, we'll get to see the rest of the movie.

The rest of the day was largely uneventful. Sandy had a better idea this time about what meds to take and when, as compared with the days following Chemo Day 1. As a result, she tolerated the negative symptoms better.

Scot and his entourage left for Paducah this morning about 10 o'clock. We'll miss them, but our cats Smokey and The Bandit will not. Bandit hissed at everyone when we let him up from the basement to mingle, so we put him back in the basement until after they left. Smokey had stayed in the basement the whole time, being the shy 24 pound cat that he is.

Friday, April 24, 2009 Part 2

After running all over town shopping, Sandy made dinner for everyone. After that, we went outside with all the neighborhood kids to make s'mores. Who was there? Luke (Bubba) and Lexi and Emma and Garrit and Zoey and Hallie and Paige. Ava had plenty of playmates and made friends fast. She had a great time and so did we. They played hopscotch on the front sidewalk and made s'mores with blackened marshmallows in the fire pit. The girls wore our sunglasses so ash wouldn't get in their eyes, then did the funky chicken on a pile of clay in the back yard. Ava got in on the action too. With Lexi's help she even learned how to ride a bike with training wheels.

We are all (in the words of our friend Raybo) tuckered little troopers. Sandy may have overextended herself. She's pretty tired. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Sandy got up this morning with redness in her face. Red cheeks from the chemo, looked like someone who's been working outside on a hot day. It's turned out to be a hot day, but that wasn't it.

One of the unfortunate events in the life of a chemo patient is that they lose their hair. Sandy had her hair cut short a while back, knowing it was going to fall out eventually. Well, it's been doing just that, so this morning she asked me to cut it all off.

I used barber shears and took it down as short as possible without shaving her head. I think that doing this bothered me more than it did her. By this time, she had become resigned to it and so to her it was something that needed to be done and that's the end of it. She put on a ball cap and headband and went to work getting ready for my son Scot and family's visit here tonight, tomorrow and into Sunday morning.

This afternoon she's been to Walmart, Walgreens and Kroger. I had told her to take it easy, that she doesn't have the energy she's used to having, but I'm not so sure she believes that. Or . . . she remembers how badly she felt on the weekend after her first chemo day, she believes it will happen again on this weekend, and she wants to get done as much as possible before it does.

Whatever it is, I know she'll be OK. She always is, even when things don't go her way.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

As I write this, it's 9 am on Chemo Day 2. Sandy is getting meds through an IV into the port that was installed a while back. She's getting drugs for allergies, upset stomach and restless legs. Next she'll get the first chemical for three hours, the second for one and we should be able to go home.

Here's a picture that I took of her about an hour ago in "Infusion South," a large room in the Duchossois (dutch-uh-SWAH) Center for Advanced Medicine at the University of Chicago Medical Center (A.K.A. DCAM at UCMC).



















We were lucky to find on street parking this morning, but then we'd left home at 6 to ensure it and we thought Sandy would have to have another blood draw. It turned out that she didn't, so we just spent time waiting to get into the infusion room.

Now it's about 12:30 and Sandy's on drug #2. This takes about an hour. Here's a picture of her taking drug #1 (Paclitaxel). You can tell that we have a lot of spare time on our hands while this chemo is going on.

(Click on picture for larger image)





















Here she is, playing on her favorite gaming machine, the Nintendo DS.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Sandy's doing fine today. Went to work all day, even worked late so a coworker could take off early, then went to her mother's to do some errands, etc.

But between work and mother's there was a knock at the door and we had yet another neighborhood young'un with a card for Sandy. Madeline. Now most of the kids know they might get their picture on line, so . . .

Sandy appreciates the cards, even though she's feeling pretty good right now.

Chemo Day 2 on Thursday, so she might feel achy and sore over the weekend, which is when my son and his wife and their two daughters and his mother-in-law will be here. We welcome them just the same, as it's been a while since we've seen them and it's been at least a couple of years since they've been here.

Here's Madeline's card and a picture of her holding a bunny, flanked by a sister and a neighbor.

Monday, April 20, 2009

The kids must be talking to each other because Sandy got another get well card today. I found it in the mailbox. It's at the end of this entry.

Sandy feels pretty good. She went to work all day today, then went out with friends for pizza. Not much else going on.

Here's Makenna and her card:

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Sandy and I went to see State of Play with friend Ted. The movie had lots of plot twists that we won't reveal. We were taken in throughout. Sandy loves action movies and this was a good one, reminiscent of All The President's Men.

When we got home, a couple of young girls from the neighborhood stopped by to see Sandy. They gave her cards and about $2 in change each. They were very cute and thoughtful and Sandy really appreciated their gesture.

Here are the cards and a picture of one of the girls. We don't have a picture of Emma, unfortunately.

Zoey's card:

















Zoey:





















Emma's card:

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Sandy made an appointment with the girl who cuts her hair to have it cut short. She figured that as long as she's going to lose it anyway, might as well have it cut short and have less to find on her pillow when she wakes up in the morning. So she did. She came home and asked me how it looks. I thought it looks really cute and I'd love to show you a picture of her in it, but she hasn't gotten there yet. She doesn't think it's ready for Prime Time.

I'll keep working on her. When she consents, I'll put it in this blog.

Today we drove to Frankfort, a beautiful little town north of here. We were looking up a place called Choo Choo Johnny's. It's a kid restaurant, with trains running on high shelves on the walls, and on the inside of the counter. The counter train delivers baskets of burgers and fries to customers. There are arcade games and a good-sized model train setup with buildings and all the other train paraphernalia. We thought it might be cute for granddaughter Ava when her family comes up here next weekend.

Kernel Sweetooth is a popcorn and ice cream shop in Frankfort. Our good friends Ted and Nancy from St. Paul love this place as much as we do. Sandy and I stopped there for ice cream and headed home.

Maybe the kids will like one of these places, maybe not. When you're three and a half years old, you can change your mind pretty fast.

My Navy buddy Mike asked if I could put pictures on this blog. I think I can and will try today, because this afternoon a couple neighbor kids came around to give Sandy cards. They need to be on this site, right along with the card granddaughter Ava sent in late March.

Here's Ava's card, followed by Ava and her baby sister Reese
(Click on any picture to see a larger version of it)







































Lexi's card and Lexi:




And our little buddy Luke:

April 16, 2009

Today we went to the University of Chicago Medical Center for Sandy to have a CAT scan. Free parking on the street was full, so we went into the parking garage. I dropped Sandy off so she could make her appointment. It took about 30 minutes of driving in the garage to find a spot. I parked next to a woman who said she'd been driving in the garage for 50 minutes before finding a place to park.

I found Sandy waiting to have a blood draw. We waited and waited, then found out that the nurse who supposedly ordered it had forgotten to do it. It was time for the CAT scan, so we left. In the radiology department we learned that Sandy had to drink about 20 ounces of something called OmniPaque over the course of one hour before the CAT scan could be done. It wasn't tasty. During the hour, we went back to the blood lab and got the blood draw done, then returned to radiology.

The CAT scan took only about 15 minutes. Nurse Connie told me that Sandy's white blood count is normal, her platelets also in normal range. Good, because yesterday we were led to believe they were low.

Lunch in the cafeteria was $21, parking $11 (that's with validation). It was good to get home. Now we wait for the CAT scan results, to find out how the cancer is progressing.

Weather today is sunny and in the 60's. It's about time. Like everyone else we know, we were getting tired of cold weather and gloomy skies.

Sandy's hair is coming out slowly. She wears a wig during the day and a cap at night. She's been cautioned not to wear the wig near an open oven or near any other heat.

Now she's at home, sitting in a lounge chair in the sun. The kids are out playing and stop to say hi, then go on about their business. It's a good day.

April 14, 2009

In general, Sandy seems to feel pretty good. She's been working nearly full time and going to doctor appointments as necessary. She lost some hair yesterday and we expect her to lose more soon. This won't be easy for her, but she knows it's going to happen and she accepts it. Our family doctor today told her she looks good and has recovered well, both from her first day of chemo and from the laparotomy surgery in February. She had a blood draw today at our local hospital; the results were then faxed to the U of Chicago Medical Center. Nurse Connie called Sandy to tell her that her white blood count is quite low. We'll be going to the Med Center on Thursday for a CAT scan, part of what's needed to see how she's progressing. With a low WBC, they might provide her with a "growth factor" to encourage her WBC to climb. If her white blood count isn't at a certain known level by Chemo Day 2, we will be turned away until the number meets specifications.

This past weekend, my daughter Julie and her friend Todd flew down for a visit. It was great to see them and we ate like there's no tomorrow. The Blues Cafe, VIPs Restaurant, and Tuscany in Manteno. This is not to mention that we went through more deviled eggs than you've probably eaten in the past five years on holidays.

April 6, 2009

Sandy had her first experience with chemotherapy Thursday. We were put into a small room in the infusion section. A nurse hooked up an IV to her port catheter and started the first chemical, Paclitaxel (Taxol). She started the drip slowly to ensure Sandy had no ill effects and she did not, so the drip rate was doubled to normal and ran for three hours. After that, the nurse started the second chemical, Carboplatin, and ran it for an hour. She flushed out the port and tubing with a saline solution and we were free to go.

At no time during all of this did Sandy experience any ill effects. In fact, we were home by 3 and went to a party at a friend’s house at 6. She had a good time visiting and I was glad to see it. Home to bed.

Friday was different. She went to work for the whole day, but when she came home for lunch her cheeks were flushed red. She didn’t feel warm all over, just in the face. She took Benadryl and the redness seemed to go away. On Friday evening, her lower back began bothering her. A heating pad helped ease the pain but not eliminate it.

By Saturday morning she was shaking, feeling light-headed. She was tired, which is unusual for her in the morning. She had heartburn. She discovered that she could no longer tolerate her favorite food: salt; it tasted bitter. She was tired most of the day and her back was bothering her more as the day wore on. She watched TV most of the day. By late evening the pain was nearly intolerable for her, so we tried to call the doctor. The mobile phones couldn’t find service. Now what? But within a few minutes service came back well enough to make the call. A doctor eventually came on line to suggest she take a painkiller. We had Vicodin on hand from after her surgery, so she took that, went to bed and to sleep.

Sunday she rested again most of the day. The pain in her back had lessened during the day but lay back in at night. She took Vicodin again.

The one event we feared going into chemo was nausea. It’s the event chemo patients often talk about, but Sandy avoided it so far. She was given anti-nausea meds on chemo day, then a prescription for Zofran that she’s taking every 12 hours, along with occasional Pepcid Complete tabs and with Compazine as a backup (she hasn’t taken that yet). So far so good.

The effects of chemo are cumulative. This could mean that symptoms will increase in number and severity after the upcoming chemo cycles. We think about this as infrequently as possible, as we could turn out to be wrong.

We got a kick out of a series of Youtube videos by a young (36) woman who’s going through chemo for breast cancer. It doesn’t sound funny and it isn’t always, but she’s going through this with friends and looking for Mr. Right or, better yet, Dr. Right. I don’t recommend that everyone see these videos, but if you’re going through what she and Sandy and many others are going through, they give a sense of community and a model for maintaining humor when possible.

Monday morning. Sandy awoke with a few aches and pains and felt tired, more tired than usual for her. Nevertheless, she donned her work clothes and I drove her through the snow to work. Yes! Snow. Wet, sloppy, our landscape looking more like winter than spring.

I called her midmorning to see how she's doing. She was trying to get the fax machine to work right and said she was otherwise doing okay.

April 1, 2009

We found out late last week that the reason Sandy had fluid in her right lung is in part because she'd contracted bronchitis. This on top of everything else, she did not need. But she has some powerful meds to counteract the bronchitis and is coming along just fine, back into her usual routine.

Yesterday we drove to the University of Chicago, got there about 30 minutes early to find all offices closed. When they opened Sandy had her blood drawn and then we went to a procedures section of the Medical Center that looks pretty much like any emergency room, with curtains separating patients, TVs playing, staff running around trying to find everyone else. Sandy got an IV in her arm and was then prepped for the port catheter. After the blood draw results came back, she was whisked into a procedures room and put into that "twilight" mode where you're half asleep, half awake. Even so, the resident who inserted the catheter into her jugular pressed so hard on her chest (we don't know what for) during the procedure that she felt pain. Nevertheless, she was in and out of that room within about 45 minutes. The nurse kept an eye on her for a while to ensure that she wasn't leaking anywhere important and then released her.

She sported a couple 2" square bandages, one of which pulled the skin on her neck and caused some discomfort, but other than that she felt OK. After we got home I noticed that the little red spot under one bandage had grown larger and I'm thinking about where the other end of it is and what might happen. I drew a line around it and kept a close watch on it every 15 and then 30 minutes and then once an hour or so. She kept watching TV with a cat on her lap, occasionally following the cat's lead by falling asleep. She had gotten up early and been through a lot; it was time to rest and so she did.

She worked full time today and will do so again tomorrow. We took her bandages off tonight, unsure of what we might find. But it was a couple cuts and a bump (the port) under the skin and a little burn on her skin from the tape. She doesn't tolerate the tape well at all, so we now consider it as an allergy and tell the staff so when necessary. She was told to keep it dry, so with twice-washed hands I put some Bacitracin on the red skin and covered it with generic Telfa pads held on with paper tape. To keep anything like blankets from catching on the bandages, we went so far as to wrap her with an elastic bandage to hold things in place and to cover any loose edges or corners.

This is probably too much information, so I'll move on.

Thursday is Sandy's first day of chemotherapy at the University of Chicago Med Center. It will be a long day for us. They'll hook her up to her port and start feeding chemicals into her. She's been prescribed at least two meds for nausea, both generic to keep the insurance company happy and the cost down. She's also been given a corticosteroid, but I don't remember why. Probably as an anti-inflammatory. We're hopeful that the meds will do their thing, but there's the big unknown there so Sandy's understandably apprehensive about it when she happens to think about it.

She's been shopping for head covers, hats, and the like in preparation for losing her hair. It's hard for me to imagine how this must feel to her, but she's taking it in stride like a trouper.

One of our neighbors is a retired surgical nurse. We talked awhile with her and she reassured Sandy. Then she made dinner and brought it over! Very nice thought, excellent dinner, and we're more than grateful.

This is all we've written about in recent weeks, which might lead you to think it's all we do and think about. Not so. Life goes on, and she's just as lighthearted and optimistic as usual, most of the time.

March 25, 2009

Sandy spoke to her oncological gynecologist (Dr. Yamada) at the University of Chicago yesterday. They went over Sandy's options.

First, the clinical trial. Should she choose to accept this, Sandy could start almost immediately. This would include pre-tests to establish baselines. Sandy and I talked it over yesterday and decided that the benefits of the drug were not persuasive compared with its potential side effects (demonstrated with other types of cancer) and with the almost one and a half year commitment she'd have to make. Not to mention the fact that we'd never know if she is receiving the drug at all. She could be in the control group, being infused with a placebo. We ruled the clinical trial out.

The other options included a second look surgery within the next couple of weeks, followed by chemotherapy, or going into chemo ASAP. Dr. Yamada ruled out the second look surgery as a viable option. She believes it's best to begin chemo soon.

There it is. We go to the University of Chicago next Monday to have a port catheter inserted in Sandy and the chemo will begin 3 days later. Reportedly, the chemo could take up to 8 or more hours this first day. Dr. Yamada wants to start a slow drip while observing Sandy to ensure that she doesn't have an adverse reaction to the Taxol (paclitaxel). If she doesn't, they'll speed the infusion to a normal rate (In fact, this will be done by Connie, a nurse who's administered chemo for over 20 years, and not by the doctor).

Take snacks, bring entertainment, we were told. It's a long haul, sitting for so long without much movement.

Sandy is glad that this schedule has finally been set up and she can get started. There will be 6 cycles of three weeks each, with various tests taken at times to determine the progress of the chemicals. We are optimistic that she'll do well, in part because she is otherwise in good health.

March 21, 2009

Sandy plans to return to work nearly full time on Monday. She's been working half days for the past couple of weeks and is feeling better since . . .

She had 850cc's of fluid extracted from her right lung on Thursday. She had had a pain in her right side, a persistent cough and shortness of breath. We went to our family practice doctor on Monday, who referred her to a lung doctor (for lack of a more accurate term), who scheduled her for the extraction. Over 3 1/2 cups or more than a bottle of wine. Once done, she could literally breathe easier.

But, we wondered, were there any cancer cells in the fluid? She got a call yesterday telling her that there were no cancer cells in the fluid. Good news. We cracked open a bottle of non-alcoholic wine to celebrate, no irony intended.

This was a side trip on the way to recovery from the cancer. She still has a pain in her side, which might be residual or might be due to something yet undetected. If the pain subsides in the days to come, we'll have our answer.

We had a first appointment with the oncological gynecologist at the University of Chicago on March 13th. We hoped for a definitive answer from her, Dr. Yamada. She gave us a number of options, which was disappointing. How are we to know which option is best? Here they are:

1) Join a clinical trial. The trial is to test a drug called Avastin (containing the unpronounceable bevacizumab). The trial has three "arms." Each arm entails the use of standard chemotherapy (2 chemicals) plus the addition of either Avastin or placebo (the control group). This is 6 cycles at 3 weeks apiece, followed by 15 months of treatment without the 2 chemicals but with the use of either the Avastin or placebo. The purpose is to determine whether Avastin is more effective than no Avastin. Avastin has been approved for colorectal cancer, and this trial is to determine whether it's advisable for use in ovarian cancer. It's a double-blind study and it would pay for chemicals used.
2) Because Sandy had a 4cm diameter cancer attached to her colon following the laparotomy on Feb 18, the possibility exists to undergo a "second look" surgery to remove it and do repairs as necessary before beginning chemotherapy. I should add that, if the doctor were to do this and remove all cancer or leave a cancer of less than 1cm in diameter, then chemotherapy would differ from "normal." I mean that "normal" chemotherapy would involve inserting a port catheter into Sandy's chest. The catheter feeds into a major vein or artery (whichever is the correct term) and it is into this port that the chemicals would be administered. This saves on "blowing out" smaller veins because of the caustic side effects of these chemicals. If this is "normal," then the "not normal" procedure would be to insert a port near Sandy's abdomen, to feed chemicals directly into the affected area and thus bypass areas that do not need them. This is called intraperitoneal injection, or IP chemotherapy. This is the most effective chemotherapy for ovarian cancer, but is tolerated by less than half of those women who receive it. It's brutal but it's the most effective method, by all accounts. After hearing about the side effects of IP chemo, Sandy is leaning heavily away from it.
3) Begin chemotherapy as soon as possible in hopes that this will kill all remaining cancer cells, making a second look surgery moot.

After researching Avastin on the Internet, we decided not to participate in the clinical trial. At least with regard to colorectal cancer, Avastin has been shown to prolong life only another 5 months and it costs about $100,000 a year. Since Avastin has not been approved for use with ovarian cancer, it's doubtful that insurance would cover the cost. If we had the money of, say, Bill and Melinda Gates we might pursue this, but we do not.

Sandy thinks Dr. Yamada might lean toward going in for a second look surgery prior to beginning chemotherapy. Of course, this means healing from surgery all over again, possibly with more difficulty if the doctor performs a colon resection. We don't know. The doctor has been out all this week.

Sandy will call Dr. Yamada on Monday to see what she thinks, or worse yet, set up an appointment to get the same information face-to-face, wasting precious time. In any event, we'll go with what she deems most appropriate.

For most of the time, our days are as normal as those of anyone else. Right now she's making one of her favorite all-time foods, pasta e fagioli as made by Olive Garden. She plans to spend some of this afternoon reading some steamy novel while sitting in the sun on the front porch. She visits her mother in a nursing home. She talks to her sisters on a daily basis. She watches HGTV on a daily basis. She's sewing occasionally. Doing things, living her life. Shopping. Meanwhile, I have a lot of yard work to do after having installed a French drain on two sides of the house. The yard's a mess. I have a couple guys from the local University of Illinois County Extension Office working with me to determine how best to patch up or repair a large area of brown grass in the back yard. Rototilling is planned, along with twice-annual core aeration to try to get grass roots to grow in this thick, gumbo clay soil our house is built on.

We don't now what the doctor will say on Monday. After we talk, we'll know more and proceed as she advises.

March 8, 2009

Sandy is healing well. She had the catheter and staples removed February 25th, one week after surgery. All along the way, people have commented on how good she looks considering how recent surgery was. She is improving gradually and might be doing a little more around the house than advised. In any event, she's talked to her employer and plans to return to work part time tomorrow. Tomorrow!

But she cannot yet drive, per doctor's instructions, so I will be transporting her to the places where she must go, whether to work or to visit her mother or sisters or for shopping.

Sandy pulled a muscle in her back a week ago while trying to roll out of bed. Unfortunately, it was only AFTER this event (and maybe BECAUSE of it) that she became more adept at the roll. I don't think she'd ever pulled a muscle before, so she didn't know that it can hurt as badly as broken ribs (another experience she's never had) and take weeks to completely heal.

It is said that when one door closes another opens. It is not always easy to find the open door in situations like this, but one such door is how well events have gone for her so far. We attribute this in large part to the thoughts and prayers from you. We don't take them lightly.

Sandy has not yet begun chemotherapy. It has yet to be scheduled. First, she has made plans to see an oncological gynecologist at the University of Chicago. This will be next Friday. She has arranged for all pathology and other reports and samples to be sent to the doctor there. This Wednesday they will hold a meeting to go over this information in preparation for Friday's appointment.

The latest pathology report from Sandy's regular gynecologist (we received it last Wednesday) indicates that her cancer is a rare type that formed in her fallopian tubes. Cancer in both tubes that metastasized to the lining on her omentum, all of which was removed during her laparotomy. However, some of the cancer had caused the uterus to adhere to her bladder and, although the organs were separated and the uterus removed, not all of the cancer on the bladder wall could be removed safely. The gynecologist believes this is best killed off with chemotherapy treatment.

So next Friday we'll have more information. For now, she's been catching up on her favorite TV shows on Home & Garden TV. We've been playing Euchre and Rummy. She's been making bracelets. She's been getting back into doing the laundry (I truly believe it soothes her), although not carrying heavy loads.

Her gynecologist had told us that she could begin chemotherapy, at the earliest, 4 weeks after surgery. That would be March 18th. For now, no time for this has been set. She has the U of Chicago appointment Friday, followed by a local cancer doctor on the 26th and her gynecologist on the 27th.

As always, one day at a time. Thanks again for keeping Sandy in mind.

February 23, 2009

We left the hospital at 4 yesterday to come home. Sandy got the blessing of 2 doctors, which we figured was enough and so we left. We took the flowers home with us, although one of the glass vases broke when it fell off the cart due to wind as I was about to put them all in the van (with all water drained out in advance they were top-heavy).

Today (Monday) she's showered up, has her drugs, is sitting in a rocker in front of the TV watching her favorite programs that were recorded over the past few days. She did have a few bandaids covering a part of her stomach for a day or so and this irritated her skin to the point of a 2nd degree burn. She can't tolerate the tape. So we put on some Bacitracin and Telfa pads, nothing sticky, and hope to see positive results in a day or so. Other than this she's doing well. She'll go to the gynie doctor Wednesday to have the catheter and staples removed and then can start feeling somewhat normal again.

We thank you for your calls and emails!

February 21, 2009

Sandy felt sick overnight and called me early this morning to be with her. I got there about 6:30am. She was given meds for restless legs and for pain and eventually felt better, was able to rest. She had oatmeal for breakfast, but not much so I kept on her to drink more fluids and to do the inhaling thing with the tube and the 3 balls to avoid pneumonia. She had a few visitors in the early afternoon who didn't stay long, knowing she needed rest. They were a friend from out of state whom she used to work with, Brooke Mitchell and friend Steve. Also Sandy's boss and his wife, followed closely by our good friend Ruth Thornton. She got a phone call from her uncle Bernie's son Kenny and was really glad to hear from him. We also got a call from friend Mike Mottram and wife Max, letting her know they're wishing the best for her recovery. I left her at 6:15 or so tonight and she was in good spirits. Earlier, she'd walked in the hall a while for the exercise and to look at new babies and I think this helped.

The nursing staff has been top notch all the way. Very kind and capable people. We appreciate you keeping her in mind through this ordeal. We know it's helpful to her. We believe she'll be coming home tomorrow sometime, but this has yet to be determined.

February 20, 2009

Sandy had some tubes removed today, along with the bandaging that covered the surgical area. She had food by mouth (Cream of Wheat) for the first time since the surgery. Her IV and morphine pumps were turned off and removed. Pain will be diminished through Vicodin every 4 hours and seems to be working well for her. Constant pain, but tolerable. She learned today that her uterus had adhered to her bladder, so the surgeons had separated the two and removed as much cancer as possible, then stitched the bladder back up. She'll have the catheter in for a couple of days longer than usual for this reason.

She had visits from Ted & Carol Lederer, Paula Franklin, Dawn from Sandy's work, Sandy's sisters Judy and Janet (with Ron) and their mom Mariette, as well as friend Joan Reed.

Last night son Scot called to talk to her, which she really appreciated. She also talked today with brother Terry, in Pennsylvania. Sandy got flowers from friends and relatives, which are now lining the walls (the flowers, not the relatives).

Sandy is doing well even while with some pain. Her recovery will take weeks and chemotherapy of some kind is in her future. Nevertheless, she has a wonderful sense of humor that helps to see her through each day.

Your thoughts and prayers are much appreciated and we believe they are working. Thank you!

February 19, 2009

Thanks very much for your prayers and thoughtfulness and to those who have been able to come visit. Sandy appreciates this more than you can know. I have printed out the notes you've sent and will share them with Sandy tomorrow.

Sandy's throat is still a little sore from the airway used by the anesthesiologist yesterday, but can now take ice chips to mitigate the dryness. Her spirits are, as always, upbeat. She had one tube removed today and is glad of it, has compared herself with one of our computers with wires protruding everywhere. The morphine drip runs constantly for now, and she hasn't hit the button (to emit a higher dose) nearly as often today as yesterday. With assistance, she rolled out of bed and into a rocking chair for a couple hours while she and I watched "Analyze This" on DVD. She dozed off and on and finally went to sleep for the night around 7:30.

Again, Sandy's in the OB/GYN unit, room 101. The staff there has been the best I've seen in some years, which we think is where some of your prayer efforts have gone.

February 18, 2009

Today Sandy underwent surgery for possible cancer. She had what the doctors call a pelvic mass low in her abdomen and a blood test (CA 125) showed a very high figure that might indicate cancer. Today's surgery was an exploratory laparotomy. The doctors (one gynecologist, one general surgeon) found cancer predominately in the omentum and not in the ovaries as at first anticipated. The cancer was almost completely removed. The gynecologist told me he believes 95% of it has been removed and that chemotherapy will most likely take care of the rest of it. Even more might have been removed, but the doctors felt that doing so might lead to excessive bleeding and felt it would not be worth the risk. The doctor told me that this is Stage 3 cancer, which I believe without looking it up that it's contained within a given region of the body, in this case the abdomen.

Everyone who saw Sandy after surgery remarked about how good she looks. I was surprised too. But she has been in good health for her entire life, has never had any surgery, and is an excellent patient. I spent the entire day with her. Although she's in pain, the morphine drip helps a lot and the pain has been subsiding throughout the afternoon. She's a trouper.

She'll be at the Riverside Medical Center in the OB/GYN section, room 101 through Saturday or Sunday. Riverside phone is 815-933-1671 for anyone who might care to call. Visiting hours are 10am-8:30pm. Sandy will be happy to welcome visitors.

She would especially like to thank everyone who has been praying for her and for the prayer lists that friends and relatives have put her on. This means a lot to both of us.