Rad Onc

Rad onc is short for radiation oncologist. Yes, you learn something new every day.

Skip and I got in to see Dr. Simon asap. It was determined I have two tumors on my brain in the cerebellum. I got to see them, and I know its not cool, but it kinda was cool to look at. We talked for a solid half hour about options and techniques including gamma knife and linear accelerator. he started with gamma knife, "...and they will drill this screws in your head to hold your head still..." pretty sure I looked and him and said "OH HELL NO." Whatever I said from there was all nervous talk and then he proceeded to the next. I was intrigued by both but my anxiety was through the roof. We decided we would go home and do a little research, pray about our decision and talk tomorrow.

I got home and about two hours later, he called me back and shared his concerns. He picked up on my nervousness and anxiety. He did a little digging and talked to some colleagues and that they have determined that the linear accelerator with the face mask would be much more tolerable and non invasive, and would be perfect for me! I was blown away that he would take time after seeing me and show that much care and concern.

I left that afternoon with his cell phone in hand which as you all know, is huge to me. I felt like instead of having to go home and search out this scary decision, God just took hold and made it for us. We are feeling the power of prayer in so many ways. Just another mini-miracle to praise God for.

We have a super detailed MRI this Friday, make the mask sometime next week and we should be doing radiation September 30th. When I tell you also how this date becomes so significant, you will again see the power of perfect timing. Excited to zap these suckers out!

Oh, and if you're wondering, the chemo I would do for breast, doesn't work on getting into the brain.

Rush to the ER

The girls left and all was quiet. Exhausted and overwhelmed, I slid down the front of the refrigerator, sat on the floor and laid my head in Skip's lap. We talked about how amazing the support was and then he looked at me funny. "You need calories baby." So he pulled out a shake, made me drink and we realized I was pretty out of it. I slept fairly well that night and by morning I was starved and had a pretty decent breakfast. We noticed a few things. One, I had zero pain. The first time since I was diagnosed. 2. I was still exhausted, even after sleep. 3. I was slurring my words and had some pretty bad dizziness if I turned my head to quickly to either side. It was like I was drugged and I had not taken a thing.

I called the doctor and we decided it would be best to get my blood pressure taken, but when the oncologist called back and said she was concerned it was my liver function, we decided to head to the ER. I could barely keep my head up, I was completely out of it, and was definitely not myself. It was quite scary wondering, "Is this my liver failing?" Thankfully things progressed quickly and they even were able to do the brain MRI quickly, lots and lots of bloodwork. My dad met us there and we prayed for a miracle while we waited.

Dr. Funk (yes the best name EVER) first he said my blood work looked amazing! Breathe! YES! I have been on a liquid/puree diet since last Wednesday so that was definitely a concern. Not that! My liver function tests were up, but guess what NOT THAT! He said mine were between 100 and 200 and he sees them into the thousands, so maybe I just had a few drinks. Not that! So why did I feel like I was on some lala land drug? Our only guess can be this, mushrooms.

The night before, we got this AMAZING pot of mushroom bisque. Three different kinds and hearty and so tasty. To the point where I may have eaten 2-3 cups worth over an hour. As a kid I was allergic to mushrooms, so the only thing we could think is that I just had a really weird reaction. Otherwise, it was God's way of moving the MRI up so we could get a move on and get some answers. Maybe a little of both.

Guess we we will never know, but I am thankful the liver still works. Praise the Lord!

Ups, Downs, and Gifts

So days go by, we are praying for doctors, where to go, treatment plans, herbal intervention, new diets, new lifestyles, the new normal. It's hard. We wake up every morning in each other's arms and pray, "thank God for another day..." It just seems right. Every day is precious and we are going to honor that as long as he has us breathing on this earth. We have done our share of melting down, even been in some pretty dark places. Every pain scares us and the fatigue is unusual for me. I can't quite grasp that I must slow down, but I do. Sleeping can be an adventure, but like one night, I woke up in no pain, and I stayed up to enjoy it. It's been a battle for sure. I've met a couple more people on the "chemo for life" plan and I rest without a doubt that God intersected our lives for this very reason. He knew we would need one another. I never knew how deep into the pit I would fall, but I felt like every branch I would grab to pull myself up, I would find it breaking and I was down two more. Finally something happened.

Around 7:00 PM on whatever night (at this point I truly have no idea when) Skip came up to get me. We had guests. I knew Laurie had texted me, and it took all the energy I had to make it down to see them. Except it wasn't Laurie, it was #teamnadine. Some precious ladies, wearing HOPE shirts and the biggest smiles I've ever noticed, filled my living room and began to explain what they had been putting together. I remember hearing Laurie say, "we brainstormed and came up with a plan. We kept hearing you say you just wanted to take your kids and leave on vacation. We started a gofundme and in 24 hours we raised $13,000." It brings tears to my eyes as I write this. All I could do was cry. That day had been one of our hardest yet. We had talked about the fears of not seeing my kids graduate, not ever getting better, dying. It was also the best day yet, as that was the day we got out for a bike ride. It was less than an hour after  we explained to our kids that this was the new normal. That I would never finish chemo. That we would stay positive, that it would be okay to cry and that we would have fun whenever we could. That it might be scary and we might cry, but that is okay. Then we stood in a circle in our little kitchen, hands in the middle and prayed hard. Little #teamwall hugged for a long time. Like I said, hard day.

So as this news was being delivered, I can't explain what overcame me, but it felt like someone injected me with mega doses of love. Happy tears flowed like a river. I am not sure I still quite can grasp what happened and how this has come together, but I am so thankful. This gift allows us to do things, take time off and make those precious memories in the time we do have together. I haven't been ready to read all of the messages, but we will. I know it's going to be super emotional. I hope we can repay the kindness to all who have shown so much to us some day. We could not be more humbled and grateful for this world's generosity. You are each an amazing blessing from God. How cool is it that YOU are part of the plan? So glad we've crossed paths. I hope you are encouraged by our story of hope. We are finding it.

PS. My super Nadine shirt is the mac daddy of all shirts. I think I'll be able to fly with it. :D

Meeting the Oncologist

So this was maybe not my favorite part, but here it goes.

I had a liver biopsy, a stent placed in my kidney (did I say how I want to KISS that doctor - mad pain relieved), and PET scan done. I finally am on the road to being released from the hospital, with one last event. Meet the oncologist.

Dr. May was highly referred to us by my breast surgeon and was basically interviewed for us by phone by my plastic surgeon. (He is my doctor daddy. He visited me like two or three times and texts all the time! LOVE!) So if he says okay, we are okay! She came in with not the best of bed side manners, but for now, we are going to say she was holding back as there were people in the room. Why she didn't ask them to leave is beyond me, but I'm giving benefit to the doubt. I truly do not know what she even said, but I remember asking several questions about not understanding parts of the ultrasound and CT and she just kept changing the subject or oddly ignoring me all together. Then, I might be crazy, but I'm pretty she didn't even say good bye! I was speechless.

So, the nurse comes in after her and I being who I am, asked for the PET scan results before leaving. Everyone left, I was discharged and in the wheelchair, and I begin reading. Now you have to understand, I've been reading these things for a long time, but never ever, did I expect what I saw. I knew it was on my liver, I knew it was in my abdomen, I knew it was on my sternum. When I got to the part about the base of the brain, I shuddered, and then as I kept reading. The next lines would break my heart. It was in my bones. Two parts of my spine and in my pelvis. Any hope I had found quickly disappeared. I got in the car looked at skip and said,"this is going to kill me. It's in my bones."

Deep breath. Writing that sucks.

Ok. So since then, I've vented to Dr. May's awesome sauce assistant who has literally called me every day and I think we are going to try again. Dr. May was ON IT when I went to the ER yesterday and we talked for a while which helped. We see her again Thursday and need to PRAY PRAY PRAY the results for the receptors are back. We cannot plan treatment without that confirmation.

Big hugs and love. Bear with me as I chain blog... Hopefully, I can get back to my fluffy/fun self soon without all the mega boring details. :)

Liver Biopsy Party

All morning long, a nurse would write on that whiteboard under TODAYS GOALS: Liver Biopsy. And secretly, I would go up and erase it. I'm sorry, who wants to look up and see that your having a liver biopsy OVER AND OVER! Not me? So that was really fun, especially when I finally told them when it was all over.

When the guys came up to get me they were awesome. I sat up in my bed like a little princess and we rolled down the hallway. I get a little nuts and talk A LOT when I'm nervous, so my mission in life was to make these guys laugh. Well considering I had the best two techs in the hospital with me, that became obvious that we were there to make me feel better about this whole thing. Jamie my bartender was awesome and we laughed and cut up forever. I can't remember the ultrasound tech's name but I find out right before he goes to 12 Stone Church and we have great conversation. There ends up being like 10 people in for this biopsy which blew me away. 

I tend to not react to the drug versaid so I was completely aware of what was going on. YAY! I do have to say now, if I was going to pick lymph node neck biopsy and liver, I may actually choose liver! I definitely hurt once they got down in there, but overall, my angel doctors and nurses were keeping it light and fun. It was really nice to laugh for a while and kind of forget all of the bad things. I guess God knew exactly what I needed just for that moment. It's one of my happiest moments this week.

**The results are back and it has been confirmed this is my breast cancer. They said side by side you cannot tell the strain apart. We are still waiting on the receptors which will allow us to know exactly how to treat this madness.

Finding Hope

Where did the whole hope thing come from? An angel. In the ER I had come back to my room from the bathroom and there sat this darling girl who says in the most amazing Haitian accent, "Hi, my name is Nadine!" She was absolutely adorable and wore a super ER shirt. I instantly started bawling my eyes out. One of my best friends always called me her superwoman and would send me pictures and texts encouraging me during C3. Unfortunately, I could barely talk to her without bawling my eyes out so she just held me repeating,"Do not lose hope. You must remember, our name means hope!! So when we do not have any, you remember what our name means! We are positive." I never saw her after I left the ER, but she was an answer to prayer.

When I was admitted and got my room, they have a white board with the doctor goals and personal goals. They kept asking me what they were but I had nothing. Finally, I knew what it was. It was "Find Hope." That was the only way we were going to survive this.

It Was Supposed to be a Kidney Stone

Just realized that I posted only a few months ago that we were all clear. It seems like I'm in another dimension. Life as normal as we know it just ended and the new normal has begun. What's that? Cancer return #4.

I went in to the doctor thinking I had a kidney stone. The pain would come in waves and every time was more severe. My doctor did and x-ray with no finding and sent me for an Ultrasound. The tech was great but after about a minute asked me when my last scan was. I told her about 9 months ago and she proceeded to ask me if they ever saw anything on my liver. When she hovered in the areas that were unimportant to this particular moment, I started getting anxious. When I finished the CT tech came in and said there was fluid on the kidney and they would need to do a CT. She gave me this amazing mocha chalk drink and sent me home. I let me dog out and packed a bag. I had a feeling I wasn't going home.

After the scan was done, maybe 2 seconds, not even joking, they sent me immediately to my doctor. At this point I could hardly walk and was by myself. I walked in, threw my hands on the receptionist desk and said, "I have to see Dr Williams now. I need a shot NOW!" Thinking back I must have looked like all kinds of crazy. She begged me to have a seat and when I felt like I was forgotten, I walked myself back to the back anyway. Glad I did, I just so happened to walk smack into my doctor.

The gave me a room in the back and I sat in the chair thinking I was about to get sent to the ER for kidney stones. Dr. Williams sits down, and with this goofy grin I still cannot get out of my head, says, "We think your breast cancer has spread to your abdomen." I looked at him and and said, "What!!?? Are you JOKING!!?" This was NOT a funny joke! He wasn't. I found my way to the floor and the walls caved in on me. I cannot quite explain the experience but it was like not being able to escape your worst nightmare.

He led me to his office to get comfortable on his couch while he called my mom. Oh, and they finally gave me that fantastic shot! I remember calling Skip and all I could do was cry. No words came out. Think I finally mustered why I was calling and after that it all becomes a blur.

I remember we stopped by NorthSide imaging so I could grab the Ultrasound and CT report and began reading it while I waited. I had no idea how bad it was. Forty percent of my liver was covered in cancerous lesions, the largest being almost 8cm. There were multiple abdominal masses partially blocking 3 areas of my small intestines. Enlarged lymphnodes and fluid, all playing a part in annoying the kidney. I kept telling Skip, "this is so bad. Oh my God Skip this is so bad."

We head to Emory, and when we arrive there was a five plus hour wait. I walked in the door looked around and thought to myslef there is NO WAY. So I asked nicely how long the wait was and got dragon receptionist. Oh my. This was not happening.

So if you've ever read my history, I have two of the most beautiful, amazing, caring doctor daddy's in the world. I texted them. They had me set up to go the the ER at Northside, Admitted to Internal Medicine, Procedures listed that needed to be done (Oh, the majority of the pain was caused by a mass blocking my urether!) and already had an oncologist lined up to help us. I cannot explain the burden that was lifted just from a couple of doctors texting us, visiting us and basically carrying us through the next couple of days.

It was amazing how bad I had been feeling over the last couple of months. I had had my hysterectomy in May and I was assured there was nothing on my liver and all pathology was benign. So how does cancer grow so fast? It took off in my body. We were dumbfounded. And so the story of how we will beat cancer number 4 begins...