RADIOACTIVE BABY!

I have been waiting to write about my radiation. Thinking that at any moment something dramatic was going to occur and I would have interesting information to pass along. That is not going to happen. I finished 37 rounds of radiation on Wednesday. All I have to show for it is large burnt circles on the front of my chest and on my back. This is where the beams hit my skin.

When I had my first visit with the radiologist he told me a number of side effects that could happen. From nausea, fatigue, painful skin burns, and a burnt esophagus (which would have made eating impossible) all the way to a small chance of being paralyzed because they were radiating my spine. Could you imagine coming this far and then end up paralyzed? After he had his meeting with me I overheard him say to the nurse, "yes, 37 times but let's see how much she can take." I figured I had a rough road ahead.

There were days that I was tired and stayed on the coach the whole day. One Friday night at 3 a.m. I woke with a terrible sore throat and thought, "here we go with the burnt esophagus," only to have it subside 2 days later. So, as of now I am finished with treatment. I have received several phone calls from friends and family congratulating me on ending this long journey. However, to me it feels a bit like a being a baby bird thrown from its nest. The question being, will I fly? Now we just sit back and wait for the next scan in February (ironically, almost exactly one year from the first day I landed in Aspen Valley Hospital) and hope that there is nothing new to report. I do have many other things to share with you so stay posted.

I hope everyone has a great holiday with their families. I am spending this Christmas with Ryan and Ruffus at home. We don't exchange gifts because we already have so much. So this Christmas we are just happy to feel healthy and feel very lucky that we have each other.

Sending big love,
Kristine

The Cold Hard Facts

On November 15th, I had my first scans since the surgery. I was desperate to get the results before I had my port removed. I called several times with no return phone call from the oncologist office, which I let slide because I knew that I was not the emergency of the hour. I remember being the emergency and getting a call back within minutes and now it was some other cancer patient needing the doctor's attention more then I did, thank god. Finally, after the fifth phone call and the night before my port removal, I received a very rushed phone call from the doctor's assistant while she was running for her train. She told me that everything looked great, my scans looked the same as my last ones. This was very disheartening, being that my last scans were before surgery, they couldn't possibly look the same. So I made an appointment to see the doctor to talk to him directly.

When I arrived I went to visit the nurses in the chemo ward and they treated me like a celebrity. Lots of, "You look so amazing" and "we are so happy to see you!" It must be very rewarding for them to have one of their very sick patients walk in with the glow of life instead of the pain of cancer on her face. I received a huge hug from my favorite nurse Linda. I feel like she has become one of my family.

I then went into see the doctor and all I can tell you right now is that the scans looked good. Because they are the first scans after my surgery they are more of a benchmark for us to compare future scans against. He was impressed by my blood counts, which were almost back to normal and he was very optimistic about the future. At the end he asked me if I had any questions. I replied, "if there is one thing I have learned over the last 10 months, it's that there are no real answers to the questions I have." No one can really tell me if this cancer will come back. No one can really tell me how long I may have to live. However, these are the questions any cancer patient wonders. I decided a long time ago to stop asking and to make up my own answers -- they're much better then any a doctor would give. I don't give myself long winded responses that never really touch on the question. Instead I answer bravely, because in these moments you must be brave and a bit over confident, I've beat cancer and will continue to do so. It will not show it's ugly face in my life again. I have won. I want to believe this. I have to believe this. Because any other answer is unacceptable. My trophy is my life and I will live it just like I did before this disease -- like everyday could be my last.

Inspiration

This week I have been inspired by my friends, but let me back up a few months. When I was first diagnosed with cancer back in February, I was talking to my friend Leigh who lives in Florida. She told me about a place called the Hippocrates Health Institute. Her husband Jason went there when he was younger for alternative treatment and he swears it changed his life. Leigh recently ran into one of the directors of Hippocrates at a party. She directly asks him if they believed in their ability to cure cancer through their methods. His reply was, "Absolutely, we are shocked when we can't cure cancer."

Their philosophy is to teach a new way of living through diet and fitness. And the focus is on living foods, also known as a raw diet. Yes, you heard me correctly, raw!! Can you imagine never having cooked foods again? Neither could I before I had cancer, but I knew that at some point I needed to hear what they had to say and at least give it a chance. Many of you out there know me and my love for food, dessert, coffee... pretty much any kind of eating period! However, when you have gone through what I have in the last year, you learn to embrace any possibility that could make you well. I keep telling myself that all I can do is try. If the cancer ever comes back, at least I'll know I did everything possible to beat it.

Anyway, I've been on the fence about going because I know I'm going to miss so many foods that I enjoy. I was really having trouble with the idea of shelling out a bunch of money to spend three weeks learning how to avoiding eating my favorite foods. But then I got a phone call from Leigh. She had decided that she was going to motivate me by helping to raise the funds, and she would do it leading by example. She told me she was starting herself on a raw food diet for 30 days and would have people sponsor her for every day she stuck with it -- like a charity walk. She sent out an e-mail to all of her friends and family and challenged them to do the same thing in their own communities.

Well, Leigh's update is amazing. She started the day after Thanksgiving and has inspired two more of my friends. Elaine in San Francisco and Megan in Portland, Maine are both doing maRAWthons. I've been keeping close tabs on these girls and let me tell you, they're not only sticking to the diet, they're even kind of liking it, which makes me excited to start myself. They say that they have more energy and feel better then they have in a long time. Elaine told me today that the experience has really impacted her and that she may never go back to the way she used to eat.How great is it to have friends like these in my life? I keep asking myself how I got so lucky to have such great friends and family. I just had to share with all of you what these three amazing women are doing. I thought maybe if they could hear words of encouragement from me and all of you out there, it would help them get through their 30 days. If you want too learn more, go to the hippocrates web site at http://www.hippocratesinst.com/
Love ya, Kristine

One day at a time

So much has been happening in the last couple weeks I am not even sure where to start. My biggest news is that last Wednesday I got my port removed from my right hip. I had a lot of mixed feelings about having it removed. It is weird to want to keep something foreign in your body but at this point it had healed over and it didn't give me any pain. The scary part about cancer is that once you have had it, in the back of your mind, you are always going to wonder if it is going to come back or not. The bad part of keeping the port is that you have to have it accessed every six weeks to make sure it has not clotted over....not fun. Also, the fact that no one could really access it easily was always a problem. So with that being said I decided to go for it and have it removed. I have to tell you I was very stressed out about the procedure. When it was put in back in February it was a very painful experience. This is an out patient surgery so they pretty much numb the spot with Novocain and go to work. During the surgery I could feel them shoving the tubing under my skin and I was not a happy camper. It hurt like hell and I was shaking and crying on the table. So you can only imagine how I felt walking back in there to have it removed. Well, I won't drag this out and I will just tell you that it was another classic case of worrying about things before they even happen. The surgery went really well and there was minimal pain. I could feel them stitching me up but it felt like nothing more then maybe a prick to your finger with a needle. I do have some bruising and an incision about two inches. Some of my pants cut right through the area but other then that it was a cake walk in my world of hospital visits. I want to tell you more about radiation but I will save that for next time. Kristine

Thank you is not enough...

Hello everyone, I am so excited to be writing on my own blog after a very long 9 months. I must start by telling you all how amazing YOU are. Thank-you all for your support. I have received so many e-mails, phone calls, cards, gifts, prayers and just plain love that "thank you" can not accurately describe how I feel. I can not tell you how much you have all meant to me over the last nine months. When I first started to receive cards one of my friends was here and she took ribbons and attached all of the cards down the ribbons and hung them on the wall of my bedroom. At one point almost everyone of my walls was filled with cards and if I had continued the card hanging I don't think I would have an empty wall in my house. I eventually took the cards down and they are now overflowing in a shopping bag in my bedroom. Every now and then when I am feeling down about this crazy situation I grab a handful of cards and remember everyone out there rooting for me. You all give me so much strength! The crazy part about being diagnosed with cancer is that you find out how much good there is in the world. People that have not even met me but send support in so many ways. I am so blown away by these special people. After my second round of chemo my parents were here and I remember telling my dad that I was the luckiest girl I knew. He kind of looked at me like I was crazy but I truly feel that I am blessed to have so many amazing friends and family. I read a quote the other day that said, "there is a big difference between making a large amount of money and being rich." I, my friends, am rich!!

During the last year our home had a revolving door. One of my sisters would leave and one of my friends would come the next day. I went to the airport so many times this year and yet hardly ever left the state. My mother practically moved in this past year trying to help in any way she could. I have always been extremely independent and it has taken some getting used to needing people. However, everyone that came made it seem so effortless when I know in fact it was not. You acted like you felt lucky to be here to take care of me. Some of my friends came during my good weeks when I wasn't feeling so bad just to keep my spirits up. Some came on weeks I was in chemo and knew I would never even remember they were there. I have always known that I have a great family and amazing friends but you all proved to be more then I could ever imagine.

I can not write my first blog and not mention the most amazing person in my life. Ryan has been a godsend. To be honest we have been together for eight years and I never knew he could take care of me the way he has over the last year. I am not sure what I would have done without him. He has more patience and grace than anyone I have ever met, and let's not forget his mean writing skills. I keep asking myself how I got so lucky. I will tell you all that you don't know how much someone means to you until you realize you might lose them. Ryan and I got to find out first hand and trust me when I say that you need to tell that special person in your life that you love them at every opportunity. So I will take this opportunity to tell Ryan, I love you and that you mean the world to me and last but not least I owe you.........my life. Kristine

11/19 - Sorry it's Been a While

Kristine continues to receive daily radiation treatments that will last through the middle of December. They’re fairly routine and quick, each treatment lasting only a few minutes. She lays in a long CT scan like machine with her arm and shoulder in a custom fitted mold to ensure exact repeatability of each localized treatment. A large box is lowered onto her shoulder aligning with several pinpoint tattoo marks that have been permanently inked onto Kristine’s skin, again to ensure exactness.

Radiation doesn't have many side effects especially in the location Kristine is receiving it. Her right shoulder has developed a slight redness and her skin will continue to darken in the treated area. The redness will likely recede but could last permanently. To answer a question that comes up a lot, there’s little to no risk of infertility since the radiation is not being administered anywhere near the abdomen or groin. There is a chance that her esophagus could be “burned” since the treatment is occurring so close to Kristine’s throat. If her throat were affected it could cause painful swallowing for a short time and those who experience this side effect often lose a good deal of weight because they avoid the pain that eating brings. The doctor is careful at each appointment to ask Kristine if she’s experiencing any pain from swallowing or eating. So far she is fortunate that this has not been an issue.

Kristine’s physical strength is improving all the time, but is still a long way from where it used to be. This is evident each time she pushes to climb the stairs or walk at a usual pace, as she herself forgets her current limits -- or perhaps just refuses to accept them. The little bit of hair that had grown back fell out again a few weeks after her final cycle of chemo and has been stubborn to show any sign of regeneration since. No one can really explain this other than to say that, “it can take time.”

People who see Kristine these days comment on how amazing she looks and how vibrant she is. These statements have ceased to be qualified on a relative scale of someone who, “…has been through what she’s been through” and instead are made using a normal, healthy person’s scale, the kind of scale reserved for friends without cancer. I think this observation illustrates just how well Kristine is doing.


There are many things that Kristine now avoids and probably will for some time. Things that developed a strong association to the emotional and physical stress that came with nine months of cancer therapy. The smell and taste of lemon from the candies she sucked on to mask the metallic taste of saline port injections, for example, bring back discomforting memories.

For me, blogging has come to have a similar association. As much as it has been a healthy outlet for me and a helpful tool to keep you all informed, when I sit down to write one of these postings I’m forced to confront truths that seem easier to avoid -- the reality of Kristine’s struggles and the uncertainty of what the future holds.

My hiatus from blogging for the past five weeks was not meant to be irresponsible or disrespectful in anyway, and I apologize if it seemed that way. The break was a way for me to embrace a little bit of normalcy and more importantly to focus on the one thing that matters most, Kristine. The support you have all shown to Kristine and I has been overwhelming. Your generosity and genuine concern have been extraordinary. But I also have to thank you for your patience with my inconsistent communication as Kristine and I try to make sense out of the next phase of our lives.

I do think that as we enter this new phase it’s only fitting that Kristine begin contributing her voice to the blog. So, with that, you will be hearing a little less from me and a lot more from the woman who has been a driving force and source of inspiration to me and to so many others. Kristine plans to start updating the site regularly to meet the needs of her loyal “fan base” and to continue to tell her story into its next chapter.

10/16 - Wednesday

According to her original treatment schedule Kristine was due to start the second of her four remaining chemotherapy cycles this week. But Monday came and went without a drop of blood drawn, without an anxious night lain sleepless and without a single dose of IFex, Adriamycin, Mesna, Ativan, Emend, Heparin, Compazine, Zofran, Aloxy, Decadron nor any other chemotherapy drug administered. This is because Kristine will not be continuing any further chemotherapy treatment.

You'll recall that Kristine was experiencing some pretty heavy hallucinations during her last cycle. Well, within a few days after treatment her hallucinations subsided, but her feeling of distress lingered with the vivid memories held of the days passed. Kristine had convinced herself that she could not endure another cycle. She hadn't even fully recovered from one round of treatment and already she was terrified of the next.

Before her next doctor visit Kristine had considered broaching, with Dr. Staddon, the idea of discontinuing her chemotherapy treatment, or at least seeking alternative options. Although she was entirely serious about the prospect of stopping, it was a complete surprise to both of us when Dr. Staddon agreed. His rational was simple. It was not O.K. for her to be experiencing prolonged hallucinations. And where some of Kristine's thoughts, at times, had become suicidal, he felt it imperative to end the medication. Dr. Staddon also cited some rare cases where people had not come out of their altered mind states.

What shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone is Kristine's overwhelming relief. She was elated at the thought of not having to endure another grueling regiment. At the same time, however, the uncertainty that followed has been almost equally unsettling. Of course, there's the 30 days of radiation that will soon begin. But if what everyone says is true, the procedure promises to be a breeze relative to the chemo. But what then? Is this really the end? What if there is still tumor left behind even after this round of chemo? What if there are still microscopic cells that escape the radiation?

A barrage of "what if" questions continue to penetrate Kristine's thoughts, even as she attempts to stay positive. The crew cut length hair that had grown in now falls out in clumps, just another cruel reminder. But remaining true to herself, Kristine is as resilient as ever. She's taking things in stride, staying positive and embracing her life for what it is.

We've reached the Wednesday of this ordeal - our metaphorical hump day. We're almost through the end of the week and looking forward to a Friday that is long overdue.

9/30 - Hallucinations

Little wooden men; a room full of fairies; shark attacks; anonymous, incessant talking. These are just a few of the hallucinations and thoughts that have haunted Kristine over the past week in what has proven to be her most emotionally trying cycle.

The thoughts started Thursday when uncontrollable images and sounds began taking control of Kristine's mind. She tossed in bed complaining, "they won't stop talking, I can't make them stop." She would say that the room was full of people, sitting on the bed or standing all around her. Sometimes the voices threatened to take her away and other times they just spoke to one another about her.

Kristine could not relax and could not sleep. Her mind spun out of control sending her into a desperate emotional state. We turned on the sound machine, but the crashing ocean waves that had previously pacified her became a playground for the relentless creatures who occupied her every thought. While she will look back on some of the images with laughter -- for example, David Hasselhoff posing as the grim reaper -- the collective experience is one that she is already trying to forget.

The nurses at the cancer center were not surprised by the hallucinations. They are apparently a side effect of the chemo drug IFEX. And although it seems strange that this is the first time Kristine has experienced this particular side effect, we've learned quickly through the course of this process that nothing is constant -- there always seems to be a new surprise when you least expect it.

By Friday, Kristine had just about had enough. Her mother and a couple of the nurses found themselves convincing Kristine to stay and finish her treatment after she had threatened to quit and go home. I assumed at the time that this was an emotional climax spawned by frustration and exhaustion -- a passing reaction. I now understand that the notion of discontinuing treatment, at least in its current form, is one that Kristine is taking very seriously. With her mind returned, clear and lucid, she expresses this desire definitively. She's hit the wall in the 20th mile of this marathon and is having trouble imagining the finish line.

The next few days will determine just how serious Kristine is about not receiving more chemo. She stated today that she plans to call our oncologist on Monday to give him the heads up on what she's thinking prior to her nadir appointment on Tuesday. My guess is that he'll not be greatly surprised by this, I'm sure Kristine is not the first to approach him with a request to shift course in treatment.

I'll keep you posted with the doctor's response.

9/25 - The Third Stage

Kristine is back in chemotherapy this week. It is the first of four cycles that she'll undergo lasting through the end of the year. The first two days have been a little tough on her. She has been sleeping for most of the day. She woke up this evening thinking it was Wednesday. Toward the end of her last set of cycles it was almost as if she had built up some immunity to all the medication. This was clearly a short term effect, which is probably for the best since this isn't the kind of thing that anyone should get used to.

The cycles are a little longer this time (5 days instead of 4) and the chemo drugs while fewer are less intense. Kristine's mom is in town for this cycle. It is always a big help to have her here. This is especially so this cycle since I am working through the week.

I'll keep you updated on Kristine's progress.

9/5 - Another Few Months

It has been a long, exhausting road. Kristine has spent half of a year either consumed by an intense chemotherapy regiment or weakened by its occupation of her body. She has endured the physical demands of a major surgery to one of life's critical organs as well as a number of major blood vessels. Through all of this she has maintained a tremendous level of courage, fortitude and resolve. Although I doubt she knows any other way to live her life.

But all the needles, hospital visits, time lost and time erased, pain, discomfort, sleeplessness and general lack of normalcy over this extended period of time has not occurred without taking a toll. While the scars that run down Kristine's chest have healed well in just a couple of weeks, the process of healing mentally is slow and easily thrown off course. And nothing can mess with the mind quite like dealing with news of additional treatment.

We met with Dr. Staddon today for the first time since Kristine's surgery. He was happy with the outcome of the pathology studies that showed 90% of the resected tumor to be dead. He commented on how amazing Kristine was doing clinically for someone who had just recently had the operation she did. And he outlined the next steps in Kristine's treatment plan.

Although we knew from the outcome of the surgery that radiation would be necessary in a small area near Kristine's shoulder and that additional chemotherapy cycles would be necessary (or at least highly recommended) to reduce the likelihood of future recurrence, neither of us was prepared to hear it in such certain terms. The doctor's plan includes 4 additional cycles of chemo that will begin on September 24th -- this time one drug (Ifex) instead of two, over five days instead of four, every third week. Kristine will also receive local radiation once everyday for a full month beginning in October.

The reality of another 3+ months of this tiring routine hit Kristine hard -- the progress of mental healing almost immediately blocked if not reversed. For me the sadness and disappointment in Kristine's eyes coupled with my own recognition of the difficulties in managing her treatment schedule, my job and the daily responsibilities of life sent a sharp and overwhelming stress coursing through my system.

But like everything else we have been through, we will manage our way through this, keeping perspective on the fact that this is all quite positive a prognosis and there seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel. As Kristine said to me the other day, shortly after we had finished a fairly trivial argument stemming from pure exhaustion and frustration, "we're doing OK."

We're doing O.K.

9/3 - Relaxing Labor Day

Kristine and I have been taking it easy these past few days after a couple of hectic weeks. Kristine is doing well but is still in some pain. She has been taking short walks to build up her energy and climbing the stairs is becoming less and less strenuous -- although she still needs to stop to catch her breath at the top.


Kristine's parents headed back to Michigan on Sunday morning to enjoy the last weeks of summer. Although it's nice to have the house to ourselves again, we'll both miss the evening card games and the help that they provided during their stay here.

With family gone and me at work, Kristine will be welcoming company during this next week to pass the time and provide emotional support. So, if you're in the area and feel like spending some quality time with Kristine, feel free to call ahead and pay a visit.

8/28 - Home

Kristine came home on Tuesday evening to the comfort of more familiar surroundings -- although the hospital surrounds have become pretty familiar these days. Discharge did not come without some additional poking and prodding. X-rays taken of Kristine's chest showed a build up of fluid on her lungs. To remove the liquid a long needle was be inserted into her back to draw off the liquid. Kristine said it was excruciatingly painful, but admitted that her normally high pain tolerance has decreased over the past week -- there's only so much one person can take.

Kristine has certainly hit a wall. She is tired, uncomfortable and above all in a lot of pain. Hopefully, being home will help put her mind at ease and aid in her recovery.

8/26 - Queen of Hearts

Kristine is doing well, but is in a bit more pain than she has been in the prior few days despite the pain medication. Our friend Roey stopped by for a short visit in the morning and in the afternoon Kristine got out of bed for a short walk around the floor. In fact, she walked out to the waiting room and played a game of cards with her parents and me. The game was a good distraction. She was exhausted by the time she made it back to her bed.

We are all glad to be there to talk and entertain her; give emotional support as she struggles with her reality; and rub her back, legs and feet to take her mind off the pain.

8/25 - I C U Later

We arrived in the ICU for the start of visiting hours (12 noon) and Kristine was being wheeled up to the new room. She had a tough morning, but by 1 o'clock she was in better spirits. She was able to get a short walk in before we left for the night, a positive step forward in her recovery process. Her nurses have been great on the new floor. They have been very attentive, almost more so than in the ICU.

We are not sure how much longer she will need to be in the hospital, it all depends on how she does in the next couple of days. Dr. Bridges was planning to check on Sunday evening so we might know more when we see him.

8/24 - One More Night in the ICU

Kristine is doing really well. Her drainage tubes were removed this morning, which seemed to help her expel the fluid in her lungs more easily, a good sign of progress. She just came off of her blood pressure medication this evening so she will be monitored one more night in the ICU at Pennsylvania Hospital and will likely move to a regular floor tomorrow. They've not yet had her walking, just sitting up in a chair once a day for an hour or so.

Dr. Bridges and Dr. Shrager (the heart and vascular surgeons, respectively) each stopped by Kristine's room to check on her today. They are very pleased with the results of the surgery and with Kristine's progress.

Dr. Staddon also stopped by in the morning to visit Kristine (he has been by a few times this past week). He is very happy with what the surgical team was able to accomplish -- remarking that they got 99% of tumor and feels confident that what's left is manageable through radiation and additional chemotherapy treatments. Dr. Staddon praised the surgical team remarking that their combined skill and expertise allowed them to complete in 8 hours what would have normally been a 16 hour procedure (likely exaggerated for affect but his point and his high regard for the surgeons is clear).

8/23 - Still in the ICU

Kristine will spend another night in the ICU tonight for close monitoring. Her blood pressure is still quite low and she is still draining a lot of fluids from her chest cavity. She is doing well overall, but coughing up the fluid in her lungs is painful and irritating. Although she's disappointed that she can't see more visitors while in intensive care, she's enjoying the extra comfort, staff attention and rest.

We will see how things go tomorrow.

8/22 - A Day After Surgery

We took advantage of every available visiting hour in the ICU today, 12pm -6pm and then 8pm-9pm. Kristine seemed to improve with every hour that passed. We first saw her in the morning while she was still intubated and unable to speak -- the respirator and feeding tubes reaching down into her lungs and stomach through her mouth. When asked how she was doing she pointed to the tubes in her mouth and then turned her thumb down expressing her discomfort.

Even while on pain medication she became more lucid and interactive throughout the day, although she did a good bit of sleeping. Once she was extubated she felt better, however, she said that the experience of having the tubes pulled from her throat was THE most terrible thing she had ever felt.

There's still a lot of fluid in her lungs from surgery and from intubation. She needs to expel the fluid by coughing, a process that is hard for us to watch, but most certainly and excruciatingly painful for Kristine to experience. With each cough she clasps her heart shaped pillow, which the hospital gives to patients for this very purpose, against her chest to ease the pain. It is a slow, weak ragged cough that is repeated several times, often for several minutes, until relief is found.

Kristine will be in the ICU for another day. She will move to a regular floor tomorrow evening, provided that she continues to recover as planned.

8/21 - Final Words for the Day

Well if you're just checking in, a lot has happened in the last 14+ hours. I have included updates throughout the day, so be sure to read all 5 posts for 8/21 below.

We saw Kristine in the ICU after her surgery. She was still anesthetized and unresponsive. The head nurse and the surgical assistant said that she would begin to respond sometime tonight as they closely monitor her vital signs and condition. Since we were of no use at the hospital we came back to the house to get some sleep and get ready for tomorrow.

P.S. If you would like to send a message to Kristine either on the blog or to my email (ryan_macdonald@msn.com) I can read them to her when she is more aware. Remember to wish her a Happy Birthday!

P.P.S. I found an great career profile on our heart surgeon Dr. Bridges in the Harvard-MIT Division of Health Sciences and Technology Newsletter (see page 8-9). http://hst.mit.edu/images/upload/HST_Connector_Winter06.pdf

8/21 - 5:00pm, 2nd Phase Successful

Dr. Bridges entered the waiting room at 5:oo pm with a pleasant look on his face. He regretted not having a graphic to aid in his explanation, but nonetheless walked us through his procedure. The tumor, although extending into the atrium (upper right chamber of the heart) was not attached to the main atrial wall. It was, however, attached to the superior vena cava (SVC), which leads directly into the atrium of the heart. Previously, Dr. Bridges had thought that the tumor might be attached only to a small degree of the vessel wall. However, examining the vessel directly he found that the tumor had infiltrated a 360 degree portion of the SVC and did so over a large section of the stump of this vessel. Since they could not salvage any of the vessel without the risk of leaving cancer cells behind, Dr. Bridges removed a significant portion of the SVC and, using a vein from Kristine's leg, reconstructed a new pathway for the blood to flow into the heart (i.e., essentially "bypassing" the missing vein with a new one).

The doctor felt that the surgery was successful. He articulated that a small risk exists that the new bypassed vein could experience increased clotting at the connection point (only a 10% likelihood) and that Kristine may see a minor amount of permanent swelling in her right arm (likely unnoticeable). He told us that he assisted Dr. Shrager in the initial portion of the surgery and clarified that it was not time that prevented them from resecting the last bit of tumor mass in Kristine's shoulder, but rather the risk of getting into deep chasing an unknown section of tumor mass. Future radiation will likely be necessary to "zap" the remaining mass.

The surgical team is currently wiring Kristine's ribs back to her sternum (breastbone) and stitching her incision together (they do this using plastic surgery techniques to minimize scaring --"staples" are a thing of the past for those of you who are wondering). We should get to see Kristine in recovery soon.

8/21 - 4:00pm, Oprah

Ironically, Oprah is on television in the waiting room with a special segment focusing on heart conditions and disease.

8/21 - 2:15pm, 1st Half Complete

There are two parts to Kristine's surgery today. The first is to resect any remaining tumor from Kristine's right subclavian vein (the vein that runs underneath the clavicle or collarbone). The second is to remove tumor from the right atrium of her heart and the superior vena cava (the major vein the dumps blood into the heart from the upper half of the body).

Dr. Shrager, the vascular surgeon, operated first, performing the resection of tumor from the subclavian vein. When we met with Dr. Shrager on Monday (the day before Kristine's surgery) he indicated that he would likely need to permanently remove Kristine's right clavicle bone in order to properly access the vein and confidently remove all tumor mass. He explained that this was very typical in operating on this particular vein due to its partially obscured location behind the bone. He also explained that the bone is not entirely necessary and removal would inhibit only extreme activities (for example a tennis serve). As you can probably image, Kristine was less than thrilled with this potential outcome especially as a last minute development. After discussing further with the doctor, he assured us that he would do everything he could to save the bone short of compromising complete removal of any tumor cells.

Dr. Shrager called us out of the waiting room at around 1:45. He explained that he had found four small independent masses along the inside of the vein. Fortunately the vein was exposed enough that it did not require removal of the bone -- news that Kristine will certainly appreciate and that the Becker's and I were happy to hear. Unfortunately there is still a small fourth mass in the vein around the shoulder that Dr. Shrager could not access and had to leave behind. To paraphrase the doctor's words, she would not be able to take anymore. We assumed this to mean that time was a factor since the surgery had already gone 4 hours with another 3-4 hour heart surgery still ahead. We will be discussing options regarding this small tumor at a later point.

As for right now, Dr. Bridges has begun the heart portion of the surgery. We are anxious to hear his report but don't expect any news until around 5 or 5:30pm.

Until then,
Ryan

8/21 - 9:46am, The First Incision

The surgery began at 9:46am. One of the critical care nurses came out to let us know that Kristine was doing well, to set our expectations on the stages of surgery and to let us know that the first incision had been made.

8/21 - 8:21am, Birthday Surgery

Here we are, the day of surgery and in the waiting room we are doing our best to calm our anxiety. Kristine, whom had to be nervous, didn't show it as she was wheeled into the operating room on her transport bed. She entered preop at 7:35 and prep at 8:12 (we can track her progress on a screen in the waiting room). Surgery has not yet begun.

The benefit event was a great success with a surprisingly good turnout given the relatively short notice and overlap with one of the busiest vacation periods of the summer. We owe a tremendous amount of thanks to Roey, Simone, Matt and Trevor for their efforts in organizing and pulling off such a great event. We also owe our gratitude to all who attended and to those who sent their blessings.

The picture above shows the wristband that was given out at the benefit. The words "Trust Life" are imprinted on it. This expression is one Kristine often uses when life take its own course without regard for the controls we put in place to manipulate it in our favor. When things take an unfavorable turn she says, "sometimes you just need to let go and trust life." It's an expression that she lives by and one that has never been so true as it has been in the last sixth months.

The surgery is scheduled to last anywhere from 4 to 6 hours. I'll be blogging periodically throughout the day as we get updates. Keep Kristine in your thoughts and prayers.

Ryan

8/15 - Silent Auction Event

The silent auction items have been finalized for the benefit.

_________________AUCTION ITEMS_____________________

Loews Coronado (San Diego)
2 night stay in deluxe accommodations and complimentary Market Café breakfast for two. Expires 8/30/08
http://www.loewshotels.com/en/Hotels/Coronado-Bay-Resort/Overview.aspx

The Westin Alexandria (Virginia)
2 night weekend stay. Opens November 1, 2007
www.westin.com/alexandria

2 One Hour Tennis Lessons with Dan Gagnon
Dan teaches at the Cherry Hill Health and Racquet Club (and will do your lesson there, no guest fee required). He is PTR certified and has 14 years of teaching experience (and is Roey’s favorite instructor)

Closet Storage & Concepts
$2,000 towards the purchase of a Custom Closet
http://www.closetandstorageconcepts.com/

Loews Annapolis Hotel (Maryland)
Two complimentary nights, concierge service for in-town touring, restaurants and shopping arrangements. Expires 8/31/08
http://www.loewshotels.com/en/Hotels/Annapolis-Hotel/Overview.aspx

5 One Hour Personal Training Sessions with Allen Harvin
Allen has been training for 25 years and is NASM and ACE certified. An athlete himself, he was in Superbowl XX playing for the Washington Redskins. He will come to your house, meet you at a park, in your gym etc… in the South Jersey or Philadelphia area.

San Francisco Weekend
2 nights accommodation at the Hyatt Regency, Limo pick up from either SFO or Oakland airport via Grand Limousine, tour of choice by Great Pacific Tour, Facial by Raya.
http://www.sanfranciscoregency.hyatt.com/
http://www.greatpacifictour.com/
http://sanfrancisco.citysearch.com/profile/864179/

Contractor for a Day
Have a full day of Inside & Out Property Services work. A crew of three specializing in plumbing & electric, basement finishing, roof repair, custom kitchens & baths, dry wall, tile work, lighting, materials expertise, siding installation & repair, etc…or just handy man type jobs. You choose.

Professional Photography Portrait Session by Sean Novak
Sean will travel to Northern Delaware, Philadelphia and Southern Jersey to meet you in a scenic location for an hour portrait session (family/engagement/children etc.) He also has a studio in Delaware.
With $200 reprint credits, this is valued at ~$450.
http://www.seannovak.com/

Philadelphia Opera Tickets
2 complimentary tickets to Vincenzo Bellini Norma on Wednesday, April 16th, 2008 at 7:30 pm
http://www.operaphilly.com/

Philadelphia Flyers Autographed Puck
#17 Jeff Carter NHL certified puck

The Madison, A Loews Hotel (Washington DC)
One night stay at this beautiful hotel.
http://www.loewshotels.com/en/Hotels/The-Madison-Hotel/Overview.aspx

8/12 - The Surgery Date is Set

Kristine's surgery is scheduled for a week from this Tuesday. A date that happens to fall on Kristine's birthday. She's handling this news surprisingly well for someone to whom a birthday is the most important day of the year. I guess she figures there could be no better birthday gift than a rebirth -- life renewed with a healthy future in front of her.

She's in Michigan this week visiting her parents and sister. It's a good opportunity for her to relax, have some fun and generally keep her mind off what's to come.

We meet with the heart surgeon again this coming Friday and the vascular surgeon for the first time the following Monday. The surgery is the very next day. With all the dates booked, there is a sudden and palpable feeling of reality. And while I'm certainly feeling some anxiety, I can only image how Kristine must be feeling as every possible (as well as unlikely) scenario runs through her mind.

-------

On another note, Roey and Simone, the organizers of Kristine's benefit this Saturday, will be posting silent auction items to the blog on Friday for those of you who can't make it. From what I hear there are some pretty great items that have been donated by local and national businesses.

If you're interested in bidding on any of the items, Roey's email will be listed on the blog. Simply email her your bid, include your name and it will remain silent until the end of the benefit. They will provide all the details on Friday.

8/7 - Announcement

Our friends have graciously organized a benefit in Kristine's honor and have asked that I post the invitation on the blog. Kristine didn't have many of your email addresses, but the invitation is open. (Apologies to those for whom this is a little last minute).

When: Saturday, August 18, 12:30PM

8/7 - MD Affirmation

It is clear entering any one of the many buildings that make up the vast MD Anderson Cancer Center that you are in a special place. From the building's directory board, which list an exhaustive collection of cancer disciplines, to the diverse groups of people whom have congregated here in search of answers from around the world, there is a unique energy.

At around 8:15 am we arrived at 1515 Holcombe Boulevard (coincidentally the same street number as Kristine's cousin, Cris, with whom we stayed during our visit). We spent about 20 minutes finding our way around the hospital building. Upon arrival to the Sarcoma Center, we completed the standard set of paperwork and procedures before being placed in the examination room. And Kristine answered the standard set of questions regarding her medical history, treatment timeline and symptoms, first for the Primary Nurse and then again for Physician's Assistant.

Dr. Shreyaskumar Patel, Director for the MDA Sarcoma Center, entered the room. We immediately got a sense for his dry wit in his opening reference to his relationship to Dr. Staddon and their recent discussion about Kristine's case. He preempted our questions with a long monologue about his thoughts on Kristine's cancer. He was deliberate and decisive as he walked us through his evaluation. He addressed Kristine's case in separate parts, taking the time at each stage to focus on the most probable scenario and his advised solution.

Generally speaking, Dr. Patel’s evaluation and recommended treatment plan were consistent with our current approach. He agreed with Kristine's current diagnosis and acknowledged that the treatment was having a positive effect in reducing the tumors based on his own review of her scans. However, in his opinion, he felt that we could be more aggressive with treatment in a couple of key areas.

First, he felt that the eight weeks between Kristine's last chemotherapy and her surgery was too long. Even if the tumor appears to be inactive there is a small chance that active cells still exist. And even this minor risk, he felt, was worth more aggressive tactics to prevent future recurrence. He recommended that Kristine either receive another cycle of "adjusted" chemotherapy before her surgery (using only one of the two drugs Kristine had been getting) or move up the date of her surgery.

On the matter of surgery, he encouraged us to stay the course. He, naturally, had a bias toward the surgeons he most frequently works with, but he felt that it was in our best interest to avoid (a) losing more time (the time it inevitably takes to move through a new health system) and (b) potentially spending more money (our insurance provider declined to cover our visit to MD Anderson, future treatment at the center would require a fight). Although Kristine and I had reached a similar conclusion before our meeting -- that she would be best to get surgery in PA based on time and insurance -- the doctor gave us the validation we needed.

Dr. Patel also addressed the specifics of surgery. He confirmed Dr. Staddon's opinion that surgery was a necessary next step not only in the Heart but also in the vein beneath the clavicle. His justification was simple. No doctor can be absolutely certain that any of these apparent masses is active tumor. Therefore the most logical approach, in his opinion, is to be aggressive and remove the "monster," as he put it.

We had several questions, but there was one in particular to which we got a surprising response. We were curious to get his opinion on treatment (chemotherapy or otherwise) after surgery. Dr. Staddon had not ruled out post-surgical chemotherapy, but he had not stressed its necessity either. Dr. Patel, on the other hand, once again recommended an aggressive approach. He strongly suggested that Kristine receive 2 to 4 cycles of chemo after surgery.

Overall, we were both satisfied with the outcome. Dr. Patel supported Kristine’s current treatment path both clinically and surgically. However, he suggested a slightly more aggressive treatment schedule to minimize even the smallest risk of recurrence. A few hours after our appointment, Kristine got a call from Dr. Staddon’s office. Dr. Patel had called Dr. Staddon directly to convey his thoughts. In turn, Dr. Staddon, in agreement with his assessment, put the wheels in motion to move Kristine’s schedule up. It was interesting to us to see just how quickly this transaction occurred. It highlights one of the major faults of our health system – that the patient has to get a second opinion in order to force doctors to cross-collaborate and share opinions.

As for Kristine, she is landing somewhere in the middle, wishing to take a moderate stance. Although she subscribes to the aggressive tactics suggested by Dr. Patel, she also believes that reacting at this point could cause more harm. Her surgery will likely move up one week (potentially overlapping with her birthday) and she will likely seek to continue some form of chemotherapy treatment after surgery (this still needs to be discussed with Dr. Staddon).

Ryan

8/2 - Lucky Leo

Those who know Kristine (or any Leo for that matter), are abundantly aware that August is more than just a month on which her birthday falls. It's a serious of days that collectively represent her "birth period." And there is no more important time throughout the year (for her or anyone else around her) than this one. So it should come as no surprise that in these early days of August, Kristine has been blessed with a run of great news and fortune.

Dr. Staddon's office contacted Kristine today regarding the results of her PET scan. What did the scans show? Nothing... the scans showed no trace of active tumor anywhere. The logical explanation, according to Staddon's RN assistant, is that the tumor is dead. This isn't to say that Kristine is completely out of the woods, but it certainly validates the success of her treatment and future prognosis.

Kristine also heard back from MD Anderson. I'm not sure if it was the persuasion of Dr. Staddon, the persistence of Kristine's daily calls to the hospital or the threat of the two of us camped out in their offices for two days, but something worked. Despite a 0% predicted likelihood from the hospital of getting an appointment any sooner than 3 weeks out, Kristine is now scheduled to see Dr. Patel this coming Monday morning at 9am.

I'm not really one to believe in astrology. However, there is no other explanation for this serious of good fortune other than the luck that a Leo draws to them during their birth month.

7/31 - Rat-tatoo-lle

On Monday, Kristine decided to use her head as a canvas and got a tattoo. Actually just a henna tattoo, which is like a thick ink that temporarily stains the skin. I thought it was fun walking around the city and seeing peoples' reactions. Not just their reactions to the tattoo, but also to Kristine's bald head, since this was really the first time that she had "exposed" herself in public.

Kristine's PET scan was seamless. We should hear back from Dr. Staddon's office with the results in the next couple of days.

Our plans for traveling to Houston have morphed a bit. Kristine's cousin Cris was able to get an inside tip from her family's doctor who works at MDA. She advised us of the hospital's strict policy for reading biopsy slides --they require a full 5 days to process them. So, instead of sitting in the office on Thursday and Friday, we are shifting our office stake-out to Monday and Tuesday in hopes of improving our odds at seeing the Oncologist.

Ryan

7/29 - PET Scans and 2nd Opinions

It's been a while since my last post (21 days to be exact) and not a day has gone by without Kristine reminding me of my negligence in posting to the blog. This is not because she is particularly excited to read what I have to say about her day to day activities, but rather that she is diligently passing along your feedback, the most common and frequent of which is, "I check the blog every day. Why has Ryan not written?" Well to appease this restless blogience (a blog audience) Kristine and I have come up with a solution. I will continue to write from time to time. However, since Kristine has some extra time on her hands she has decided to take on some of the regular postings. I hope you enjoy. As for today, it's been so long that I hardly know where to begin.

In my previous post, Kristine had just finished her last cycle of treatment. She took the first week or so to recover and rest, but more recently is back to her old self -- running from place to place, visiting friends and enjoying her renewed energy. Her thrush continues to linger and her hair is slow to return, but otherwise she seems full of health and has started to gain some weight back. Kristine jokes that she doesn't feel like anything is wrong with her at all.

Her parents returned to Michigan after spending a few weeks with us (her mother was here during Kristine's final chemotherapy cycle). They plan to return for Kristine's surgery, which will likely take place in late August. I know it means a great deal to Kristine (and to me) that they've taken so much time to help and be here for support.

Kristine has also had a couple of other friends come into visit from out of town. One in particular is worth a special mention. Barbara, a friend from when she Kristine lived in San Diego, wins the award for most diligent supporter. She has sent a card every single day since Kristine was first diagnosed with cancer. I wouldn't be surprised if the post office makes her an honorary spokeswoman.

Last week we met with Dr. Staddon to review Kristine's latest round of CT scans and to discuss next steps. Kristine, her parents and I left the office feeling positive about the conversation we had. Dr. Staddon was very pleased with the CT scan results. Although there was no major change reported in the size of the heart tumor from the previous scan, he felt that this was a good indication that the mass was inactive or dead. He also gave us more confidence regarding the potential, but ambiguous, mass in Kristine's shoulder, under her clavicle. This presentation has been an ongoing source of uncertainty. Scan results have communicated mixed information about a potential mass in this area interpreting it to be either scarring or tumor. The latest report stated, "In the region of the previously described enhancing soft tissue lesion located posterior to the right distal clavicle there is a small amount of residual soft tissue that may represent residual tumor vs. scarring." The uncertainty is related to just how far up Kristine's veins the tumor extends. Dr. Staddon articulated that no risk should be taken and that surgery should seek to extract whatever soft tissue is present in this vein at the same time the heart tumor is being extracted. It was a relief to discuss this topic with a definitive response from Dr. Staddon. Kristine especially felt more confident.

As for next steps, several things were discussed with Dr. Staddon. We discussed scheduling a follow up appointment with our heart surgeon, Dr. Bridges. In addition, we would need to meet with a vascular surgeon to discuss extraction of the soft tissue from the vein. Also on the agenda of topics was the potential for a PET scan. This is an imaging procedure that measures glucose metabolism of cells. Since cancer cells utilize glucose at a faster rate than other cells, the scan can differentiate malignant cells from healthy cells. The scan measures the uptake rate of malignant cells to determine how rapidly they are growing, if at all. We have long know that our insurance provider will not cover a PET scan for Kristine's particular form of cancer. However, we are willing to cover the cost in an effort to get the most complete understanding possible of Kristine's situation. With the research rate that Dr. Staddon can secure, the cost is actually not very high. Kristine is scheduled to have the procedure done on Monday and results will follow on Wednesday.

While Kristine will proceed with taking all necessary steps to receive proper care in Philadelphia, we have also been working to get a second opinion at MD Anderson in Houston. This has been challenging to say the least. As a large hospital, it will not commit to an appointment until all referrals have been approved. However, it's an out-of-network provider which requires us to prove that it's a medical necessity for Kristine to receive an opinion from this particular institution. We are justified based on her rare form of cancer and still rarer presentation of the disease, but getting through the bureaucracy to prove this takes time --time that Kristine doesn't have. Dr. Staddon has been a great help, contacting one of the hospital's sarcoma specialist, Dr. Patel. But even as an insider he is having a hard time wading through the bureaucracy. Kristine had planned on going out to Houston for a personal trip this coming weekend at which time we thought we could also meet with Dr. Patel. But with three days left and not much progress made, we may have to plan a separate trip closer to Kristine's surgery. We should know more on Monday.

7/8 - A Battle Won, Others Still to Come

Absorbing her final few drops of hydration fluid this evening, Kristine officially finished her final chemotherapy regiment. It's been almost five months since her first symptoms presented themselves on our ski vacation in Colorado. I think I speak for both of us when I say we feel completely turned around, not certain as to what exactly has just happened. While all time is warped by individual perception, the past five months for us know seems like an entire extra year went by and we barely blinked a second time.

The most difficult thing to grasp is that this is just the beginning. It's easy to get caught up in the victory and forget that the disease (although hopefully smaller and less harmful) is still there. This battle is complete, but there is no clear winner and still more battles to fight. The most imminent of which is surgical extraction. This is something that Kristine is having the hardest time dealing with emotionally. She has gone through so much in the past several months with little concrete affirmation of success. I read a great analogy that a cancer survivor had written on the topic of finishing chemotherapy. She said it's like a dog chasing a car and actually catching it, what now? To further complicate matters, Kristine's test results (CT scans and echocardiograms) show conflicting information. For Kristine (and all of us), this just creates greater uncertainty and anxiety for what's to come.

I've stood beside Kristine through this entire process and I can honestly say that I have only the faintest conception of what she has been through. After all, this isn't like a really bad cut that you can compare to a lesser one you recently had, simply projecting what it might have felt like if your cut had been 10 times as large and as painful. The emotional and physical distress independent to one another would be enough to send most of us over the edge, let alone having the two working together to compound their collective weight.

The short term physical effects of chemotherapy on Kristine are easy to report. There are some obvious, well known things such as her bald head and her significant weight loss (it's the lowest it has been since she was a teenager). But there are also the lesser known effects. Kristine has frequent hot and cold flashes and night sweats. Without eyelashes to prevent them from sticking together she has to stretch her whole face to open her eyelids. Her sense of smell has been enhanced which aggravates her nausea. She has seen a recurrence of fungus in her mouth (Thrush) causing swelling and soreness in her tongue. Her overall skin tone has yellowed and the folds of her knuckles and palms have taken on a dark brown tone. Her finger nails, like the inner ringlets of a split tree trunk, show white lines indicating the weeks of her treatment.

All of these physical manifestations are only temporary set backs and are likely to disappear in the next few weeks. The emotional struggle, however, will be something Kristine must endure until even well after any validation that the cancer is gone. The questions will continue to linger about whether the disease is truly gone or if it will come back.

For now, we are just thinking about getting Kristine through her nadir week. One day at a time.

7/2 - Che-mo, No-mo': Final Round

Kristine began her sixth and final round of chemo today. She always has a lot of anxiety going into any treatment cycle and this one, being the last, was no different. In fact, her anxiety was probably heightened this round knowing that all likely next steps are fairly uncertain and a bit scary.

The cancer center was booked solid today. Last Thursday and Friday there was a power outage in the building and surrounding area causing the center to temporarily close down for two days. This, of course, meant rescheduled patients and, in turn, early Monday morning delays. Rescheduled appointments coupled with a short holiday week is a recipe for mayhem. We didn't see the doctor until almost 11am. This put Kristine on track for a late night. Since her treatment wouldn't start until almost 1pm we knew we were going to be up until around 2am. To add to an already frustrating morning, Linda (the only oncology nurse that has had any success accessing Kristine's ports) was on vacation for the week. Kristine became instantly upset at the thought of port troubles. Fortunately, Margie (another oncology nurse) was able to access one of the two ports, enough to get us through one last week.

Kristine is doing pretty well though now that the cycle has begun. There is one new symptom though that she discussed today with Dr. Staddon. Kristine has been experiencing rapid but regular heartbeats (a type of arrhythmia) when she engages in even minor physical activities, the occurrences of which have been increasing. Dr. Staddon thought this was cause for concern and referred us to a cardiologist for closer inspection. Kristine has an appointment next Wednesday to get hooked up to a Holter Monitor (a device worn with electrodes to track the variation in heart activity) for 24 hours. Although this is very concerning, it is likely related to the mass in Kristine's atrium, further underscoring the need for surgical extraction of the tumor.

6/17 - Appointment with the Surgeon

Kristine's 5th cycle is officially over after finishing her weekend IV fluids. She had a tough Thursday night after a single raspberry turned her nausea into a string of vomiting episodes. She felt pretty good for the rest of the weekend with less nausea than in prior cycles.

To continue where I left off in the last posting I'll jump back a week and a half to when we met with the heart surgeon, Dr. Charles Bridges. Our appointment started out with an introduction to Dr. Bridges' surgical assistant, Alice Isidro. Since Bridges was running behind (he fit us into his schedule at the request of Dr. Staddon within a week when he's normally booked months in advance) we had some time to talk with her. Alice was a big cheerleader for Bridges, pulling out a multitude of factoids about his expertise and credentials. She explained his degrees (a B.A. and M.D. from Harvard, a Masters in Electrical Engineering and Doctorate in Chemical Engineering both from MIT), his recognition in Philadelphia Magazine's ranking of top regional doctors from 2004-2007, his recognition in the Guide to America's Top Surgeons, his position as chairman of the Workforce on Evidence-Based Surgery for The Society of Thoracic Surgery (an organization that authors standard surgical procedures) and the recipient of some huge government grant for his current research (she mentioned something about it being the largest ever given in his field, which I have not been able to confirm). She went on about how well respected he is in his field.

Quite a bit of time had passed and we had grown a bit irritable from the wait. Dr. Bridges joined us after almost an hour and a half. He had a cerebral manner about him, while still remaining very approachable. He apologized for his delay explaining that he had been reviewing all of Kristine's scans and had contacted Dr. Staddon to get the latest on her progress and treatment before our meeting. He proceeded by explaining what he had seen from the scans. It appeared from the CT scans that there was a sizable tumor in the right atrium of the heart (one of four chambers of the heart where blood, depleted of oxygen from the body, is first deposited). There was also a string of mass leading up through the superior vena cava (the main vein leading into the heart from the head and neck). He confirmed that there had been material shrinkage in the mass from the earlier scans. He said that it was unclear how much of the mass was tumor and how much was clot. In other words, the size of the mass in the CT scans could be obscured by clotting that accumulated around the tumor.

We jumped right in with our questions. Our first and most pressing was, had he ever seen and operated on any similar cases. He affirmed that he had operated on several patients of Dr. Staddon's where tumors had formed in the heart and surrounding vessels. He described a recent surgery where a patient's tumor was so large that it required the reconstruction of the entire back of the heart. He immediately pacified our visceral anxiety explaining that Kristine's diagnosis was no where near as severe. In fact, he expressed that the surgery would be an "easy one," that is, as far as heart surgeries go.

Bridges explained that the method of surgical procedure would depend on the results of further testing, specifically an echo-cardiogram that would better represent the topography of the area. He did talk about two options. If the mass in the superior vena cava does not reach too far up through the vessel than the procedure would involve a small incision in the right side of the chest, midway down the rib cage under the arm. If, however, the mass extends into other veins in the chest the incision would be made near the sternum in the center of the chest.

One thing confused both Kristine and I. During the entire first half of our conversation with Dr. Bridges he never mentioned the tumor that was previously described under Kristine's right clavicle nor the metastasis tumors in her lung. When asked Bridges seemed puzzled by the question as if he had not been adequately briefed on these other masses. He began to look through the CT scan reports. He read back that the two masses previously thought to be metastasis in the lung were no longer visible and were likely pulmonary emboli (blood clots) that resolved themselves from the blood thinner that Krisitine has been taking. He went on to read that the subclavicular mass was open to interpretation and was thought to possibly only be a bulge in the blood vessel. Bridges explained that before proceeding he would need to discuss this in further detail with Dr. Staddon and possibly a vascular surgeon to ensure that he has all the information.

In short, we were impressed with Dr. Bridges and comfortable with his ability to do the job. We are, however, a little less comfortable with the still ambiguous diagnosis of the subclavicular tumor. Upon questioning Dr. Staddon about it, he responded that he was not convinced that it was a tumor at all, referring to the report from the CT scan.

Our realization is that we've entered the gray area of medicine. The point where imperfect tools and educated theories are the only pieces of data from which to based decisions upon. It is for this reason that we have requested a second opinion. Dr. Staddon has agreed to reach out to his colleague, the chair of the sarcoma department at M.D. Anderson in Houston, TX, Dr. Robert Benjamin. Although we will likely continue Kristine's treatment at Penn, a second opinion will serve as added assurance that we are proceeding in the right direction.

Kristine has her nadir appointment this Wednesday.

6/13 - Cycle 5 Update

I'm back online with a newly reformatted hard drive and an updated immune system for my computer including anti-spy, anti-virus and anti-phishing software. Hopefully this solves the problem and doesn't further disrupt my ability to blog.

As for Kristine, she began Cycle 5 this past Monday, receiving her own download of anti-phishing software in the form of chemotherapy. Monday began as it usually does. We meet with Dr. Staddon first to discuss Kristine's condition and then it's off to the treatment area to begin the five hour treatment process. And, as seems par for the course on these Monday mornings, we began with issues accessing Kristine's port. Despite our 9am arrival time the troubles with the port held up Kristine's treatment until about 12am. This makes for a long day. We closed the treatment center with the nurses at around 5pm only to have to go home and administer the rest of Kristine's IV medication, a process that would end around 1:30 in the morning. Fortunately though both ports were accessed without too much pain for Kristine, including the access point that couldn't be used at all in all last cycle.

Our meeting with Dr. Staddon on Monday morning focused mainly on our prior Wednesday discussion with Dr. Bridges, the cardiothoracic surgeon to whom Staddon referred us. Which brings us to a recap of our meeting that I have not yet written about. However, I will have to leave you in suspense. Although I'm sitting right next to Kristine while blogging, she believes that me on a computer is as good as her being alone. So you'll have to excuse me, I have feet to rub. I'll try to get around to our appointment with Dr. Bridges sometime later this week.

6/12 - Technical Difficulties

I am very sorry that it's been so long since my last post. Kristine and my online bank accounts were compromised by online phishing. Wachovia actually alerted us to the potential problem after spotting a couple of checks, written just a few days prior, that were flagged as fraudulent. Upon further examination of the check images it was clear that I had not written the checks nor ever heard of the individuals to whom the checks had been written.

Anyway, as a result I've had to reformat our computer's hard drive to ensure removal of all spyware traces. And since solutions to technology problems are never simple, I spent a good part of the past week reloading important applications and trying to fix our online connection.

I'm back online and ready to give you all the details of our appointment with the surgeon last Wednesday and the beginning of Kristine's fifth cycle. But not tonight. I'm working on about 8 hours of sleep over the past two long days and need to rest up for another. But I promise that you will have an update by Thursday morning.

6/4 - No Surgery After All

Kristine entered the waiting room after her procedure a little before 2. She seemed to be walking fine, clear of mind but with tears in her eyes. I, of course, was completely confused. The last port surgery Kristine had she could barely function for several hours after the procedure.

It turned out that there was no procedure (at least not surgical) and the tears Kristine shed were those of relief. The surgeon examined the ports under x-ray and was able to access the first port just fine (that is, with only a few attempts at poking Kristine with the needle). This is the same port that was not used in her last cycle of therapy due to complications. All it required was a little bit of an angle to get the needle in.

As for the second port that felt as if it had flipped onto its side, the surgeon determined that this one was also fine. He said that the ports naturally move around with weight loss and muscle movement. And although it can cause some inconvenience and discomfort at the time its accessed, he didn't feel it was worth opening her up to fix.

So all good news today and a huge relief for Kristine. Hopefully when next Monday comes both ports can be accessed without issue. As for now, our next step is to meet with the cardiothoracic surgeon on Wed afternoon to discuss Kristine's case.

6/3 - Good News, Bad News

This past week was a roller coaster for us. Kristine's temperature fluctuated from normal to near 101 degrees for a good part of the week. Since she is susceptible to infection in the week following chemotherapy, it's always a bit scary for us when fevers hits. The oncology team uses 101 degrees as the guideline for seeking medical attention. So, you can image our panic as we watch the thermometer creep up above 100. Fortunately, my mother was in town to help while I was at work and Kristine's fever never really reached a critical level.

On Friday morning, anxious about her sporadic fevers and the potential of a trip to the center to receive antibiotics, she ran her fingers over her port, an instinctive reaction at the mere thought of visiting the cancer center. She noticed what felt like the edge of her port. It felt as if the disk shaped implement was no longer flush with the skin and instead was protruding from her side.

Kristine discussed the issue later that day with Dr. Staddon's office. They felt it was necessary to get the issue resolved as soon as possible for fear that it would worsen or cause complications during her next cycle, just a week away. She is scheduled for an emergency surgery on Monday morning to examine the port and get the implement functioning properly. I don't want to cause undue alarm at the sound of the words "emergency surgery" though. In fact, the escalated timing has more to do with our preferred surgeon's schedule than it does Kristine's health risk. However, her impending treatment in just 7 days is a contributing factor to the timing.

During the discussion, the Nurse Practitioner on Dr. Staddon's team also gave Kristine a surprising report from her last CT scan results -- some good news and some not so good news. The not so good news first. In reviewing the CT scans of her abdomen, the radiologists discovered inflamed pockets along her colon wall. These are thought to be formed from diverticulitis (a condition that develops when pouches called diverticula that form in the wall of the colon, become inflamed or infected). Many people live with the uninfected form of these pockets (a condition called diverticulOtis) without ever knowing they have anything wrong. Kristine's condition has likely became infected and worsened as a result of her low white blood cell counts and weak immune system. In general, this is not a cause for too much concern, at least not initially. It requires us to make minor adjustments to Kristine's diet, slowly introducing more fiber. If the condition worsens it could cause severe discomfort and require surgery to remove some of the colon. Let's hope it heals itself.

So now the good news (this is big). The radiologist also reported a sizable decrease in the size of the tumors that resides in Kristine's heart and vein. According to their measurements there has been approximately 20% reduction in the size of the masses from the last scan (the tumor clot at the heart decreased to 2.5x1.6 cm and the soft tissue mass in the subclavicular vein decreased to 3.8x1.7 cm). This is excellent news and further reinforces our confidence in the treatment she is receiving.

I'll let you know how the surgery goes.

5/28 - Cycle 4, The Hard Part's Over

Kristine finished her 4th chemotherapy cycle this weekend. She was a little more tired, a little less nauseous, and a lot more emotional than in previous cycles. She's managed to stay strong and positive through every stage of this fight, but the medication and difficult regiment periodically constrain her optimism. Her emotional struggles are short and she always bounces back with an amazing amount of fight and courage in her.

One of her weak moments came on Thursday at the cancer center. Nothing in particular triggered the breakdown, it was more provoked by an accrual of constant discomfort and exhaustion. Linda, our oncology nurse, consoled Kristine and confirmed something that we had all suspected since her first cycle. She told Kristine that hers is one of the most difficult chemotherapy regiments that a patient can go through. She emphasized how amazing it's been to see the stamina and strength Kristine has shown over the past couple of months. It's encouragement like this that helps Kristine to move forward.

The fact that Kristine's nights have been less than satisfying in the sleep department hasn't helped her emotional state. She's been consistently waking up in the middle of the night in cold sweats and in general discomfort (fortunately without fever). She eventually gets back to sleep but it's not without a pill and bit of restlessness.

We're headed into the second week of the cycle -- the nadir week. Kristine has an appointment with the Oncologist on Wednesday to check her blood counts as well as another CT scan that afternoon. This scan will give us another data point on how the disease has progressed. It will also arm us with the latest information to discuss with the Cardiology surgeon, with whom we have an appointment a week from Wednesday. This will be the first of many consultations to determine possible next steps.

5/22 - Continued Port Trouble

We were both pretty exhausted this morning after our long night. Kristine slept through most of our time at the cancer center. Even I dosed off a couple of times. Tomorrow is another early morning.

Linda, our oncology nurse, attempted to access the second, rear port after several failed attempts yesterday. Today's outcome was no different. Linda said that it was as if the port, which is a tiny puck-shaped canister with a rubber access gasket on top tucked just beneath the skin, had flipped over. Linda suggested that we get a port study done to understand the problem better, but having gone through this a few cycles ago Kristine was in not mood to cause further irritation to the area (the last port study the hospital poked her with a needle about thirty times before calling it unsuccessful only to have Linda access it a week later). For now it was decided to continue with just the one port and try again next cycle.

Otherwise, Kristine seems to be more tired than past cycles. Hopefully the extra sleep she got yesterday and last night with help.

5/21 - Cycle 4 Begins

Each chemotherapy cycle follows a similar formula, but like a game of Plinko the chips never quite follow the same path. (As bad as it is, I couldn't resist the Price Is Right simile after the tribute to Bob Barker the other night.) Monday morning starts at around 9am at the cancer center. We check in, settle our co-pay with the reception desk and within a few minutes Kristine is called in to give blood for analysis.

We proceed to one of the examination rooms to wait for Dr. Staddon and his nurse practitioner. When they arrive they begin by reviewing Kristine's blood work and clinical condition. Today they pay particular attention to Kristine's INR or International Normalization Ratio. This is the standardized measurement of time for blood to coagulate (clot). Since Kristine has recently changed her blood thinning medication it's important to calibrate her dosage to achieve an optimal coagulation level -- in her case 2.o. Last week, at a special office visit intended solely to gauge her INR, her reading was 1.0. This news sent the oncology team into a mini frenzy until Kristine disclosed her negligence in taking Coumadin for the two days prior. Her level this morning was 1.4 so her dosage was increased.

Discussion regarding longer term next steps typically follows. Dr. Staddon feels strongly about getting a cardiac specialist involved in Kristine's case early to, as he puts it, "start thinking about [Kristine]." He has encouraged us to have an initial consultation with one of Penn's top cardiac surgeons and a favored colleague of his, Dr. Bridges. Getting an appointment so far has been difficult as Dr. Bridges has been traveling in China for the last few weeks demonstrating state of the art techniques in "bloodless surgery"--techniques of which Penn is on the leading edge. We look forward to meeting Dr. Bridges and getting his perspective on Kristine's condition. Of course, given her rare case and the magnitude of risk with a potential procedure we'll also be exploring options for a second opinion -- it's important to both of us to find someone who has experience in operating on a similar situation.

With the examination and some dialog about possible next steps complete, we head across the hall to the treatment area, a large room with about 25 reclining chairs, most separated by a shallow frosted glass partition, all encircling a large central nurses station. Kristine is privileged in her seating arrangement. The port used to administer her medication is in her hip rather than in a more typical shoulder location. Since this is a sensitive and more private placement, she gets dibs on one of a handful of small private rooms.

Mondays usually starts with some delay. The nurses often have new patients who aren't yet familiar with the process and need more education. Linda is our oncology nurse today. We've requested her the last couple of cycles. She is one of the few nurses who seems to really understand Kristine's atypical port placement and has had success accessing it with minimal discomfort. Today, however, even Linda had trouble. One of the access points was implemented seamlessly but would not return blood through the tube. The other proved troublesome, as it has historically, this time producing a painful stinging in Kristine's side when accessed. Linda was able to get a blood return at the first access point after treating it with "clot buster." But as for the second, she thought it best not to irritate it any further and try again tomorrow. Kristine appreciated this decision.

With one port access in place Linda began administering the pre-meds. It was 12 noon at this point, an indication that this would be a late night. Kristine gets five pre-meds before receiving her chemotherapy drugs. These include Aloxi (a long lasting anti-nausea drug), Decadron (a multi-purpose steroid used in part to prevent swelling and allergic reactions), Ativan (another anti-nausea drug), Lasix (a diuretic or "water pill" that aids in the elimination of water retention) and Mesna (a drug that bonds with a harmful byproduct of one of the chemo drugs, IFEX, to render it inactive). Once the pre-meds have been administered the chemo drugs can be given. First Adriamycin (Doxorubicin) is given, which comes in the form of an injection tube, then IFEX (Ifosfamide, chemically related to the nitrogen mustard and most active in the resting phase of the cell). Ifex is given via an IV drip bag combined with a saline solution. Finally, a Sodium Bicarbonate and electrolyte mixture is given intravenously to prevent other side effects and replace fluids.

We didn't leave the center until around 4pm today and since Kristine needs to receive two additional doses of Mesna intravenously at home each four hours apart from one another, we didn't finish until around 12:30am. This makes our 8:30 start tomorrow a bit more difficult, but hopefully we will have a smoother day.

5/14 - Week 2, Cycle 3: Lovenox and Lucas

Week two of Kristine's third cycle is complete and she's been feeling very well with an amazing amount of energy. Her nadir appointment with the Oncology team went well last week. Her blood cell counts were almost as low as they could go, but this was as expected. She received a shot of Aranesp to stimulates her red blood cells in order to prevent anemia.

Since February 13th when we were skiing in Colorado and first learned of Kristine's condition, Kristine has been getting a shot of Lovenox (a blood thinner administered subcutaneously) to prevent further clotting in her blood vessels. She has received the shot twice a day for 81 days, once first thing in the morning and again before bed. She was taken off the injection about a month ago and given a pill form called Coumadin. However, the swelling in her neck and chest increased and we immediately resumed the shots (I, and a few other lucky visitors, had taken on the task of administering the shot to Kristine's abdomen since she understandably had trouble giving it to herself). But a little over a week ago Kristine started taking Coumadin again in lieu of the shot and this time it seems to be working well with no related side effects. As you can probably imagine, this was a huge relief to Kristine and for me.

I was careful to say "related" above since new side effects consistently crop up. The latest is a swollen, white-coated, tender tongue. It is not painful but is causing Kristine some discomfort especially when she eats. The doctor prescribed Fluconazole, an antifungal medication used to treat several types of yeast and fungal infections. The doctor believes that Kristine has Thrush a common side effect of chemotherapy. All of us naturally have fungus in our mouths which our bodies, under normal conditions, defend against. However, with Kristine's immune system at it's lowest point she is susceptible to even the most commonplace, and otherwise harmless, infections. The medication seems to be slowly relieving her symptoms.

On a note not related to Kristine's health but certainly to our daily lives, Lucas, our foster dog of almost 5 months, was picked up on Saturday by his new parents. Before we were ever aware of Kristine's condition we agreed to take on a foster puppy. At the time the 7 month old Catahoula Leopard Dog had been rescued from a house in Tennessee where he had been malnourished. Kristine had left our names with an organization called abuddyforlife.com that finds foster and adopter homes for rescued dogs. In January, we got the call to help Lucas.

It has been a long several months never mind the addition of a second dog and an abused puppy at that. Nonetheless, we had nearly resigned ourselves to the idea of keeping the pup. But a couple of weeks ago a woman from Rochester, NY inquired about Lucas' profile on the rescue website. She and her husband went through the adoption process and drove down 5 hours on Saturday morning to pick him up. It was a bittersweet ending for Kristine and I. As much as we had grown weary of cleaning up his accidents, calming his hyper, playful spirit and handling 2 dogs during daily walks each morning and night, Kristine and I couldn't help but get attached to the little guy and feel guilty for passing him on to yet another home. Even Rufus has been hanging his head realizing that his little pal may not be coming back. Ultimately, with all that has hit our lives we know it's for the best. We're happy that we were able to save his life and find him a good home out in the country where he can run and get some of that extra energy out.

5/2 - Day 2&3, Cycle 3: All is well

Days two and three of this cycle have gone smoothly. Kristine's been able to leave the cancer center around 2 each day. Our departure time is important since there are medications and fluids to administer at home. The later we leave the center, the later into the night she has to be hooked up to the IV. (On Monday, our 4:30 pm departure kept us up until around 1am.)

Kristine's appetite is strong and she's been getting out for a walk each of the past few days after treatment to enjoy the beautiful whether. Nausea is starting to set in sooner than it did the last cycle. However, we know now to be more disciplined with her anti-nausea medication which should help.

Other than that not much to report.

4/30 - Day 1, Cycle 3: A Gleam Hope

I'm not sure if we were more alert this morning after a phase of recuperation or if the gradual transformation of nature in just two weeks time (our last visit to the oncologist) had truly accumulated to a point of enthusiastic recognition. But as we were driving by the Pennsylvania Hospital we were awestruck by a magnificent display of spring bloom in the gardens of the southern edifice. What we were viewing was an enchanting spectacle of landscape at the site of the nations first hospital -- an 18th century building with a statue of Benjamin Franklin (the co-founder of the hospital) as its focal point and the harmonious blend of wisteria vines, azalea scrubs and multicolor tulips surrounding the semicircular lawn.

We didn't realize at the moment of our observation that this scene was an auspicious omen of hope. A symbol of the incredible power of nature's ability to transform while aided by the meticulous and dedicated attention of human care. Our 30 second sighting would soon poetically foreshadow the good news we so badly needed.

There is an escalated, palpable feeling of anxiety with each day before the first day of a chemotherapy cycle. For Kristine, the beginning of a cycle means slipping into a miserable trance where the only recollections she has are associated discomforts of pain, bad tastes and nausea. She held on to her last day for as long as she could by staying awake early into the morning talking to her friend Elaine who was visiting from San Francisco. In the days leading up to today she had become overwhelmed by an intense concern that the pressure she feels in her shoulder had increased which in turn led to doubts about her treatment. This concern had been looming without immediate evidence of her medications' effectiveness. In our early conversations with our oncologists it was discussed that without the success of chemotherapy the odds of survival, statistically speaking, were substantially reduced leaving fewer options.

Our conversation today, even though inconclusive, was very encouraging. Dr. Staddon was very pleased by Kristine's physical and mental demeanor. Review of her scans appears to show positive signs of tumor reduction as well as complete disappearance of any swelling in Kristine's subclavicular lymph nodes (those under the collar bone). Apparently, it's difficult to decipher fully from the scans, but Dr Staddon and his colleagues hypothesize that what looks like a serious of tumors lining the walls of the veins, superior vena cava and the upper chamber of the heart may actually be one central (nucleus) tumor with a long tentacle-like appendage that runs through the other blood vessels. This is good news as it makes for a less difficult surgery. The bad news is that the surgery Kristine faces is likely to be fairly invasive (of the "open-heart" type) though pretty standard procedures these days (Regis was walking within 2 days).

So although the battle is far from over (it sounds like Kristine has 4 more cycles of therapy ahead over the next 3 months followed by surgery to extract what's remaining, this is at the minimum) the odds have flipped back in Kristine's favor with what looks like a successful chemotherapy regiment. And if all works as planned, this is just another example of nature's power to transform with the aid of human care, attention and let's not forget an overwhelming swell of hope.

Also, thanks for voting. It looks like Kristine's wig is pulling ahead but the bald look is not far behind.

4/29 - Vote for Your Favorite

Thank you all so much for your patience. I know a lot of you visit the blog almost daily so I'm sure it's disappointing (and even disconcerting) not to have updates for two weeks. My postings have come in waves depending on the stage of Kristine's cycle but ultimately it all depends on how she's feeling and what new challenge we're facing. However, as I've mentioned before, no news is indeed good news.

Over the last couple of weeks Kristine has been feeling really well. She's been spending time with local friends and even doing some shopping. And although shopping has always been a favorite therapeutic past time for her it has recently become more of a necessity. Kristine has lost weight from the treatment cycles so she's left having either to tighten her belt or to buy some new clothes. For Kristine there's only one solution. It doesn't matter how tired she is she can always muster up the strength to visit a few of her favorite stores.

This past Thursday Kristine had another CT scan and MRI of her neck and chest. Typically these scans are done after the third cycle rather than the second, as was done in this case. Dr. Staddon is taking extra precaution since the cancer type infecting Kristine is considered aggressive. The images will serve as a gauge to determine the effectiveness of the current chemotherapy regiment and potential next steps. Next steps could include changing the chemotherapy drugs, radiation or surgery depending on how the tumors have progressed. On Monday 4/30 we'll be meeting with the oncology team to start Kristine's third cycle and to review the results of her latest scans. This will be a pivotal meeting. It will not only begin to define the next chapter of Kristine's treatment but will also shape our understanding of just how formidable the disease is and the battle that lies ahead.
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LET THE VOTING BEGIN!

As promised, I have included photos of Kristine's new "cranial" styles as well as a poll for you to vote on your favorites. Kristine wants to hear your opinions so don't be shy. The poll allows you to view results real time so you can see what others think.

You can either view the photos below or see high resolution photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/ryanshawnmacdonald