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.