Friends, Friends and more Friends!

Ryan always makes fun of me because I make friends everywhere I go. I have made friends in one day Excel classes and more friends traveling and I have even made a friend on an airplane. So it would only be fitting that I would make friends during cancer. I have not made many because I was not really in to going to support groups. I have never felt like getting together with a bunch of cancer patients and hearing each others sad stories. Maybe that is not what it would be like but in my mind I saw a bunch of bald, crying and desperate people feeling sorry for themselves. Not my cup of tea.

The first friend I made was after my second round of chemo. I was in for my follow up appointment and was waiting for a shot of some sort when I started talking to this girl named Andrea. She was in for her first round of chemo. We are about the same age which you don't see very often. As we were talking, of course she asks me what kind of cancer I have and I tell her. I then ask her. She tells me she has IBC breast cancer. (Which is a very aggressive and rare form of breast cancer.) We start giving more details about our situations to find out that we are both stage IV and both have extremely aggressive cancers. We then start comparing chemo treatments. I have to go 4 times a week with follow up treatments at home in the evenings and weekends and she tells me that she only comes once every three weeks. I was very surprised. I assumed that she had not received all of the details. Andrea then asked the chemo nurse to make sure and she confirmed her schedule. I then say, " How can you come only once every three weeks and my chemo lasts a full week." She then replies, "Well that is probably because they want to save you more then they want to save me." We both start cracking up and I knew right then and there that I had just made my first cancer friend. Since that day we have seen each other go through major operations. (She had a double mastectomy 6 weeks after my heart surgery.) She unfortunately did not receive the break I have and her cancer has all ready come back. She now goes to chemo once a week for at least the next year. I have been lucky enough to have met her family and friends and like me she has lots of great support. I wanted to tell you all about her because she has an amazing blog and I love to read it. Unlike me she is extremely good at keeping up with her postings. She also has six amazing kids that I have been lucky enough to meet. If you get a chance check out the site at www.punkrockmommy.org

The next friend I made was in radiation. Her name is Valerie. To be fair my mom actually met her mom while we both were there for treatment. I later ran into them again and introduced myself. Valerie is also my age and she has a brain tumor. Our lives are so similar it is scary. We were both extremely independent people before cancer made us ask for help. It is a hard thing when you are used to being so independent to then need people to help you. I have become quite good at just saying, "thanks" and not feeling like I have to return the favor. The crazy part about Valerie is that she had brain surgery the first time around and they thought they got everything but as it turns out they did not. She has since had a second surgery and when they removed the tumor she lost most of her short term memory. Now she has to have 24 hour supervision. After running into her a few times at radiation we decided to get together for lunch. She then gave me her number and told me while laughing, "don't feel bad if I can't remember you tomorrow."

I guess the reason I am telling you about my new friends is that I want you to know that there are a lot of people like me out there that are just making the best of a bad situation. I think the one link that I have most in common with both Andrea and Valerie is that we have not lost our sense of humor. A lot of the time cancer pretty much sucks but sometimes it is pretty damn funny. I love to surround myself with people who can help me find the humor in all of this craziness.

Looking forward to 2008!

The holiday season was a blur and we hardly did anything. I am sure it is the same for all of you. It is a crazy time of year but it is always exciting to have a new year ahead. Leaving behind 2007 gives me some relief. I am not sure exactly why. It is amazing how just a change of dates can help you breath a little easier. It is a time for new beginnings and I am more ready then I have ever been to embrace my life. I feel like I have to make up for a whole year lost. However, I realize that although I lost time, I gained so much more. It is hard to put into words how this year has changed me. Having a life threatening disease makes you look through clearer eyes. Problems that would have consumed me before now seem silly and a waste of precious time. I wish I had the words to help you understand how I feel. Not that I would ever wish cancer on anyone, but I do wish you could know how special today and tomorrow really are. It is impossible to understand fully without knowing what it feels like to almost lose them. Anyway, to bring in the new year, I have two stories for you. One pretty amazing and one very funny.

As you all know, if you have been reading this blog, my girlfriends went on a maRAWthon to help send me to a raw food institute in Florida. They raised funds by e-mailing their friends and family and asking them to pass it on, and so forth. Well, to make a long story short, they received a donation from Sharon Stone. Yes, The Sharon Stone! It makes you realize how small the world really is. I can not thank my girlfriends enough for their selfless act of helping me in this journey to get well. I plan on blogging everyday from Florida so I can pass on the wealth of information I am learning. And who knows, maybe you too will go raw. Hey, maybe even Sharon Stone will read my blog and jump on the raw bandwagon... crazier things have happened! Thanks to everyone who donated... especially my new BFF Sharon!

The second story begins with me running very late to meet a friend. I got out of the shower and threw on my clothes. (Probably the same ones from the day before.) No time for make up or even to think, "do these shoes go with these pants." Blah blah blah... time to go!! I then turned to the place where my wig hangs every night -- on the very small head of a bronze replica of Degas' ballet dancer, the preferred place for my short red bob. However, not today. Where could my wig be? I always put it on the statue before bed. I ran around the house looking in every room, but I could not find it anywhere. Five minutes turned to ten and I started to get desperate. Then out of pure habit, as I do when anything is lost, I went to the couch and started to pull off the cushions. Low and behold, there it was behind the cushions. UNBELIEVABLE!! It was flattened out but still in decent shape. I gave it a fluff, throw it on and run out the door. I think I laughed all day. I never thought I would loose my wig in a couch. But, then again I never thought I would be wearing a wig! I guess you never really know what tomorrow holds.

Happy New Year and sending lots of love. I hope to see you all in 2008!

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.