A typical day goes like this:
- Get up, take the dog for a walk, feed, nap for an hour or two.
- Get up, take some medication, cough up a lung.
- Feed, nap for an hour or two.
- Get up, play a game on the iPad or watch some TV.
- Feed, nap for an hour or two.
- Wait for me to come home or finish work.
- Feed, take the dog for a walk, whisper out a conversation.
- Prepare for bed: Take some medication, cough up the other lung, string out the oxygen, put on the bite guard.
- Sleep.
But now the blog is starting to sound like The Scallion, so let's get on with the update.
This week he had a one-week posttreatment appointment with the radiation oncologist. She said she was surprised (but pleased) that he hadn't lost any weight over the previous week. Most people do, without the radiation staff harping on it all the time. I said, "Most people don't live with Atilla the Hun." We smiled at each other, and she laughed. She said he looked great and that he really came through the treatment like a trouper and that he should just keep doing what he's been doing.
He mentioned how disappointed he was that he wasn't feeling even one iota better, and she just gave him that "I just cured you of cancer, you ungrateful pig" look and said, "Yeah."
The one thing she said that was super encouraging was that she believes this treatment did the trick. That when he goes in for his PET scan in two months and three weeks, she expects it to be clear. No cancer. No surgery indicated. No additional treatments. That was fantastic news.
So this week, he sees the NotChemo oncologist for a "routine" follow-up, and then I think the next thing will be the PET scan. Oh, I know what you're thinking. "Won't the next thing be getting his feeding tube out?" Oh, no, my dear readers. The radiation oncologist said she thought it would be four to six months yet that he'd be on the tube. Eventually his taste will return, yes, and he'll start eating again. But he will need to be off the tube 100 percent (that is, getting no sustenance through the tube at all) for two weeks—with no weight loss. When that happens, he will be able to get the tube out. That was not fantastic news.
The cancer giveth, and the cancer taketh away.
7 comments:
Perhaps President Obama needs to tell Vic to EAT THAT SOLID FOOD about 50 times. I'm sure it will work...
Oh for the love of Pete, I just want this to be easier somewhere in there for you! 4-6 months of the tube??? Insult to injury, indeed. But, yes, you are cured of cancer and that is AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME!
Just say the word for when you want another pizza delivered to your door. We're standing by!
give and take, ain't that the truth... the good news is definitely bigger than the bad news. so that's a very fabulous thing :) i'm always thinking of you both and wishing that this whole freakin' wicked stupid awful cancer bullcrapola would be done! it may still be pestering you, but you are clearly well on your way. it'll be done and gone before you know it. LOVE YOU! --unknown abby
I'm so glad to hear how well the treatment has gone! Now, If you can just get food sounding good again.... this blog has been a fantastic thing for all of us who are thinking about you three every day! Vic, if ever you want a dog walk buddy, let me know - like I've said before, I am only a few blocks away! Hang tough, you three!!!Sara
Thinking of you both and can't wait to hear how gloriously clear that PET scan is going to be... perhaps we should have a feeding tube-burning at the end of all of this :)
Wendy C: I KNOW!!!
DGomez: Man, we are sooooo emotionally ready for that pizza. Will keep you posted on the physical!
Abby: bullcrapola--love it!
Sara: Vic would love a dog walking buddy--Wags, on the other hand ... well, you know.
Wendy B: A tube-burning party. LOVE IT!
ALL: THANK YOU THANK YOU! LOVE YOU ALL!!!
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