We met with the oncologist this morning. The lump in the abdomen is definitely malignant, and it's pancreatic cancer. (There was some question about this, since it might actually have been possible for 11-year-old breast cancer cells to show up again, or it could have been something else entirely. A doctor friend told me about a patient of his who had three different kinds of cancer at once. And I think I have problems.) In any case, the good news is that the lungs and liver are clear and the pancreas itself doesn't seem to have changed much in the two years since the surgery.
However, the new tumor means that the Gemcitabine has stopped working, which it always eventually does, and the question becomes what do we do next? Dr. Nickerson suggests one of the standard forms of chemo, and while I'm not against them, I am interested in some of the newer combinations that have come out in the past few years. Most of them are added to Gemcitabine; Dr. Nickerson's feeling is that if the Gemcitabine has stopped working, why add it to something else? A good question.
We went in with seven pages, single-spaced, of information (I always do my homework), which either impressed or overwhelmed him. I got most of it from PanCan, the Pancreatic Action Network, whose volunteer was extremely competent and helpful.
At this point it becomes a balancing act of quality and quantity of life, something I am simply not ready to deal with right now, mostly because I still feel generally good. So, what will keep me in this state as long as possible?
What we decided to do was to go for a second opinion, not because we don't trust the doctor but simply to get as much information as we can get. Next step: the trek to Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston, after which we'll have, if not The Answer, at least some answers, or possibly a whole new bunch of questions.
Last evening, when a friend asked how I was doing, I said, "I got some bad news," and he shook his head and said, "No. We all got some bad news." His -- and your -- support means more to me than I can say.
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7 comments:
He's right--it's bad news for all of us. Dear Lucie, do try to find some sunshine and let it warm your face--
Lucie - I'm in Boston; if you or Jerry need anything, let me know. Sending you virtual hugs!
You and your family are in our prayers and I think about you often. I got to see Lucinda last weekend in Seattle. It was a great visit.
My grandma and grandpa always say in times of need "Be strong and keep your Faith." Today I pass that along to you.
Lucie,
You know our thoughts and love are with you. The Barber hotel is always open if you two need a place to stay and get group hugs.
Oh, Lucie! I read your post last night and just fell apart. So totally, totally unfair to have one more blow. You are in my prayers all the time! You are such a blessing! A very quick, easy and natural friendship is such a rare and wonderful gift. The person you like very much right away and keep finding more reasons to say, "oh, YEAH!!! I knew it! Definitely a buddy!" I love being friends with you! You make me laugh. You make me cry. I love ya! Whatever, whenever you need! Just let me know :o)
Oh! One more thought... perhaps the Gematacide (?) is working very well. Two years, major organs looking good, feeling basically well. Doesn't sound like it has failed to stop working. Just might need a little help :o)
Hi Lucie,
Mannaggia, as we say in Italian...
I thought of something that you might think of doing. I looked up Gemcitabine and curcumin, and there has actually been a Phase II study, whose results, especially considering the fact that the patients involved were at an advanced stage, might be of interest to you. Here is the link: http://www.asco.org/ASCOv2/Meetings/Abstracts?&vmview=abst_detail_view&confID=55&abstractID=31331 Food for thought...
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