We met with the second surgeon on Thursday, and nothing is as simple as you expect it to be. He agrees that just the draining tube from the inside of the stomach isn't a good option. He goes with the two-tube solution (Jerry's comment: mygod, you're going to look like a french horn with all those tubes).
However, he stressed that this is risky on several counts. First of all, getting into the stomach and siting and securing the tube is going to be difficult. Second, there are multiple chances of infection, slippage, and other things going wrong. And finally, I'm in nowhere as healthy a state as I've been before for previous procedures. However, he seemed optimistic, and he's done this multiple times before. I got the feeling he was looking forward to it.
I'm not, exactly, though the options are rather limited. If we do nothing, basically I continue to starve. Between not being able to eat much and throwing most of it up, I'm down to 111. My happy weight was about 125. Dehydration is also a potential problem.
Because they have to acquire some new equipment they weren't able to schedule the surgery until Monday the 2nd, almost exactly two years since the unsuccessful Whipple, but if the equipment comes in earlier and there's an operating room free they've promised that they'll fit me in sooner.
How do I feel about all this? I have faith in the doctor and the backup team. I certainly don't want to keep on hurling every day. And Jerry and I agree: what we want is the best quality of life for as long as possible. As long as there's a chance for this, we want to take it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Oh, Lucie! As always, I'm thinking of you, praying for you and really hoping that this surgery gives you some relief and the nutrition you need! Love ya! Always.
Lucie,
Goodness, what to say.. we don't know each other at all. I found your blog while Googling "funny cancer" to try and lift my mother's spirits. I admit, I've been sucked into reading about your adventures and stayed up nearly all night turning the 'pages' of your your site from the very beginning to current. This morning, while I had breakfast and my Mom sat to talk (she doesn't eat much, but we do sit at the table together), I found myself saying "Well, Lucie says..". She finally said "Who the heck is Lucie?!". We laughed a bit about that. You have eased my heart and opened my eyes to my stubbornness in the battle about eating/food (I admit, I am/was a pusher). I have struggled hard to keep life 'normal' and haven't accepted the 'new normal' as a caregiver to someone with stage 4 cancer. I have fussed about chem-brain and nodded uncertainly when I hear about new and improved symptoms that ebb and flow seemingly from nowhere. You've written with such grace and honesty, shared a part of your life, home, relationships and family (albeit unknowingly), and I thank you for that. I thank you for the food for thought and sharing your cancer journey, but most especially for unknowingly helping me and my family travel ours.
Much love and peace to you and yours as you travel these newest roads. You can bet that I will be reading and keeping you and your family in my warmest thoughts.
Elizabeth in Virginia
Post a Comment