I’m Not Dead Yet (I.N.D.Y.)

Well, it’s been a little over a month since I have updated my blog, and BOY! have I heard the grief from some of you.  I do apologize for not posting more in July — much of the month was spent traveling, first to boy scout camp and then to the Northeast in a whirlwind adventure of meeting old friends, seeing new sites, and getting together with family.  I have just recently begun going through the pictures and I will post them in a few days.

Not much to report on the cancer front (I’m pleased to say).  I have my next set of CT scans scheduled for next Friday.  Everyone continues to comment that I look good or healthy.  While I am working on just accepting the comment and thanking them, I tend to (either out loud or in my head) acknowledge that with PC, I can look and feel well, but still have tumors growing.  As I have said in previous posts, I remain cautiously optimistic regarding my cancer; I am hoping for the best, but recognize that I may get some bad news at some point.  I joke with friends that if I were a betting man, I wouldn’t bet on me to make it (yes, I still use humor to deal with stressful situations). 

I did not realize until just recently, however, that next Friday (8/14) is the one-year anniversary of my Whipple surgery.   It seems somewhat appropriate that one of my follow-up visits occurs on that anniversary.  I remain hopeful that my scans will not have changed, but it’s hard not to think of the alternative.  I’ll be sure to update the page once I find out what’s what.

Last night I attended the monthly pancreatic cancer support group meeting.  I had been ambivalent about going, as I thought there was not much to discuss right now and I didn’t really feel the need for support.  Once we started talking, though, I realized I needed to be there, not so much to get support, but to provide support.  At the table was a older woman (Mrs. Green –  I’m embarassed to say that I cannot recall her first name) who’s husband was diagnosed this past April.  Mr. Green has had a Whipple procedure, but according to his wife, he is having difficulty adjusting to the reality of having pancreatic cancer.  Mrs. Green expressed that what she needed most was help, ideas, support, and guidance for their journey as they move forward. 

Around the table were several PC survivors and their caregivers.  A couple of us had had our surgeries in the last year and were finishing up (or were finished) with post-surgical chemo.  Also there were Dan and Merle (no, the other one).  Both Dan and Merle (no the other one) are 7 year survivors of pancreatic cancer and they come to these meetings to be a beacon of hope for those of us who have, in comparison, only started down our journey to survival.

Together, the survivors and their care givers answered the questions of our new found friends.  We provided encouragement, talked of hope, and gave suggestions on how to navigate the road ahead of them.   It was good for me to be able to provide someone (else) support by sharing my experiences.  You see as a cancer patient / survivor (or whatever the hell I am with respect to my cancer), I have been the focus of other people’s attention and support.  It was nice to be able to give back last night.

I don’t know how much help I was able to provide, but as we left, we all hugged and talked about meeting next month.  I hope that when we get together for that meeting, I will have received good news about my scans and

Unfortunately, I again have to ask that you keep my father in your thoughts.  Although he showed a great response to the lumbar puncture procedure, the effects have all but disappeared.  He has now been officially diagnosed with normal pressure hydrocephalus (NPH), which means he has an excess of cerebrospinal fluid in his brain and the fluid is creating pressure in the brain that has impeded his mobility and his breathing.  According to Dad, any improvement he had after the LP is gone.

The treatment for NPH is to put a neural shunt that would allow excess fluid to be moved out of the brain.  My father, however, is not healthy enough to undergo the procedure.  The hope is to take the next couple of months and try to improve his health (particularly his breathing) enough so the neurosurgeon can do the procedure.  My father remains stoic (a trait that has been applied to me on many an occasion), but I wish there were more I could do to help.  Unfortunately, all I can do is show him that I care; thus, after my scans next Friday, I will hop in my car and head down to FL for a quick visit.

Until next time!

Merle

Tags: Cancer News, Family, Main, Treatment // 2 Comments »