Post Infusion #1 Update

 

Right now Nat is pretty wiped out, as they had to give him benadryl as a precaution for allergy side affects (such as closing of the airway) before they gave him the chemo. They also gave him an anti-nausea drug beforehand. The actual chemo infusion was two hours, but we were there for about four hours.  This is a photo of him when he was getting the infusion.  Notice the painting on the easel, and the window behind him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

While I was waiting, I took a closer picture of the painting and poem.  The poem was quite sobering and extraordinary.  Please take a minute to look closely at them.   Neither of them would have been created without a cancer diagnosis.   

 

 

 

 

The following is the view from where we were.  A huge oak tree and redwoods surround the building that represents the deadly disease where people come for their treatment.  The painting, poem, and view somehow make this place beautiful.  Even in the midst of so much suffering, there is beauty everywhere, if you look for it.  The real beauty, however, is in the stories of those we meet on this journey.  The human spirit is amazing, even in the midst of such intense adversity.  This is the place where people come together to fight against this disease that is affecting so many.  It is a place to support each other, patients (Nat) and caregivers (me), and hopefully get better.

 

 

 

 

So now we are back home.  Zoe was freaked out with joy when we returned.  She was all over Nat, jumping, whining, and wagging.  This morning before we left, an orange cat was on the fence right outside the back door.  Zoe saw it and was out of the doggie door before you could blink an eye.  The dachshund bay instinctively eked out of her long snout; a distinct, rhythmic and intense bark.  Our cat Chloe saw, and watched inquisitively.  The cat freaked out, and scurried frantically across the top of the fenses to get away.  Zoe was disappointed that it had gotten away and finally settled down.  Zoe does not hunt our cat, as Chloe is her last-resort companion when we are gone.  And Chloe has already let Zoe it is NOT okay to chase her. Those claws are pretty convincing in a dog's mind.  Chloe is not the brightest cat, however.  She doesn't know how to come in the doggie door, but can go out of it, which is convenient for us.  She is an outside cat and we don't want her inside eating the butter on the counter.  Disgusting!

So Zoe is quite an entertaining little companion for us.  A good distraction.  A real blessing.  She knows Nat is sick and when he's been at his worst, she has been at her best; by his side, watching like a hawk, and sleeping beside him.  She always has one ear, and her keen nose, on the sights and smells outside.  She's our little hunting dog, even if it's just in the back yard.

It is good to be home!  The present plan is two weeks of chemo pills, a week off, and then back for the second infusion in three weeks.  But for now, we are doing okay, and are hoping for a positive outcome both during and after the chemo.

Ciao!

 

This is Where the Rubber Meets the Road

Well, I am home today.  Nat has gone off to see Dr. Oommen (his surgeon), and then to a support group he has joined.  Tomorrow is the first day of the "big guns" of treatment.  I'm not feeling so hot.  Came down with a head cold on Saturday.  We are both apprehensive about phase three of the treatment he is about to embark on.  That's something that is real through this process... FEAR.  Fear is often looked on as a bad emotion, but in reality fear does have a very useful God-given function.  Built into our bodies is the adrenal gland, which secretes adrenaline when we are in danger, enabling us to run faster, or to fight harder.  So if we encounter a bear on a hiking trail, our normal response is either to fight or run like the dickens.  So fear pokes it's ugly (or beautiful) head out when there is imagined (or real) danger or threat to one's life.  It keeps us alive when we need it... to run like crazy, or to take a karate stance, for instance.  HIYA!!!

So yeah, this is really scary, and it's perfectly normal to be afraid as we fight for a cure from Nat's cancer.  When Nat first got sick, he started saying, "When I am afraid, I will trust in Him."  When you have people poking you with needles and such, or you have to wait for the results of a test, or you are wheeled into surgery, it does test one's faith.  It has mine.  But we have both chosen to trust in God, yes God, for help.  This is way too big for anything else.  We are totally and utterly powerless in the face of this.  And we have the utmost certainty and belief in the ability and reliability of God to help us.  God is doing a work.  And no matter what happens, we will still trust in the goodness and greatness of God. 

"But, why would a good God do this?"  That's a loaded question, and one that theologians have grappled with for centuries.  You or I could rattle off what we think might be the reason Nat is sick.  I believe it is important to find meaning or purpose, even in bad things.  But the greatest and most tangible thing we have latched onto through the diagnosis and treatment of this ugly disease, is the absolute reality of God's presence, comfort, peace, strength, and love.  We don't fully understand why, but we do know that God is holding us closely as we go through this storm.  We pray daily, we read Scripture, and we struggle, but in it all we are still hanging on to His hand.  Just think, the Creator of the Universe is fighting for us, is there for us. What a comfort that is to me! 

This is the real deal. 
This is where the rubber meets the road. 
Get in, buckle up, hang on! 
Jesus take the wheel! 

When I am afraid, I will trust in God.

Ahhhh! Time to catch our breath.

Well, Nat has finished his one-two-punch of chemo and radiation, which was approx six weeks of radiation, along with Xeloda (chemo pills) to help augment the radiation.  He did very well, however, battling fatigue, cognitive slow-down, and a generalized "malaise" as he called it.  Generally feeling sick all over.  But he managed to get (nearly) daily walks in -- an avg of 2-3 miles in.  Amazing, and it can't but help him so he has the strength to battle this disease.

Sunset from the Davis Home

 

On Feb. 11th, he will begin infusions of chemo at Epic Care, which is part of the Cancer Research Center in Pleasant Hill, Calif.  The infusions with be 2-3 hours and it will be a pretty intense pumping of Oxaliplatin.  He will also continue the Xeloda (5Fu) chemo pills, increasing dosage from 3300mg to 4000mg daily.  He will not have weekend breaks, but go a full two weeks straight.  Anti-nausea meds will be used as well.  He will have a break and then start the process over for six months. 

One round:
Infusions of Oxaliplatin (day one)
Xeloda chemo pills (day one, but for two weeks)
Break - one week.

Eight rounds will complete treatment (over a period of six months).

There are a ton of potential side-effects;

• gastro-intestinal (TMI!!!  I will spare you the details.)
• ulcers in mouth, thrush (fungal infection in the mouth)
• appetite decrease and metallic taste to food
• indigestion and nausea
• a drop in white blood cells (which creates a risk of serious infection aka neutropenia), anemia, low platelets causing increased bleeding, blood clots
• bone and or jaw pain or aching
• neuropathy (numbness, tingling or burning sensation in extremities)
• increased sensitivity to cold and heat
• allergic reactions, which could cause breathing difficulty
• thinning of the hair, nails brittle, ridges and lines in the nail plate
• skin dryness, sensitivity to the sun, darkening of skin and nails
• rash, hand-foot skin reaction (sensitivities)
• kidney damage - which can be lessened or prevented by drinking lots of fluids
• chemo brain (forgetfulness, confusion, slower thought processes)
• fatigue

So, again, these are potential.  And the docs will be doing their best to stay on top of the side-effects, and there a several things Nat can do to prevent or lessen their impact.  And the prayers, we believe, helped him endure the first leg of his treatment.  So please keep those prayers coming, as they will continue to be a critical component to his treatment and general well-being.

WE LOVE YOU ALL and with God's help, comfort, presence (and YOURS), we will get through it!

Oh, not to mention Zoe Girl!

Peace,
Nancy, the Natster, and Zoe

Back in the Saddle Again

Ok, so I'm back again.  Took a little break.  Nat is now past the chemo and radiation... woo hoo!  In February he will begin more intensive rounds of the chemo drug only.  He has tolerated this first phase quite well, walking at least 2 miles almost daily.  He has struggled with what they call "chemo brain" which can make it difficult to read and do the crossword puzzles and sudukos he loves.  He still does them, but it just takes more effort.  His is rather fatigued and has described the side effects as being a "general malaise."  But he is still kicking.  This past week we learned he will be terminated from his job because all of his leave will be expired.  Disability has kicked in though, so right now things will be fine.  I didn't want him there anymore anyway!  But this has been hard on him. 

The Incredible Man

Nat's Surprise Birthday Party Three Weeks Post-surgery.

While Nat was at John Muir Medical Center in Concord, he decided he wanted to have a visit from one of the chaplains  there.  During the course of their visit, she told him, "You are an incredible man."  The old saying goes, "You never know what you have until you lose it" goes without saying here.  Because even when you still have that thing or person, and you realize that it can be taken from you, you begin to realize just what you have. 

Fast forward to today.  We are meeting Dr. Sun on Monday for an appt before chemo starts.  He will take his first Zofran (anti nausea) and then Xeloda pills (chemo) just before we drive to Pleasant Hill for his first radiation treatment on Wednesday.  We have heard so many stories... how difficult chemo is, as well as how well people have done.  We are hoping for the latter.  There are a ton of side effects that we have to watch out for, such as soreness and dryness on the hands and feet, nausea, intestinal upset, thinning of hair, loss of appetite, thrush, fatigue, and short-term memory loss.  Nat continues to take this in stride, but we are both concerned naturally.  Only time will tell what the treatment will bring.  Nat will get this first leg of treatment for 6 weeks.  On December 19, he has outpt surgery to put a port in his vena cava, for chemo infusions and to draw blood, or get transfusions if needed.  Then we'll have a month to recover.  The infusions will then begin and will last 3-1/2 months.  Every two weeks, he will sit in a chemo chair for several hours, and then they will send him home with an IV pump, which will continue infusions until the next day.  In two weeks, he will do it again, and then again, until we reach the end of six months. 

Hence the journey begins. 

In the meantime, we are enjoying life, and the people and things we love.  This stuff makes you realize what really matters.

Flying an RC Helicoptor at Matt's House in Petaluma

Zoe and Mona on Thanksgiving Day



Chemo, here we come!

So on Dec. 11 (Weds.) Nat begins chemo and radiation.  He has gone in and gotten the radiation tatoos.  Three small dots that they use to line up the radiation beam properly.  I said to him, "Did you ask them to put Nancy on you while they were at it?"  His spirits are amazing, but I can tell he's gearing up for the next phase.  Last week, Jen Wright (our pastor's wife) was startled from a deep sleep 2-3 times, praying for Nat.  She said she didn't know she was praying for Nat right away, and felt the prayers so strongly. The expressions of love from people we care about, and from God, are astounding.  Our church was sending meals, and now my colleagues from Memorial Hospice are sending meals.  People have come out of the  woodwork to support us.  Even in the midst of all this, the comfort that comes from the compassion of our dear friends sustains us and carries us.  It almost feels like crowd surfing! 

Bayside Imaging for P.E.T. Scan

The other place we had to go on Nov. 18th was Bayside Imaging, which is part of the California Cancer and Research Institute in Pleasant Hill, California.  As we sat in the waiting area, we could hear classical music playing and then Nat tells me, "My dad used to play this piece of music all the time." It was a Chopin etude that he would play a couple times a week. After they invited Nat in for the procedure, I sat outside of Peets Coffee waiting for the procedure to be over.

This is the machine that they put Nat in for the test.  He said it was easy, and he just laid back, laid still, and closed his eyes.  Some of the ceiling tiles in the room were painted like clouds.  Classical music played in the background.  It moved around while he was in the tube for about 20 minutes. 

 

The test he had is called a PET scan (positron emission tomography).  A few days later we had the report faxed to us and the areas that were cancerous were basically confirmed, but there is no other definitive cancer in other organs.  There is a small 7mm node in one lung, and some dense areas around the bladder that will need to be watched, but nothing definitive at this point in time! Woo Hoo! 

 

 

 I thought you would like to see some films that were taken in various PET scans on some random people.  I think it is pretty interesting.  It's amazing how much detail these images pick up. 

Well, I'm signing off for tonight.  Blessings to you all!  Please hug your hunny.  You just never know what life will hurl your way!
 

XOXOXOXO!