Last weekend I received a call from a dear friend’s mother
(the mother is also a dear friend) who was very concerned about me because I
haven’t written on the blog for a while.
After hearing the worry in her voice, I realized that it was about time
that I actually posted something.
I started writing several times, but was so busy that I never finished
one enough to post it. Of course,
I even started writing this post a week ago, but STILL didn’t post.
So now it has been one month since my surgery. Over the past month, I’ve been
running so fast that I haven’t had a chance to give you the details on the
surgery and everything that has arisen since.
As you know, on Friday, March 30, I checked into Stanford
Hospital for the splenectomy. We
didn’t know what was going to happen once they got in there and looked
around. I did know that I was
going to do everything I could to get out of the hospital as quickly as
possible. I told the doctors that I would be leaving the next day. They scoffed but decided to humor me by
telling me that it was a laudable goal.
I was absolutely confident that unless they had to open me up, that I
would be outta there on Saturday.
Well – thanks to my friend Stacia who posted right after my
surgery, you know that the surgery went very well and that they were able to
take out my spleen laparoscopically.
Furthermore, when they looked around, they didn’t see any other signs of
cancer. If anyone wants to know
exactly how you retract a spleen through a very small incision, I’d be happy to
give you the details – but will spare those of you with weak stomachs. A big hats off to Dr. George Poultsides
and his team of geniuses for their tremendous work.
That night I got up to walk 3 times. At 6 am on Saturday, I was up and
walking around, when Dr. Poultsides’ right hand surgeon came to work. She looked at me and said, “when a
patient is up and walking around at 6 am on a Saturday morning, you know it’s
time to let them go home.”
At 10:15, I was released from Stanford Hospital. As I was
leaving she said “you know, during the surgery they told me you were crazy, but
now I know what they were talking about!” We gave each other a huge grin and I took off. After 10 surgeries in 4 years – I’ve
learned that my body has an amazing capacity to bounce back. I am continuously in awe of my ability
to heal quickly.
Many of you thought that at that point I should have been
completely relieved. But I
wasn’t. I was told by my
oncologists that if my blood numbers continued to be high then it was probable
that there was additional cancer lurking in a place that the surgeons couldn’t
see – such as my colon.
I went home and started preparing for the commercial shoot
for the California Cancer Research Act. On Monday, after I had put in a fairly full day of
work, Ellie, Ariel and I headed to downtown Sacramento for the filming. I wasn’t my most stunning – but I did
shoot the commercial. Now – they
just have to get the money to actually put the commercial on air. As a side note, for those of you in
California, you may have heard the despicable commercials that have been put on
air by the tobacco companies making all kinds of false claims like that Prop 29
will mean a big tax hike for all Californians. I’m not going to go into how incredibly misleading these
commercials are or my complete and utter disgust for the tobacco industry – I’m
going to reserve those thoughts for another post on another day….for now – I’ll
return to me.
The week following my surgery, I worked a full week, albeit
from home and then hopped on a plane to Pennsylvania to celebrate my
father-in-law’s 75th birthday.
My surgeon thought I was crazy to go across the country a week after major
surgery, but if I’ve learned nothing else from this diagnosis, it’s that
birthdays must be celebrated and that if at all possible, try to show up for
the milestones in people’s lives.
Since Pennsylvania, I’ve been back at work and my body now
seems to be close to 100%. In
fact, I’m better than I was going into the surgery on several levels. Interestingly enough, the continuous
throbbing pain that I had in my rectum since last year’s ileostomy reversal
seems to be gone. Surprisingly, I think that going under for this surgery may have done something to my
sphincter muscle to return it to normal. It is so
incredible not to have continuous pain.
In addition, because I’ve been off of chemo for the last 6 weeks, my
hands and feet have almost returned to normal.
So – you’re probably wondering what happened to my CEA
(cancer indicator determined through a blood test). Well, it dropped.
Dramatically. It went from
8 to 3.5 in 5 days. That was
huge. With that kind of a drop –
we believe that they got the cancer.
What’s next? I
met with both oncologists this last week to talk about next steps. The plan is to take another
CT scan at the end of May to see if they see any additional signs of
cancer. In the meantime, we’re
going to start up Avastin again at the end of next week (that’s my easy peasy
chemo). That will require me
to get a drip every 3 weeks for the foreseeable future.
Next, when I go to get the Avastin on May 11, we will take
my CEA again. If it goes up, then
we’ll start back on Xeloda.
Ideally, they would like to give my body a break for awhile. As George Fisher said last Monday,
“Eve, I’ve told you this before.
We believe that there still is cancer floating around in your body. Therefore, we will be doing this for a
long time to come.”
I will then go and get my CT on May 29. If it doesn’t show anything and my CEA
remains steady, then we’ll just stick with Avastin and keep monitoring my
progress. The goal is to keep the
more aggressive chemos available if the cancer comes back and we need them in
the future. If the CT shows
something – then we’ll probably step it up again and I may be returning to
those lovely Penguin Cold Caps.
But – for now – I’m doing well….heck, I’m doing great! I feel better than I have for over a
year. Being without a spleen
is no big deal – I just have to be a little more vigilant about taking care of
myself if I get a fever or feel ill.
The folks at Stanford are calling me a miracle. I really believe that my
body is doing so well not just because it’s strong, but because of the
absolutely phenomenal support network that I have and because of the love and
prayers that I have received from all of you.
Thank you for being a part of my miraculous recovery. I couldn’t have done it without
you.
