Limping Along

Last week, I went to Stanford for my regular PDL-1 infusion and meeting with Dr. Fisher. He gave me the update from my stent surgery the week before. Apparently, they saw cancer in my bladder – but it was the same cancer from the last time that they were in there.  It’s strange how my perspective has changed over the years. I am no longer devastated when they tell me about the cancer in my body – as long as it hasn’t grown or spread.


When I met with Dr. Fisher, I told him that I believed that all was well – I had an explanation for every pain that I was feeling. He told me that while he appreciated my positive attitude, he believed that my cancer was actually growing and that soon we would be moving to a new protocol. There are a few different options – options are a good thing.


I will be getting my next CT scan in mid-January. Once we get a new look, we’ll figure out next steps. I may also reschedule those appointments with the other cancer centers to get their input as to whether they have something innovative for me.


I asked Dr. Fisher whether he was hopeful that there would be new treatment coming out soon. He sadly told me that unfortunately, he didn’t believe that there was anything in the near horizon. I told him that I would continue to limp along until something better came along. His response? “Eve – you are more than limping along – you’re doing great.”


Later this week, it will have been 8 years since I was originally diagnosed in Iowa. It’s truly a miracle that I am not only alive, but working full time, raising my children and fully participating in life. Just last week, as I was happily skiing with the girls in Tahoe, I marveled at how truly remarkable that it was that I was able to ski.  Although, I am in continuous pain, I haven’t let it stop me. Cancer will not stop me from living my life. No limping for me.


I hope that your 2015 is filled with lots of love, happiness and health!

It's Just Made Me Stronger

As you know, the past couple of months have been rough.  Tumor growth in my rectum and my abdomen has resulted in lying-awake-at-night-pounding-on-the-pillow pain from my belly button to my lower back. As you can imagine it's difficult to be on my game when I'm running on empty.

A couple of weeks ago as I tucked Ellie into bed, I looked down at her sweet face and couldn't help but tell her how sorry I was that she had sick mom. That it wasn't right that she had to go through this. She looked up at me and replied, “That’s ok, mom. It’s just made me stronger. I know it isn’t your fault that you have cancer.”

Her response took my breath away. What a wise little girl. She’s probably right – it has made her and Ariel stronger. But – how I wish that they didn’t have to go through this. No child should be so intimately aware of the effects of chemo, the impacts of constant surgeries and the disruption of regular cancer treatment.

As for the latest with me – as you may have figured out – I didn’t have surgery on Wednesday. I ended up pushing it off since my fistula really wasn’t bothering me too much. My surgeon told me that he wasn’t in any hurry to do this life altering surgery and that we could push it off.  Since some of the symptoms have returned, I should probably reschedule it – but I’m not in any hurry to make that call….I’m going to see how long I can go….

But, tomorrow I will be having surgery number 20. We will be changing out the stent in my ureter. While this would normally be a fairly simple surgery, because I have a fistula, it does add a level of complication to it. Hopefully, it’s easy peasy and I’ll be home in time for a late dinner.

Please send me some extra prayers tomorrow as I head into surgery number 20. I am tired from the pain, tired from the never ending struggle. However, I am amazed by my body. How it continues to buck the odds and fight for health. It’s truly remarkable. And – like Ellie – this whole experience has just made me stronger.