Friday, March 30, 2012
Spleen is out & surgeon finds no further cancer!
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Celebrating the End of Colon Cancer Awareness Month
I hope that everyone has had a wonderful Colon Cancer Awareness Month. It’s almost time to take down the blue streamers and put away the party horns and hats until next year. I don’t know how you’ve celebrated, but I’ve decided to end Colon Cancer Awareness Month by getting rid of my colon cancer (although I will ask Stanford if they have some blue scrubs for me to help celebrate this special month).
As you are all aware, Friday is the big day. This week I’ve been preparing myself to lose one of the last expendable organs in my body and to steel myself for whatever news is presented to me following the surgery. My goal is to hear that they didn’t see any additional cancer, it was all in my spleen and my spleen was removed laparoscopically. I am asking that all of you send me similar intentions and prayers on Friday morning at 7:15 am when my surgery commences. The surgery should take approximately 3 hours and provided all goes as planned, I should be out of the hospital on Saturday or Sunday.
It is important that things go smoothly, since I am scheduled to shoot a commercial for the California Cancer Research Act (CCRA/Prop 29) on Monday! I am so honored to be a part of the effort. Provided that I’m out of the hospital and that I am not completely drugged up, the girls and I will be filming a spot to promote this important proposition. You may have seen that the tobacco companies are stepping up their game in opposition to Prop 29. Although we are on the side of the angels, we’ll be up against $50-$100 million in tobacco money that will be funding the opposition. If you’ve been putting off contributing to my online fundraiser for the CCRA, I can think of no better way to end Colon Cancer Awareness Month (except, of course, eradicating colon cancer from your body)!
I am so grateful to all of you for being by my side on this very long and arduous journey. You have inspired me, made me laugh and given me strength. This surgery will be my tenth (my sixth stomach surgery) in just over 4 years. I just pray that it will be my last. But, regardless of what is ahead, just knowing that you all are out there cheering me on, means more to me than I can ever express.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
A Mixed Bag
Last Monday, Pat and I traveled down to Stanford to get the results from Dr. Fisher. In a nutshell, the cancer is growing as we suspected. The good news is that the only place that they could see cancer growth was in my spleen. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t any other cancer growth, since the CT scan only picks up spots that are greater than 6 mm in size.
When Dr. Fisher told us this news, I was jumping with joy. In fact, I ran over and hugged him. He was very perplexed with my reaction. I guess most people aren’t thrilled when they hear that cancer is growing in their body. When he asked me why I was so happy, I told him that I had prepared my self for a much worse discussion. Heck – a spleen can be taken out and I already knew I had cancer in my spleen!
George then brought in the surgeon to walk through their joint recommendation. They want to take it out. They were ok with leaving my spleen in when the cancer wasn’t growing but now that it is growing, they want it out. George said that he wasn’t surprised that my numbers went up and that the cancer was growing, he was just hoping that it wouldn’t have happened so soon.
I am scheduled to have a splenectomy on March 30 at Stanford. There are 3 possible outcomes on that day (there are probably a lot more, but these are the ones that I’m aware of):
1. The Preferred Result – the surgeon takes a laparoscopic look around, doesn’t see any more cancer, doesn’t see a lot of scar tissue and removes the spleen laparoscopically. I leave the hospital in 1 day and after healing, return to my current chemo regimen of Avastin and Xeloda.
2. Next Best Result – the surgeon takes a laparoscopic look around, doesn’t see any more cancer but sees too much scar tissue to remove the spleen laparoscopically so he is forced to open me up and take out the spleen. I will then have a 3 – 4 day hospital stay. After healing, I’d return to my current chemo regimen of Avastin and Xeloda.
3. Least Preferred Result – the surgeon takes a laparoscopic look around and sees a significant amount of cancer that he can’t remove. He would then leave my spleen in my body and sew me back up. After healing, I would then go on a very aggressive chemo regimen to try to shrink the tumors.
So – it looks like I’ll be losing yet another expendable organ. I will have to get immunizations for meningitis, pneumonia and the flu, since apparently, the spleen is important to protect the body against these ailments. But, otherwise, I’ve been told that I should see very little impact on my life. Many, many people live without a spleen.
Over the next 3 weeks, I will be focusing on prepping myself for surgery. Although I am not thrilled that I’ll be heading into my 6th stomach surgery in just over 4 years, I am relieved that we have a plan of action to get rid of my cancer.
But now it’s time to take my chemo and get to bed….
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Awareness
Over the past several years, many people have asked me how aware the girls are of what’s going on. Have we told them I have cancer? Have we told them how serious this disease is?
Since the very beginning we have been very open with the girls about the fact that I have cancer. Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t have a very good poker face. And – it’s pretty difficult to hide things when you’re having constant surgeries, rounds of chemo and people are coming over to visit regularly.
But, we have never talked about the possibility that I won’t be around for the long haul. Of course, I can’t control what the girls hear outside of the home, so I have often wondered what they have heard and what they think.
Which brings me to last week. When I was told by my San Francisco oncologist about the jump in my numbers, I was distraught. The girls witnessed my pain and sorrow about hearing the news. I knew that I should probably have hidden my distress, but I was just too caught up in my sadness to be thinking clearly.
Later that night, when I was snuggled up close to Ariel putting her to bed, she looked at me and simply said, “Mom, if you are in spirit when I have kids, will you come back through my child? I want to be with you always.”
This took the wind out of me. What a profound concept for an 8-year old little girl. I promised her that I would, but that I was planning to be with her in person when she had her children.
I guess that they do know what it is I’m up against.
Tomorrow morning, Pat and I will be meeting with Dr. Fisher to talk about the results from my scan and to determine next steps. All I know, is that I’ll keep fighting to meet my grandchildren.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Scan on Monday
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
My CEA Has Jumped
Monday, February 20, 2012
Launch of My Fundraiser for the California Cancer Research Act!!!
Approximately one week ago, I was honored to join former Senate Pro Tempore Don Perata and my phenomenal oncologists, Dr. George Fisher and Dr. Gil Chu (who I just learned is the brother of Secretary of Energy Steve Chu) at a fundraiser for the California Cancer Research Act, otherwise known as Prop 29.
For me, this is personal. With NIH lessening the amount of money going into cancer research, California could help save the cancer research effort and maybe, even, find the cures for various cancers (my fingers are crossed for colon cancer breakthroughs).
If passed, Proposition 29, which will be on the California ballot on June 4, 2012, will generate $585 million dollars annually to find cures for cancers and other tobacco-related diseases through a $1 increase on cigarettes.
Not only is Prop 29 a game-changer in the battle against cancers, but it will drive down smoking rates and protect kids from ever taking up the habit. You can click here to see exactly how revenues will be spent.
There’s only one obstacle: Big Tobacco. They’ve held California in a headlock for 14 years, blocking every attempt to raise cigarette tax with their lobbyists and deceptive campaigns.
So – today I am launching my own fundraising effort to help convince the voters of California to support this effort. Whether you live in California or anyplace else in the country, the money that will be raised for cancer research will benefit all cancer patients nationwide.
To donate, just go to the following site: http://CaliforniansForACure.org/action/donate and where it says “advocate” please put down my name, Eve Bukowski, and your wonderful donation will be credited to my personal fundraiser. I want so desperately to get this proposition passed – and I truly hope that I will be able to be one of the biggest fundraisers for the effort.
When you’re deciding how much to give (I’m just going to go ahead and assume that you will give!), please give until it hurts a little. When this was suggested to the crowd during last week’s fundraiser, it reminded me of something that Ellie had done just days before….
I came home from a long day of work and as I walked in the door, Ellie came running up to me with a ziploc bag full of coins and small bills (mainly $1 bills). She told me that the 6th grade was raising money to give to cancer research to save lives. When I pointed out that she was giving an awful lot of her personal funds (there was $34 in the bag and she only gets $1.50/week and she absolutely loves money), I asked her if she was sure that she wanted to give so much. She responded that when I had cancer, people gave to charity to help me and now it was her turn to give. Talk about understanding giving until it hurts a little. She is the poster child for giving until it hurts. I couldn’t be more proud.
The following is the speech that I gave at the recent fundraiser for the CCRA:
Good evening. I am delighted to join you tonight to talk from a cancer survivor’s perspective. I am incredibly honored to be here with 3 people who I deeply admire and whom I am depending on to save my life. Dr. George Fisher – my oncologist extraordinaire, Dr. Gil Chu – the oncologist who is trying to help me with the side effects of chemo and, of course, former Pro Tempore Don Perata who is going to raise the money to fund the research that will hopefully end my cancer journey and put me back on the road to full health.
But before I talk about the importance of cancer research, since I was asked to speak as a patient, let me give you some background on this cancer experience of mine….
I have been battling Stage 4 colon cancer for the last 4 years. My cancer journey began in January of 2008, when I was traveling in Iowa for the famous Iowa caucus. As a political junkie I had always wondered what the Caucus was all about.
Unfortunately, I never got to experience the Caucus – on that fateful Thursday night I was at Mercy Hospital in downtown Des Moines, in excruciating pain. I had no idea what a difficult road lie ahead. They found a blockage, and told me they needed to operate immediately. Two days later, I woke up to a prognosis of colon cancer – and it had spread.
So began my fight. Since then I was diverted from campaigning for Hillary Clinton to campaigning for my life.
I have had my colon re-sected twice, a vaginal re-section, a radical hysterectomy, an ostomy bag, a reversal of my ileostomy, and more radiation and chemo than any human body should have running through it. Heck - I have even frozen my head to save my hair!
If you look at the statistics, I should probably be dead by now.
Of course, when I first met George, he told me not to look at the statistics. He convinced me that I was not a statistic. I learned that each body reacts differently to cancer and the drugs used to treat it. Others chose to tell me that advanced cancer patients have a slim chance of living very long.
As you can plainly see – I am far from dead. I am vibrant and very much alive.
Unfortunately, my journey is not yet over. I have had 3 recurrences in the last 3 years. Each time that I’ve finished chemo, I’ve wanted desperately to believe that I would return to complete health—that I would get to see my children and my grandchildren grow up. But that has not been my experience..
At the end of last June my cancer reappeared in both my spleen and my rectum. George has me on a chemo regimen that includes my taking oral chemo twice a day with an infusion every 3 weeks. And I’m delighted to say that the cancer doesn’t appear to be growing. However, because of my history, the likelihood that cancer is floating around in my body waiting to reemerge is very high. So now we are in a holding pattern – continuing to poison my body and watch and wait.
As I was thinking about speaking with you tonight, I was reflecting about what it’s like to live every day as a cancer patient. It is devastating to tell people that I have cancer. I am fighting this disease every day and the last thing I want to do is label myself with it. Telling another person is reliving the diagnosis and helping them come to accept it. Every. Single. Time.
And living with cancer means living my life in 3 week and 3 month increments. Every 3 weeks, we check my blood to see if it’s showing that cancer is growing. Every 3 months, I get a CT scan to see what is inside me. And each time I get a scan, I hold my breath – for days.
Days that take me away from enjoying time with my eight year old twin daughters. It is hard to not know if I will be around to see them grow up. While my friends speak nonchalantly about the future and their plans 5, 10, 20 or even 30 years from now, I am worried about whether I’ll be around to see my daughters’ 10th birthday.
And that is why I’m here today. The California Cancer Research Act, now with its new name, Prop 29, is my best hope that I will be there for my girls. I have a responsibility to do everything in my power to stay alive. I have two little girls who are counting on me to be there when they graduate from high school, when they walk down the aisle and when they bear their own children. Failure is simply not an option.
Not for me, and not for thousands of Californians who go to bed at night with the same fears. I am fortunate. I have access to today’s best research, expert medical advice and chemotherapy drugs. Not every cancer patient does. But every cancer patient would benefit from medical break-throughs and an eventual cure to cancer.
That is why I am so hopeful that California will step up and provide the huge infusion of research dollars to try to solve this devastating disease. California has lead the way for the world many times before—the gold rush, the semi-conductor, personal computers, smart phones, the cyberknife —why not a cure for cancer?!
I know that there may not be a cure right away, but with George and Gil by my side, I can hang on for a little while. But, without the passage of this significant funding, the likelihood that they’ll discover a cure in time for me goes down dramatically.
Edward Everett Hale once said “I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do.”
So, I want to thank Don, George and Gil and everyone involved in this effort for doing what you “can do.” I pledge that I will do everything I can to help the cause.
People say very cavalierly that “every day is a gift.” However, as I pop my chemo pills every night, I am struck daily with how true that sentiment is.
Thank you for inviting me to be here this evening with all of you. I am humbled by my fellow speakers and so very hopeful that through their efforts, we will soon see an end to this devastating disease.