Friday, April 27, 2012

Gearing up for next phase

Remember how in the Grimm's tale, Hansel and Gretel were locked in a cage by the evil witch to be fattened up so they could eventually be properly eaten?  That's sort of the way I feel.  It's all wonderful to be healing from surgery.  But as I have mentioned, as soon as I am well enough, aggressive chemotherapy starts.  I sort of have kept my blinders on to the next phase, preferring to get through the first phase.  But Dr. Scott gave it to me straight, yesterday: 6 weeks of inpatient chemotherapy followed by 2 weeks of outpatient chemo.  That's right folks; over a month in a hospital room strapped to chemicals that kill all growing cells.  And that is just Phase 1 & II, designed to invoke remission of lymphoma.  Then I will be turned back over to the esophageal cancer people who don't usually like to wait this long before they start their chemo/radiation regimen.  It's going to be a long, unpleasant spring and summer!

Why in the hospital?  Dr. Scott explained that as various functions shut down and infections set in (my immune system will temporarily go away) I need to be in a place where people can instantly recognize problems and fix me up right away.  How soon?  I'll probably start in 2 weeks.

Wait... 2 weeks?!  I was hoping to squeeze in a little life in between; maybe work up to being able to eat a slice of pizza.  Perhaps a trip to Fiji?  Dr. Scott explained that typically they would have started this therapy immediately upon discovery of acute lymphoblastic lymphoma.  He said that in 22 years of practice, he's never had to set aside treatment while he waits for surgery for a different cancer to heal before digging in with his cure.

So, 6 weeks on hospital time. I fear for my sanity.

Dr. Scott has been kibitzing with a guy named Dr. Harry Erba from the University of Michigan Hospital and Medical School.  He's kind of a Midwest lymphoma guru.  Between the two of them, they hatched this treatment plan.  Which brings me to the concept of second opinions.

EVERYONE recommends second opinions.  They totally make sense.  Even Dr. Scott says they do.  He got his second opinion from Dr. Erba.  You want confirmation that you are doing the right thing.

But I am an intuitive guy.  I can read through what Dr. Scott is saying to what he is thinking;  "Second opinions are the right thing to do but time's a-wasting.  Chuck is going to find out that this is current recommended treatment for this cancer".  It is a small e-world and it doesn't take a trip to the library and several written correspondences to find out what has been working best for treatment of acute lymphoblastic lymphoma.  These experts all communicate.

So taking it a step farther. Let's say I package up my data and send it to another busy, expert doctor who has never met me.  It'll cost me some money because likely it is outside of my insurance.  After taking some time to examinie my case, he or she concurs with the treatment plan and I feel better about proceeding as planned, albeit a bit later and poorer than planned.  Or I send it to that expert and he or she says, "No, I think you should do this other thing."  Then what?  Get a third opinion perhaps?  Now I have introduced stress and uncertainty into a situation that already is stressful and uncertain.  Doubt has been cast on my local expert and I have to consider questioning his judgment.

Dr. Scott, by all accounts, is a very good doctor.  I can tell that he cares deeply about my case.  I already know that Dr. Harry Erba from UoM concurs with this treatment.  The Internet tells me that Harry Erba knows what he is talking about.  I'm good with that!  Are you?

As I've said before, it is the uncertainty that is the hardest part.  Once I have chosen a path, then it is just one day at a time; and there is some peace and calm with that.  I'm anxious to get on that path.




2 comments:

Lee Ferraro said...

makes sense to me.

Anonymous said...

The tennis game of Chuck Peterson. Take that, Esophageal cancer, Lymphoma is swinging next. Let's hope they both win (or rather, er, loose.) You know what I mean. Love your insight. I have had so many loved ones experience the "C" but never followed them blogging. What a wonderful release; especially since you can't talk very well.
Writing keeps your spirits up and the whining to a minimum. Feel free to let it out, however, as some good old bitching will do you good.