Chemotherapy Indefinitely… WTF

The trip to Petoskey on Valentines Day went as planned. We arrived there early. We didn’t talk much during the 100 mile venture. The plans were to meet with her oncologist doctor and then Bobbi completed her 13th infusion.

The doctor seen us quickly. Right away she told us that her last CT scan improved over the last one two months ago. The liver spot was smaller, the tumor in her pancreas was “undefined” in mass but the head of her pancreas was smaller. Stent open, lab numbers good. She asked us if getting right to the point was the appropriate way. Bobbi assured her that it was.

No worse news is good news. The doctor said, when asked, that she would be on chemotherapy indefinitely. Until the drugs no longer were effective or until the disease progresses. She had no problems allowing her to have what she said were chemo holidays. When she learned how difficult the last few treatments have been the doctor thought it’d be alright to cut her Abraxane 20%.

Nonetheless the cut in it did little with the side effects.I called her nurse and let them know that every two weeks will have to be what’s endured, instead of 3 weeks on, 1 off, and 3 on again. It’s simply too much on her. This has been one hell of a long stretch. Her doctor agreed and said that it was fine. She asked if she’d ever have hair again and the doctor said doubtful, as long as she was on the chemo.

So we go from there and live life by the moment. It’s extremely difficult watching thetreatments impact her. Two to three fair days a week with the rest painful and barely able to walk or use her hands. The emotional toll it’s taken just as painful. Finding the right balance of quality in life is the big gamble and goal. Do you fight it with everything you got and pay for it with zero quality? Only to then watch it continue to take more and more? Do you concede and just quit everything. We know that’s not an option. Bobbi’s in no way shape or form will or is considering that. You want answers in black and white, as the questions asked and yet many things fall into a statistic and gray area. You go from scan to scan expecting to know more and leave the places hearing the good news attached to the bad news. Then trying to make sense of all of it, wrapping your head around things, is a major mind screw on its own.

Bobbi:

“Cancer rant here we go . You really piss me off. I’m mad you have the ability to make me sit and rest even when I want and need to get things done. Today I took outside Christmas lights down not because I had the energy but because I was tired of looking at unlit lights in the middle of February. The old days they would’ve been down 2 days after Christmas. Getting used to the new norm and trying to find joy in the everyday small things has me looking around corners to fill that jar of emptiness. Awaiting Spring. New growth, new plant life fresh air. I hope I feel well enough to enjoy those small things. Smells, sounds, feel the dirt gardening. Bring some beauty and be done with this drab dirty snow. This week my heart has been full. Grandkids making honor roll. CC getting compassion award from French teacher for volunteering. Son and daughter-in-law getting positive acknowledged at work. They call them life’s little pleasures. Never quite understood that saying, still don’t. These are life’s milestones that make our hearts smile. The important ones. With news being filled with school shootings, political corruption, and hate try to distract us from these milestones. These are some of the things that make our lives meaningful.

When diagnosed with a terminal illness how does one erase it from our mind. It does not go away it is always present in the forefront of our thoughts. Although at times it is fleeting the thought yet remains, will I see another Spring or Summer? Surgery is out because it’s metastatic. Tumors have shrunk on scans but PC is incurable. When I heard chemo would be indefinite or-until the disease progresses was when I truly wrapped my head around my diagnosis. Right now the tumor is being kept at bay they should rename the chemo center The Hope Factory. Admission one cancer diagnosis ticket. If lucky you will receive the Golden Willy Wonka ticket, a cure on the horizon. That extra fight to spend more time with the ones we love. Plans for a future we may or may not see. Clinical trails? Sure…be a lab mouse to see if it works, and then only the rich will eventually be able to afford it because insurance companies won’t cover it. There are no clinical trails here in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan anyways. Watched Mike grab onto false hope too many times only to be let down dealing with those emotions. I think the key really is to find the right balance, not get caught up in the statistics of pancreatic cancer, and live life getting the most out of the 24-hours woken up with. Which really is all about the simple things. This fight is a long ways from being over, but a fight it certainly is. Don’t want to be a Debbie Downer, so hesitant on sharing a lot. Certainly don’t want pity or be felt sorry for. Are there angry and painful days? Hell yes! But we do steal from it some very meaningful moments and memories. Friends and loved ones have all been amazing. The new friends and doctors at the infusion center are bonuses. Trying to find a good taste out of a crap sandwich is mind magic.”