ch-ch-ch-chemo

Well, Dad's (non) response to the treatment for the obstructed bowel indicates that it's probably actually the cancer that's causing the obstruction. The original plan was to wait till he recovered from the obstruction before starting the chemo, but that's not going to happen if cancer is the cause. So they decide to start the chemo today. They give him 3 chemo drugs; two of which will be given right away, one that will be given through a port for 20 days. We're relieved that chemo will finally be started; it's been hard knowing that the cancer has been growing unchecked since we first learned of it.

Which is better: Mayo or Miracle Whip?

Dad wakes Amy around 2 AM saying that the pain is too much and that he needs to go to the ER She takes him into Methodist Hospital and they admit him. He has an obstructed bowel. This is bad, of course, but several good things come out of it:

• He's in Rochester, in the hospital connected to Mayo Clinic. So he'll be able to get the care they were hoping for directly.
• He still gets to keep the Monday morning appointment and hear about the chemo treatments
  Mayo has a team of people that help with making decisions and working with him. The care and setup of the clinic are excellent. They get to really watch him; gauge real-time what the effects of their interventions are, and set up appropriate plans for pain, nausea, and diet management.
• The nutritionist/dieticians sit down with them and answer questions. At one point they spend an hour working through all the struggles they’ve been having about what things are good for him to eat and what things aren’t. Knowing that it’s better to get calories than vitamins (vegetables – too much work for his body to break down those nutrients right now) takes a TON of the day-to-day stress they’ve been living with away. When they go home, they both know the kinds of foods that his body most needs right now.

Rochester Take II

Dad & Amy drive down to Rochester since the appointment for tomorrow is at 8:00 AM. They meet up with Augusta & Chris for lunch. Dad’s feeling pretty well. They stay with some friends-of-friends in Rochester. As they settle in for the night, Dad starts feeling worse.

Rochester Take I

Dad and Amy drive down to Rochester for blood work. Dad starts feeling miserable on the way home.

Johnson Family Reunion

Ben & I head up to Shell Lake for the Johnson Family Reunion. We have a great time of catching up with everyone. Aunt Lynnette is feeling too poorly to be there, so we miss her. It's nice to see Dad and Amy for the third weekend in a row. We end up out at the farm, where Uncle Dean, Dad, Ben and I go for a walk around the farm and they tell us stories about different places and how things used to be. Ben and I end up going to Iron River with Dad & Amy and staying overnight before heading back to Appleton.

Independence & Apostles

I head up to spend the July 4 weekend with Dad & Amy. We have a great time bumming around, messing in the garden, pulling apart windows for the garage, playing Scrabble, and (of course) napping! On Monday, we head up to Madeline Island - the biggest of the Apostle Islands - and spend time there and in Bayfield. How can you go wrong when each day includes Dairy Queen (or A&W) , beautiful sunshine, and a dip in gitchi-gummi?

doing "next"

Dad’s released from the St. Luke’s. YEAH! This week he has follow-up appointments with Powell (Internal Medicine), Monte (the surgeon), and Repka (oncology). This starts what we know will be at least 4 weeks of waiting for him to recover from surgery before they can start on chemo. Dad’s eating a bit, but we’re not sure what’s good or bad for him to eat. It’s also difficult because a decision needs to be made about whether to do chemo (we think yes, at least to give it a shot), but are unsure about whether to go to one of the 3 top places (Mayo, someplace in Texas, or Zion, IL), or to stay local at St. Luke’s. Once Mayo is decided upon, there’s a delay in when the earliest appointment can be scheduled. They schedule one for the 27th/28th. However, Dr. Farreeha (who Jean Godfroy (Waters)) works with, gets a Mayo appointment for the 21st/24th. We take it!

surgery recovery

Dad is a little less drugged. Amy and I spend a great morning with him, just talking and being quiet. Since I’m planning to leave a little after noon, we hold calls & visitors till after I leave. For the rest of the week Dad is in recovery. They don’t want to release him until he’s “functioning” again.

Dad and Amy are innundated with people's calls, visits, prayers, and love. People from our past, people from Mondovi, people from Iron River, and family. It's really mind-boggling and amazing. Dad continually says that he can sense peoples' prayers.

the news from surgery

So, the reunion was great. Had a sweet time (individually and in groups) with Joce, with Alex, with Deanna, with Santosh & Archana, with Heidi, and with other folks it was great to connect with. That being wrapped up, I decide to head out early Monday and drive to Duluth to be there in time for the surgery.

I get there 45 minutes before the surgery; just in time to catch him as he's being wheeled to prep. Amy and I (and 2 other folks from the church in Iron River) wait with him and talk to him. He looks pale, and is somewhat apprehensive about the surgery. The surgeon, the nurse & the anesthesiologist all talk to us about what they will be doing and answer questions. The surgeon tells us not to watch the clock; that he won't. He's a perfectionist and will do everything he can.

We tell him we love him and head out.

We hang around the waiting room for a while. I'm exhausted so Amy tells me to go sleep on his hospital bed. A nurse wakes me with a tap on the door and tells me where to find Amy. On the way to her, I run into some folks who tell me that the news isn't good. Amy's in a small, private waiting room with Roberta, her good friend. They tell me that he has cancer everywhere, and that it's terminal.

We go to a different waiting room near where his new bed will be when he recovers from surgery (on a med/surg floor). They say the surgeon will avoid him as he's regaining consciousness. Amy and I have the choice of whether to tell him ourselves or have the surgeon tell him. We say we want to tell him ourselves.

When he arrives, we wait for everyone to leave/get him settled. He asks hopefully what the results are. Amy tells him while I fill in a few details. He says, "oh really".

Later, the surgeon meets up with the three of us and tell us that the cancer has spread everywhere in his abdomen. Like rice scattered through a room. He can pick up the individual grains, but it's microscopic, and he still wouldn't be able to get it in any way that wouldn't have it growing back right away. He says it's been in there 'a long time'. And he says that with chemo he would guess Dad has 6-12 months to live. Without it - 2 to 6.

We spend time just being there. Roberta "guards" the door, so we can just have time to be there. He tells us he's not surprised at the diagnosis. He's not afraid of death, and he's glad that this gives him the opportunity to take care of Amy (get things settled for her before he's gone). Amy calls several "point" people who can share the news with others who know him.

I go out and call Paula, Tom, Katie, Ben and Jody. I finally cry.

Amy & I tell him we love him and drive back to Iron River for the night.

View from Saturday

Dad and Amy got a “pass” from the hospital to leave for part of the afternoon. They go for a lovely walk, eat gelato, and take shelter from a sudden rainstorm in a parking garage. We know he’s not digesting much if any food, so we have big hopes for the surgery.

more info

So they do a CT scan of the chest. Bottom line: the chest looks clear. They decide to do surgery to remove the stomach, hoping the cancer hasn't spread outside of it to the omentum. The surgery is set for Monday.

I debate about going to visit, but it's the Lawrence 10-year reunion and Joce, Alex, & Deanna are coming into town to stay with me for bits of the time. I decide to check in for updates and hang tight till I know more.

endo

Based on the endoscopy results, they tell us that there is a cancerous tumor in the stomach. They hope that it hasn’t spread outside the stomach. The results from the CT scan show some shadowing that could mean something's spread to the omentum (fatty sac surrounding the stomach, I think). They schedule a CT scan of the chest for tomorrow, hoping it hasn’t spread there. He's not eating, but is feeling better just not being in pain.

and we're in

Dad is completely miserable from the contrast. Amy's helping with Vacation Bible School, so she calls Larry Lind and asks him to take Dad to the emergency room. They admit him at St. Luke's, where they pump his stomach. He finally has relief from the incredible stomach pain and pressure for the time being. They give him an endoscopy, and preliminarily tell us that they think there is some “malignancy,” but they won’t say “cancer” yet.

contrast

Dad has to drink 2 full glasses of contrast for the CT scan. He gets it down and they are able to take the scan.

biliary schmiliary

St. Luke’s gives him a biliary (gall bladder) and liver function scan. He’s also scheduled for a CT scan of the lower abdomen on Monday.