Chapter Four - Liver Cancer After the Diagnosis - June 2003

CHAPTER FOUR - LIVER CANCER AFTER THE DIAGNOSIS--JUNE 2003

The weekend seemed to last forever. After we finished our KFC and beer, my friend Cindy left and we soon went to bed. No one slept very well that night. We were all caught up in the negative possibilities and the what ifs. What will happen if I, my Mom, or my wife dies? What will happen to all of us? On Sunday morning we got up early and went to mass. It seemed like our whole world was aware of my situation thanks to my children and the internet. They had been busy all day and night telling their friends on instant messenger, their way of communicating with friends and family. As we walked into church I felt so many eyes of sorrow on me. I was uncomfortable, but I wanted to be there because I had some major praying and begging to do. It was also a place where I knew my kids would feel comfortable because they wanted to pray hard as well. Church was the best place to do that.
After mass we went to visit my Mother-in-law and her friend Chuck. As we arrived at her home a Styx song, one that was played at my younger brother's funeral, came on so we all sat in the car and listened to it. I took it as a sign that my brother Kevin was there with me.
The first thing Monday morning we saw the oncologist. He looked at the ultrasound pictures, and though he told us he was not trained to read them, since he wasn't a radiologist, he would try nonetheless. After looking at them, he thought a CAT scan was in order. A CAT scan, perhaps does a more thorough job of ferreting out what's going on from the inside of the body. You drink an awful tasting solution prior to the scan and during the scan a radioactive die is shot through the vein so they can get a more accurate picture of the internal organs. The scan was performed on the same day as the Dr. visit. I drank the solution which made me gag several times and then received an IV for the injection. It was all very quick and painless other than the needle prick.
The films from the scan were read immediately by the Dr. in an exam room so it was over before I had time to think too hard about the end result. The CAT scan concluded that my liver was full of cancer.
The doctor acknowledged that this was a huge setback in my treatment, but it was not time to throw in the towel. The liver is a vital organ and if there is too much cancer in it, it can't continue to perform it's necessary function. Mine was full of tumors, but it was still functioning. Questions started spewing from my husband’s mouth. How could I have gotten a clean bill of health just one month ago? What does this mean for her life? What are the treatment options? The doctor explained that I hadn't had any screaming symptoms other than fatigue and weight loss, which were easily explained away by a busy lifestyle. There were no blood tests taken at the time or any other tests for that matter, and the physical exam proved nothing.
After more discussion about my condition, like can I get a transplant, what are the odds of survival, can I be cured? We looked over and discussed treatment options. My husband wanted to know if there was a clinical trial I could get into. He had a friend in research at the clinic and was told by him that a clinical trial might be my best option if there was one available. Regular treatment options did not hold a lot of promise for an extended life. The Dr. appeared somewhat insulted by this barrage of questions, and he and my husband engaged in what I like to call a pissing contest. I can't remember the conversation, but their faces were red and their teeth were gritted. I think my husband offended the Dr. by suggesting I go on a drug trial, one in which the Dr. wasn't in charge.
And where was I during the argument between the doctor and my husband? Just sitting there listening. Perhaps I found myself in this predicament because I didn’t pursue these types of questions on my own. Sometimes I just let things happen to me. I let other people take care of me in some ways. For instance, I don't have an easy time with technology so I get someone else to do it for me because learning it scares me and I don't think I can do it. When I was young and I had a subject like math to work on, and I couldn't figure out the answer, I would get someone to figure it out for me. I don't take charge in those types of situations because I get scared or maybe it's just laziness, I don't know. Working on those types of "character flaws" is a top priority for me right now.
In the end, I changed doctors, but no clinical trials were available. I was o.k. with that fact, because I was ready to take any kind of medicine I had to in order to get better. At the time it didn't occur to me that my chances were going to be less because this wasn't a clinical trial. If I'm anything, I'm an optimist.
More Advice
When you are dealt bad news, do something fun, having a cheap dinner with my friend and my family took my mind off of everything, we were roaring with laughter by the end of the early evening.
Find the right physician for your affliction. That makes all the difference in the world.
Find your voice. Don't sit back and just let things happen to you.
Cry if you want and need to, tears may even be a sign of strength. Try not to care about what others may think. Crying is a great release.