Our 2nd Opinion Update
Knowing my recent health history, you're not expecting good news, right? As I suspected, it was not pleasant to hear how difficult my physical situation is. Basically, the doctor told us that the best we can hope for is to keep the cancer stable, and I will remain on chemo indefinitely. I could not make myself ask how long that might be.
Despite the bad news, I realized after several hours of reflection (and by reflection I mean crying and resisting the urge to scream at someone, something) that God did answer our prayer. We asked to feel calm, and we asked that the choice would be clear. The cancer center treated us very well; the staff was compassionate; the doctor spent a full hour with us giving us more information on ovarian cancer and treatment than we have received in the last 7 months. My treatment would have been the same at Vanderbilt as it was with Dr. W. The Taxol/Cistplatin/Carboplatin is the standard treatment. Ovarian cancer is rare enough and complicated enough that there are not alot of options. When the standard doesn't work is where treatment plans start to deviate.
While we haven't made the final choice, I am feeling pretty confident that I will switch to Vanderbilt. I will continue on with one more cycle of the current chemo drug (Gemzar if you're interested), followed by a CT scan. As long as the cancer is stable, they will consider the Gemzar successful, and I will continue. When Gemzar is no longer keeping the cancer in check, we move on to either another drug or possibly a clinical trial.
As I sit alone in the house tonight, I feel disheartened. This is certainly the most helpless as well as hopeless that I have felt. I'm not really upset for myself even though an abbreviated life of chemo doesn't sound like fun. But a life full of chemo is absolutely worth it if it keeps me alive for my husband and children. My heart is broken for them, but even as I try to process all these feelings bubbling up inside me, I find myself resolving to take one day at a time, to fully live one day at a time, to continue to try to learn something from this, to grow from this, to somehow make it worth something.
One way we lived today to the fullest is that Brian and I took advantage of the beautiful weather and took a walk when we got home from the hospital. It wasn't an easy walk because there is so much to say and nothing to say all at the same time, but it was absolutely beautiful out, and I'm glad we made the effort.
Despite the bad news, I realized after several hours of reflection (and by reflection I mean crying and resisting the urge to scream at someone, something) that God did answer our prayer. We asked to feel calm, and we asked that the choice would be clear. The cancer center treated us very well; the staff was compassionate; the doctor spent a full hour with us giving us more information on ovarian cancer and treatment than we have received in the last 7 months. My treatment would have been the same at Vanderbilt as it was with Dr. W. The Taxol/Cistplatin/Carboplatin is the standard treatment. Ovarian cancer is rare enough and complicated enough that there are not alot of options. When the standard doesn't work is where treatment plans start to deviate.
While we haven't made the final choice, I am feeling pretty confident that I will switch to Vanderbilt. I will continue on with one more cycle of the current chemo drug (Gemzar if you're interested), followed by a CT scan. As long as the cancer is stable, they will consider the Gemzar successful, and I will continue. When Gemzar is no longer keeping the cancer in check, we move on to either another drug or possibly a clinical trial.
As I sit alone in the house tonight, I feel disheartened. This is certainly the most helpless as well as hopeless that I have felt. I'm not really upset for myself even though an abbreviated life of chemo doesn't sound like fun. But a life full of chemo is absolutely worth it if it keeps me alive for my husband and children. My heart is broken for them, but even as I try to process all these feelings bubbling up inside me, I find myself resolving to take one day at a time, to fully live one day at a time, to continue to try to learn something from this, to grow from this, to somehow make it worth something.
One way we lived today to the fullest is that Brian and I took advantage of the beautiful weather and took a walk when we got home from the hospital. It wasn't an easy walk because there is so much to say and nothing to say all at the same time, but it was absolutely beautiful out, and I'm glad we made the effort.
Comments
I am here for you in any way that you need me.
There's nothing I can say. I'm just so sorry you are facing this. I'm just so sorry.
Sending you my love.
Prayers go out to you for the best decision for your health/family and your road in this journey. God will be right beside you.
You are an inspiration Melissa.
Blessings to you and your family,
--Lisa
((HUGS))
my heart aches that you had to hear this news... calmly or not. I'm screaming inside for you too, and praying on my knees for you as well.
I'm so sorry for the very difficult (to say the least) news you received today. I'm glad you have a 2nd opinion and feel pretty confident with your doctors. If you ever need another for any reason, we are close to UCLA and Cedars Sinai (my doctor was a renowned Gyn-Onc at Cedars) and your family is more than welcome to set up home base with us. My prayers continue for you. And thank you for the encouragement with the photography-- I just completed my first photo shoot and booked my 2nd (with the same customer)-- you gave me a big boost and thank you. Big hugs to you all.
Joanne
Hugs,
Mary
I wish I had the perfect words to say to you.... I'm sorry that you have to deal with this. I'm glad that this new doctor was able to give you much needed information. My family continues to pray for you. May you receive the miracle that you deserve...
I have no words. I am praying for you and your sweet family, every day. May God lift you up and give you strengh and peace.
"Jesus replied,
'What is impossible with men is possible with God.'"
~Luke 18:27
He is in control. Trust him.
Michelle
Cheryl
SO many are standing with you to cheer you on! Praying for you and your sweet family!
I recoiled. There is always hope, but our hopes change.
First I hoped for a healthy baby
Then, when I found out that she had a complicated heart problem and Down Syndrome, I hoped for a safe delivery and repair.
When repair was ruled out, I hoped for as long as I could have with her.
When time was running out, I hoped for comfort and relief from her pain.
Now, I hope to be reunited with her in heaven.
There was never a shortage of hope..it just changed and morphed, with the realities of the situation..
and always there was LOVE, lots of it.
And with Faith, Hope and Love, we have the greatest treasures.
Sometimes I was angry, even when Ben was dx with cancer, angry and sad and questioning. God is big enough to handle that too, I found out.
I am carrying you in my heart and praying that we can all carry a bit of the pain on your behalf, so you can rest and be enfolded in love, peace and hope..whatever form it takes.
Hugs,
Amy Ostertag
Can I ask, as I am very ignorant on cancer and treatments. I had a friend who had kidney cancer and they removed the kidney, did a round of chemo and he's been in remission for 18 years.
I know ovaries are a different type of situation altogether, but...
Is your cancer in only one ovary? if so, is surgical removal of the ovary an option?
Has the cancer spread to anywhere else that would make that not an option?
I know losing ovaries really changes the way your body handles everything because of the hormones, but I also know people do remove and live with replacement therapies without their ovaries.
I know how disheartening it can be to hear "chemo indefinitely"
I was just wondering what your options are as far as getting the ovary OUT and if that is an option.
Sorry for my ignorance on the topic.
I am a friend of Becky's. I know we have never met, but I feel like I know you sometimes:) Our family prays for you everday. I have no words, but you are SO LOVED!! I can tell everytime Becky speaks of you. I will continue to pray for you, Brian, Rory, and Camden.
Love
Traci
I sit here staring at the screen...trying to come up with something to say...anything...that will sound witty or supportive or caring...but everything sounds too canned or forced. We've never met. We have at least two big things in common that I know of (and probably more): our children are from Korea and we have both battled cancer. Your battle is so much bigger and so much harder...and I really wish it were not so. I prayed for you during our prayers time at church today...I pray for you from home...and I will contine to pray for you and your family. Praying the chemo does its job keeping the cancer at bay...and time brings you more time and more. Your attitude continues to impress, amaze, and inspire me. Peace be with you...tonight...tomorrow...and always.