Last Day of Radiation Treatments

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Today is the last day that Holly has to go to radiation treatments.  While we loved the people at the Good Sam Radiation Oncology Center, it has been rather taxing on her to manage getting the kids to the right place at the right time. When I went, I geeked out on the device (pictured left).  She lays on the table and the head of the machine (aiming to the right side in the above picture) rotates around her and delivers the dosage.  The wings at the top of the machine measure her breathing so that the dosage is extremely pinpointed.  The whole idea of the radiation is to shrink the tumor so that, when she gets her surgery, they don't have to cut out as much of the colon as they would without it. The effects of the radiation, especially in the past week or so have been pretty bad.  Imagine getting a bad sunburn and then being forced to sit in the sun everyday.  It literally cooks your skin.  It makes you nauseas.  In general, it isn't a whole lot of fun.   The doctors told us that she would feel the effects and that they may continue to get worse for 2 weeks or so, then it will be about 2 weeks start feeling better, then she goes to surgery.  Not really the month that we were looking forward to.

Cancer Hates Happiness

Tim Nelson recently told me that cancer hates happiness. I thought that this was a great way of looking at things. We've been relatively happy all things considered. I believe that this is what has kept Holly both sane and successful. Bowser & Blue. Great one liners. Plus, if you have rectal cancer and can't make a butt joke, you've got bigger problems.

My Peanut Butter Manifesto

By now, everyone in the Internet space has read Brad G's Peanut Butter Manifesto at least once.  It is a great read, here's mine. I'm sick of peanut butter.  I'm sick of Peter Pan and I'm sick of hearing how a couple of hundred people got sick from eating it.  It sucks, but with the coverage that it is getting, you'd think that the Black Death was upon us.   This year alone, roughly 60,000 Americans will die from colorectal cancer.  For those keeping score, that comes out to about 165 people a day.  I realize it isn't throwing up a bit over some bad Peter Pan, but it's pretty bad. In an effort to get Americans to change their behaviors, I propose that the  New York Times put health facts in the top corner of every issue.
# of Americans to die this year from heart disease: 1,200 people per day # of Americans to die from cancer: 1,300 per day # of Americans to die in a car accident: 115 per day # of Americans to die due to bird flu: probably not a whole lot # of Americans to die due to bad peanut butter: probably fewer still
Of course, no one wants to be reminded of their mortality and stopping at McDonalds and grabbing a Big Mac and fries is easier than stopping at Whole Foods and grabbing a sandwhich, but at some point, society (all of us), needs a wake up call. Is some of this spoiled grapes? Yes, of course.  I want my wife's disease to get all of the attention.  Another part of it is that I want the media to be more responsible for what they are putting out there.  The media in this country has a tendency to peddle fear for profit.  They always have because it sells, but at some point, there needs to be a responsibility checks and balances put into place. If you were reminded every couple of days more risks, how would you change your life?

Whoa, That's A Lotta Money

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The intention of this site is to raise awareness of colorectal cancer and how it impacts people, not to create a political discussion. However, my mom works for Sen. Ron Wyden (D - OR) and I got the letter from my insurance company outlining all of the things that have been covered and the costs associated with those things had we not been insured. I bring up Sen. Wyden because he is working on passing the Healthy Americans Act, a proposal that will provide all Americans with quality health insurance at an affordable price. Without health insurance, cancer is more of a death sentence than it already is. Our first bill for the first half of radiation treatments alone cost more than the 3/4 of the BMW line of cars. Adding the second half on to it, will exceed anything that they produce except F1 cars. Vegas should start an over / under line on our total cost. We have one in the family right now, winner gets golf or spas. I've been fortunate that I've had insurance for all of my life. Unfortunately, 45.8 million people in the US don't have any health insurance at all. If you don't have insurance and are diagnosed with cancer, you are in deep shit. There isn't another way to say it. It is a Sisyphean effort for you too. Without insurance, you aren't going to go to the doctor for regular check ups. Without insurance, you are going to put off that lump, that cough, that headache, that blurry vision or your fatigue until you just can't deal any longer. Then you will go to some doc in the box who may misdiagnose you because she is too busy with other patients that also don't have health insurance. At which point, it may be too late to do anything anyway. And what if you catch it early? Chemo, radiation & surgery bills add up quicker than a bar tab on quarter night. Studies say that there is a 7% risk of getting colon cancer in your lifetime. If 7% of the 45.8 million Americans currently without health insurance have colon cancer and don't know it due to all of the reasons stated above, there is a good chance that this disease will kill over 3 million people. 1% of the US population. 0.5% of the population is diagnosed annually with cancer. That is 225,000 people with no insurance who know that they have cancer, but can't afford to be treated adequately. This is a shame, this is sad and this can be prevented. We all point to Canada or France as bastions of socialized health care. Why can't we build out a similar system here in the US? [Ed. - I received the following message from my mom shortly after posting this:'...be sure not to equate RW’s plan with socialized medicine.  In his plan, instead of employers paying for insurance, they give the money to the employee who then selects a plan best for him.  RW’s plan doesn’t have govt running hospitals, doctors’ offices etc. as does socialized medicine.' Again, be sure to read about this at his site linked above and below. ] Read a high level overview of the HAA here (.pdf)

Kind of Update

There is nothing less appealing than coming home at night and writing about your wife's cancer.  The whole idea of it just sucks.  That is why we are a month and a half into this and I haven't had a single post.  It just isn't fun. So some updates:
  • Holly is doing as well as can be expected considering that she is taking poison and being zapped with radiation every day.
  • Random trivia: Chemotherapy comes from Mustard Gas.   That's fucked up.
  • Xeloda, the chemo that Holly is on, is pretty impressive all things considered.  It is oral, so no sitting in the oncology center getting the drip (we have that to look forward to during the second phase!!).  I think that we both expected much, much worse based on talking with other people that have gone through chemo.   So far so good.  She still has the constant nausea, no appetite and fatigue, but she hasn't had any hair loss, she isn't getting the tingley hands, and she still manages to work through our remodel and our two kids.  Either she is a super-trooper (my opinion) or Xeloda works as advertised (their opinion).
  • Our radiation oncologist told us that she is the second youngest (by a year) patient she has seen to have rectal cancer.  This is one of those things that just sucks or is good.  It sucks because this is just bad luck and not something that she is even supposed to be screened for for another 10 years.  It is good because she is much stronger than the average patient.
  • Our doctors are amazing.  When I have more energy to write about them, I will do so.
  • Aside from all of the obvious reasons that this sucks, it also sucks because of what it takes away from your life.  Holly hasn't run since she started chemo (she still walks, does yoga & Pilate's).  She has no appetite for the foods that she loves.  There are times when she can't be away from a bathroom.  It just sucks.
  • The good news is that everything seems to be going in the right direction. It is still hard to tell, but all of the blood levels seem to point to a solid recovery.
  • We learned about our surgery the other day.  I'll save that for a different post.  Talk about sucks.
  • We vowed that we would educate and try to raise awareness about colon cancer.  We've convinced at least 3 people to get screened.  If I were rich, I'd send one of our soon to be released t-shirts to anyone that gets screened.
  • If you know someone that currently has cancer, take them to chemo or radiation.  Not only does it change your entire perspective on life, just hanging out with the patients will make you happier and it will make them happier and it will make your friend or relative happier that you are there.  It is something that you hear about, but until you are in the room with a bunch of people all about to get zapped or injected you can't relate.
  • We are so thankful to all of the people that have stepped up to help out with the kids, transportation, the house and everything else during this.  Even just wishing us the best during a tough time.   The support that we have received has been amazing.  Thank you.
That is it.  People ask me about how I'm doing, how she is doing and so on.  Frankly, it could be a whole lot worse.  We are dealing one day at a time.  What else can you do?