Arriving into Port

This morning, Wendi had surgery to insert a ‘chemo port’ to facilitate the whole chemotherapy process.  It sits just underneath her right collarbone under the skin.  When chemo time comes, they poke a needle through the skin directly into the port, which is connected directly to a major vein to ensure there is no delay in getting that poison right into the bloodstream.

It is an outpatient surgery, so we were there a total of about four hours, then I took a groggy, sore Wendi back home.  And the saga continues:  we drive to Landstuhl, Wendi is poked and prodded and does things she’d rather not do, then we drive home and recover until the next trip to LRMC.

However, it's good to know that everything was taken care of on the home front while we were at the hospital.  Kade had a cold, so we let him stay home to take care of recovering Alex.  For lunch he gave him Twizzlers and jelly beans (with the soup laid out on the counter) and when a friend came to check up on them, they were playing basketball.  We're in good hands.

As significant as a surgery is, that is not the big news.  We met with the oncologist yesterday for the first time.  Dr. Steele has been at LRMC for almost two years, yet leaves this summer in August.  She spent a solid hour and a half explaining what the next several months will look like.

There are basically two chemical regimens that Wendi will do.  The first it 8 weeks long with visits every two weeks, so four visits total.  This is the more difficult of the two regimens, the one that will wreak havoc on Wendi, sickness, nausea, hair loss, etc.  The Doc says things have gotten better and fewer people have the intense nausea as before, but the hair loss will definitely happen.  

The second drug will start two weeks after the first and run for 12 weeks with a weekly visit.  This chemical is a weaker drug that is reportedly easier for the body to handle – much less sickness and often the hair starts to grow back.  We also stopped into the the chemo administration room and saw about six people in their chairs all hooked up and watching TV.  Kinda depressing.

We will be doing radiation after that as well.  We’re not too sure of how that goes, but we have some time to think about it!  Radiation is not done at Landstuhl, so we will be going to a German hospital in Homburg, which is about 40 minutes away.  The Doc said to expect about 6 weeks of daily treatments, but we’ll learn more as that gets closer.

After hearing all of that, Wendi was a little overwhelmed, as you might imagine.  It made everything more real as it all gets closer.  First chemo visit – 4 June.

It’s such a small thing, really, losing one’s hair, but it is definitely a powerful, psychological side effect and the well-recognized, visible sign to everyone that you have cancer.  Much can be hidden, but not this one.  And Wendi has rock star hair, too!

I also can’t help but think of the ‘bloodletting’ days back in the medieval times.  The medical wisdom of the time thought that there was sickness in the blood and the best way to get rid of the sickness was to let the patient bleed out all that sickness just short of the point of death.  Yes, get rid of all that disease!  I picture the doctor approaching the patient with an explanation of the procedure and the patient saying, “yea, that sounds like a good idea, let’s do it.”

But now modern medicine has progressed so far that they tell us, “we’re going to get rid of all those bad cells by injecting poisonous chemicals into your body just short of death.  Oh, and you’ll probably have some lifetime side effects too.”  And we say, “OK, sign us up, let’s do it….” 

I admit, we do feel a little trapped, but then again, this has saved many, many good people, so here we go—

Mark K.