Just a quick update for all of you...
Cancer is an asshole and chemo really sucks. Amanda began feeling the effects of this terrible, yet necessary drug over the weekend. Regardless, she spent the weekend with her family and being engaged with everyone. Today she went to work and I would be very surprised if anyone there will even be able to tell that she is under-the-weather. Seriously, my wife is a badass. However, that doesn't mean that she can do this alone. If anyone would like to send her a message or a card of support, send me an email, droahrig@gmail.com, and I will send you contact information for her.
Please share this blog with anyone who you feel would be a valuable member of her Kick Cancer's Ass Army. Positivity begets positivity, so feel free to send her as much cheery sunshine, ponies, puppies and rainbow dust as you would like.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Monday, November 17, 2014
Second Infusion
A few things have changed since the last post. Most significant, is Amanda's decision to leave the treatment study and move to the standard course of treatment for her disease. What this means is that while she will continue to receive the two antibodies, she will also receive two different chemotherapeutic agents. Though the side-effects of chemotherapy can be harrowing, they are far outweighed by the results and the peace-of-mind Amanda will have knowing that she is doing everything she possibly can to kick this disease in the ass.
Today is her first course of treatment to include the chemotherapy. She is receiving the first of it as I write this. Like her last infusion, there have been a couple of stops and starts. What we have found is that there is a lot of prophylactic application of medicines in this process. She is now on a large course of oral medication from steroids to anti-nausea. In this infusion session alone she has already received two different steroids via IV and a push of benadryl on top of her standard course. Hunter S. Thompson would never have been so bold.
Her doctor seems satisfied with her progress so far. The hard part is living in ambiguity. It is due to this, more than anything else, that drove Amanda's decision to add chemotherapy. The sense that all that can be done, is being done.
As always, her strength and character continue to inspire me and leave me in awe. Send a positive thought or two her way, and feel free to put in a good word with the higher being of your choice. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to email me, droahrig@gmail.com. I will make sure that she gets all messages and I will answer all questions that I am able to.
Today is her first course of treatment to include the chemotherapy. She is receiving the first of it as I write this. Like her last infusion, there have been a couple of stops and starts. What we have found is that there is a lot of prophylactic application of medicines in this process. She is now on a large course of oral medication from steroids to anti-nausea. In this infusion session alone she has already received two different steroids via IV and a push of benadryl on top of her standard course. Hunter S. Thompson would never have been so bold.
Her doctor seems satisfied with her progress so far. The hard part is living in ambiguity. It is due to this, more than anything else, that drove Amanda's decision to add chemotherapy. The sense that all that can be done, is being done.
As always, her strength and character continue to inspire me and leave me in awe. Send a positive thought or two her way, and feel free to put in a good word with the higher being of your choice. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to email me, droahrig@gmail.com. I will make sure that she gets all messages and I will answer all questions that I am able to.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Tests and more tests
On Monday, 11/10, Amanda had her second PET scan and third biopsy. Both are part of the study in which she is taking part. Unlike past biopsies, the doctor allowed me to stay the in the room for this one. I am glad that she did as it gave me just a small glimpse into what Amanda is going through from the patient's POV.
As IU is a teaching hospital, a resident was in the room at the time. The doctor who had done the last two biopsies asked Amanda's permission for the resident to do the biopsy, and Amanda allowed it. The next few minutes were a bit of organized chaos. Doctor and resident began speaking about Amanda in clinical terms. While they manipulated her body and viewed the mass on an ultra-sound, all the while the doctor walking the resident how to work the biopsy knife, the nurse was asking Amanda to confirm her name and spelling. As the biopsy was underway doctor and resident were focused on the procedure while the nurse would periodically check in with Amanda to make sure that she was okay.
I do not mean to make it sound as though the doctor is cold. That has not been our experience with this person, at all. She has been both professionally and personally involved since Amanda's diagnosis. This was simply the first time that I had been present when it became "all business."
Amanda, of course, handled it with absolute aplomb. In over 22 years of knowing her, I have never seen her cry due to pain. She is, without a doubt, the toughest person I have ever known. Throughout this, the idea of physical discomfort, surgical pain and sickness have never been a consideration to her when discussing treatment. Her only focus has been on beating this. When doctors, nurse and techs bring up the side effects and extra tests that may accompany treatments, her only question is, "Is this the best course to curing me?"
As always, she amazes me with her strength, both physical and emotional. Even when I can see the pressure of living with this in her body is getting to her, she shakes her head, puts on a smile and gets on with her day. Strongest. Person. I know.
Next Monday is her next treatment. It will likely be the next update, as well. In the meantime, please send some good mojo Amanda's way. Thanks!
As IU is a teaching hospital, a resident was in the room at the time. The doctor who had done the last two biopsies asked Amanda's permission for the resident to do the biopsy, and Amanda allowed it. The next few minutes were a bit of organized chaos. Doctor and resident began speaking about Amanda in clinical terms. While they manipulated her body and viewed the mass on an ultra-sound, all the while the doctor walking the resident how to work the biopsy knife, the nurse was asking Amanda to confirm her name and spelling. As the biopsy was underway doctor and resident were focused on the procedure while the nurse would periodically check in with Amanda to make sure that she was okay.
I do not mean to make it sound as though the doctor is cold. That has not been our experience with this person, at all. She has been both professionally and personally involved since Amanda's diagnosis. This was simply the first time that I had been present when it became "all business."
Amanda, of course, handled it with absolute aplomb. In over 22 years of knowing her, I have never seen her cry due to pain. She is, without a doubt, the toughest person I have ever known. Throughout this, the idea of physical discomfort, surgical pain and sickness have never been a consideration to her when discussing treatment. Her only focus has been on beating this. When doctors, nurse and techs bring up the side effects and extra tests that may accompany treatments, her only question is, "Is this the best course to curing me?"
As always, she amazes me with her strength, both physical and emotional. Even when I can see the pressure of living with this in her body is getting to her, she shakes her head, puts on a smile and gets on with her day. Strongest. Person. I know.
Next Monday is her next treatment. It will likely be the next update, as well. In the meantime, please send some good mojo Amanda's way. Thanks!
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