- 6 Months of Treatment Completed
- Latest Image Results are ‘Remarkable’
- Surgery Date Set
- God is Still Good
We have passed a milestone, and have a new direction, and it comes with some good news, but confirmed one big challenge.
I have now completed 6 months of chemo- and immunotherapy. It was a long process, and was becoming more and more difficult, but we did it. So, last week on February 15, we spent the day at Vanderbilt having scans, labs and meeting with the surgeon. The scan results were very positive. Compared to the original set of images from last September, the liver tumor (and affected lymph node tumor) has reduced over 60%. He used the term ‘remarkable’ for the results. I feel remarkably blessed.
With that kind of success, we were able to have an informed discussion about surgery. I am a little leading edge: The immunotherapy that I have been receiving is a very new treatment for my type of cancer, and it creates two additional challenges. First, it’s inflammatory to the tumor area. This is why I have been feeling discomfort in my side even as the tumor has been shrinking – it’s a good thing, because it means that my immune system is responding and fighting the cancer. But the inflammation of the area makes the surgery a little more difficult. It also has another effect: treatment makes the cancer tissue ‘sticky’, making to more challenging to remove. (I wanted to suggest spraying my liver with Goo-Be-Gone and rubbing it out, but that felt snarky)
Despite the challenges, my surgeon was still very confident that he could be successful removing the last of the cancer. It’s going to cost me 15-20% of my liver, my gall bladder, and a lymph node deep inside. He was also confident that he could do the liver resection and gall bladder removal as a robotic/laparoscopic procedure, which would reduce my recovery time. The challenge is the lymph node. It’s deep inside my trunk and surrounded by some core arteries and veins. He is going to try to do it robotically but will switch to an open surgery approach if necessary to make sure to get all the cancer tissue. It’s a call he will have to make during the surgery itself depending on what he sees. All that considered, we think it’s the right approach with the right surgeon.
We scheduled surgery for Friday, March 15.
So now the preparation begins for that last mountain – God willing it’s the last mountain on this journey. I will be honest – I am not excited by the prospect of 6 hours of major surgery. I am haunted by the surgery that my own father went through when I was 13. That was far more invasive and challenging, and he recovered, but I can’t deny the daunting aspects of this solution. I am on board, and this is a sound decision I am confident in, but it’s not emotionally easy.
I know that it’s not just a challenge for me. This is hard for Karly and the kids as well. There are plans to make and preparations. I am glad to be done with chemo, and I am increasing my exercise for the next couple of weeks to build up my strength. I am making time to spend with the kids and Karly. I am trying to focus on the outcome, not just the challenge.
Did you know that every time your heart beats, 30% of that flow goes to your liver? Did you know the liver is one of the few organs that can actually grow back? I could have 75% of my liver removed before they would start to be concerned about organ failure. It’s a remarkable organ within a remarkable system. The interconnectedness, interdependency, and functionality of the human body is miraculous to me. What is conscience in the brain? How is cellular mitosis regulated? It’s all a wonder, and we tend to take it for granted until something goes wrong. Even when cancer invades, there are billions of other cells still working right.
I see the hand of a creator and sustainer at work. I see that designer’s hand in the endless stars above, moving among the uncounted cells of my own body, and His fingerprints further below in the mysterious quantum mechanics of the smallest particles. We are suspended in this life between the astonishing immensity of the cosmos, the surrounding complexity of our own existence, and the mysterious reality of the subatomic. Though a paradigm of faith I can see an order and a balance to existence, and even further, I see purpose. It’s humbling. It’s encouraging. It’s even glorious. That little pain in my side has reminded me that hurting can be part of the healing process, and that mercy is still something that God expreses.
Please keep praying – there are still mountains to climb and valleys to stumble through. As we move closer to the next big step on March 15, I’ll keep everyone updated.