(Brad dictating, Sue typing)
As Sue may have mentioned, the surgery was worse than
expected, but every day I'm getting better. I had a lot of pain on
Saturday but since then it's been very manageable. It's relatively easy
for me to get out of bed and walk around. I assume though, that I'd
have a lot of trouble getting through a metal detector. The number
of staples in my belly is ridiculous.
At this point, the next step is simply passing gas, which I
have not been able to do. They say walking should help, which is why I
keep trying to walk, although I'm in a very lethargic state so that's not
always easy. They say it could happen any time. It sounds like I'd
likely get out of the hospital about two days after I manage to fart.
We
don't have the lab results from the three foot section of colon that was sent
away yet, and it sounds like the CT scan is somewhat inconclusive so it's
unclear at this point whether or not there will be chemo, however, I am
being referred to the Tom Baker Cancer Centre for follow-up, and the initial
appointment should be within two weeks of my being released from the hospital.
As the only doctor we have spoken to is a colorectal, who doesn't treat liver
cancer, he can't really give us much for answers.
Love
you all, and covet your prayers. Thank you for the outpouring of support
we have already been blessed with.
My
own prayer continues to be that "I may finish my course and the ministry
that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of
God." Acts 20:24
Brad.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Saturday, July 27, 2013
The day after the day after
So this is Sue typing. I’m assuming I know at least
some of you. You will no doubt notice that I have not been able to reach
quite the same level of “well isn’t this an interesting new adventure” in my
attitude to this journey as my marvelously pragmatic husband has.
Brad’s surgery was Friday, early early in the morning, and it ended up being a long, hard day for all of us. Although the surgeon was hoping to do the surgery laparascopically (that’s maybe not the real word. I can’t do any better than that.), that approach didn’t work, and so Brad ended up with a rather long vertical abdominal incision, in addition to the three lapar. . incisions. Apparently much of the colon was removed, although the tumour was “average size.”
Brad spent several hours in recovery while they attempted to get his breathing stabilized, so even though he left for the OR at 7:45 am, we didn’t see him again until almost 5 pm. I cannot begin to express the depth of relief I felt when I was finally to touch him again.
Today he had a peaceful day – he is getting enough painkiller for the pain to be manageable, but he was very groggy. He did get up and go for a walk at least twice, and he spent a lot of time thanking nurses for being nice to him. One small praise from today – he ripped his IV out in his sleep, but a) I noticed it almost immediately and b) he came out of the OR with two IV lines in, so they simply switched his medication to the second, now unused line. As it can be very difficult to find a vein (his tend to shrink away from needles) to put an IV into, it was a blessing that he did not have to go through that ordeal this afternoon.
The challenging news is that the CT scan he had done on Monday showed spots on his liver. Although spots on the liver are not necessarily cancer, the surgeon said that they looked like cancer that has spread from the bowel. We will know more when the lab results come back from the portion of colon that was sent away yesterday, but it looks like chemotherapy will be a part of Brad’s not too distant future. He needs to recover from the surgery first, however, so now you all know how to pray J
The verses that have been running through my head today are “Yet this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning.” (Lamentations 3:21-23)
Thank you all for caring.
Susan
Brad’s surgery was Friday, early early in the morning, and it ended up being a long, hard day for all of us. Although the surgeon was hoping to do the surgery laparascopically (that’s maybe not the real word. I can’t do any better than that.), that approach didn’t work, and so Brad ended up with a rather long vertical abdominal incision, in addition to the three lapar. . incisions. Apparently much of the colon was removed, although the tumour was “average size.”
Brad spent several hours in recovery while they attempted to get his breathing stabilized, so even though he left for the OR at 7:45 am, we didn’t see him again until almost 5 pm. I cannot begin to express the depth of relief I felt when I was finally to touch him again.
Today he had a peaceful day – he is getting enough painkiller for the pain to be manageable, but he was very groggy. He did get up and go for a walk at least twice, and he spent a lot of time thanking nurses for being nice to him. One small praise from today – he ripped his IV out in his sleep, but a) I noticed it almost immediately and b) he came out of the OR with two IV lines in, so they simply switched his medication to the second, now unused line. As it can be very difficult to find a vein (his tend to shrink away from needles) to put an IV into, it was a blessing that he did not have to go through that ordeal this afternoon.
The challenging news is that the CT scan he had done on Monday showed spots on his liver. Although spots on the liver are not necessarily cancer, the surgeon said that they looked like cancer that has spread from the bowel. We will know more when the lab results come back from the portion of colon that was sent away yesterday, but it looks like chemotherapy will be a part of Brad’s not too distant future. He needs to recover from the surgery first, however, so now you all know how to pray J
The verses that have been running through my head today are “Yet this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning.” (Lamentations 3:21-23)
Thank you all for caring.
Susan
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
RE: Yep, I'm mortal! (2)
CT scan Wednesday morning at
9:00 AM, ECG Thursday morning at 9:00 AM, both in prep for Friday’s
surgery. J
Brad.
Brad.
Monday, July 15, 2013
RE: Yep, I'm mortal!
Thank-you all for your prayers,
thoughts, and emails during this time!
OK, here are a few more details, as well as the latest news. Some of you asked why I had the colonoscopy in the first place. Well, approximately two years ago I went in for a routine physical. At the time, the doctor said “well, you’re 50 – you should get a colon screening”. She made the referral and I promptly forgot all about it. Sometime after Christmas I began to experience some abdominal discomfort/pain. To some degree I was like a frog in water, though. It started very subtly, and even now isn’t particularly bad. It’s not a strong pain – more discomfort. However, my stool also started looking darker and became a bit more irregular. The really weird thing is that it has gotten so that it’s difficult to tell whether I need to have a bowel movement, need to urinate, or am simply hungry. Those three feelings are becoming somewhat difficult to differentiate between. Then one day I got a call from the colon screening centre. They told me my appointment was coming up. Apparently the queue for routine screening is nearly two years long! For me it felt like God was in the timing.
When the time for the colonoscopy arrived, they gave me a choice about whether or not to be sedated. If I took the sedation, I’d be “legally impaired” for twenty-four hours. Since I was headed to Toronto that night and would need to drive a car, I chose to go without the sedation. I’m glad I did, because the pain/discomfort wasn’t that serious (in fact, it wasn’t as bad as the stuff I had to drink beforehand!) and I wouldn’t have heard the doctor talking to me as he proceeded. When he saw it, he said something to the effect of “yep, there’s the cancer. Looks like it’s been there a while.” Also, it was bleeding and there was enough obstruction that he couldn’t continue further down my colon. Given that we’d already been told that “early detection is key”, and that the doctor said “it’s been there a while”, and the fact that it was bleeding, and the fact that I’d had some abdominal discomfort already, we took away the impression that this was, indeed, very serious. However, it was all speculative, so I didn’t include it in the previous email – I wanted more details before I began inviting people to my funeral. J
I met with a surgeon today and he seemed quite calm about the whole thing. This is not to say it’s not serious, but he certainly gave the impression it wasn’t the death sentence we thought. In fact, the way he talked he made it sound like it might be nothing more than surgery – an oncologist might not even need to get involved. The bottom line, really, is that we’ll take it one step at a time. So, here are the next few steps.
Some of you have asked about how I’m doing/feeling. The truth is that, whereas I continue to have some abdominal discomfort, it’s not that serious – after all, I can still play hockey! J The worst symptom I’ve experienced so far is a decrease in energy and an increase in the sleep I seem to need. My appetite has gone down, too, but not precipitously. So far I haven’t lost any weight (I keep hoping, but… J). Psychologically I think I’m in a very good place, and I attribute that to God gifting me with a generally positive, optimistic view of life.
OK, I think that’s about it. I think I’ve provided pretty much as much information as I have, but if you have questions, let me know and I’ll respond as best I can.
Thanks again!
Brad.
P.S. (for those who share my faith): God is good! It has touched me how much prayer support I’ve been receiving during this time. In fact, I’ve been saying that if it went by quantity, I’d already be healed! J It is great to know that the Great Physician is guiding the physicians here, and if all else fails, has a place prepared for me! That certainly doesn’t mean I’ll give up the fight down here – I certainly want to grow old with Sue and watch my kids grow up, but the thought of meeting my Redeemer and reuniting with my parents isn’t exactly a bad one either. I simply have to quote Philippians 1:18b-26:
OK, here are a few more details, as well as the latest news. Some of you asked why I had the colonoscopy in the first place. Well, approximately two years ago I went in for a routine physical. At the time, the doctor said “well, you’re 50 – you should get a colon screening”. She made the referral and I promptly forgot all about it. Sometime after Christmas I began to experience some abdominal discomfort/pain. To some degree I was like a frog in water, though. It started very subtly, and even now isn’t particularly bad. It’s not a strong pain – more discomfort. However, my stool also started looking darker and became a bit more irregular. The really weird thing is that it has gotten so that it’s difficult to tell whether I need to have a bowel movement, need to urinate, or am simply hungry. Those three feelings are becoming somewhat difficult to differentiate between. Then one day I got a call from the colon screening centre. They told me my appointment was coming up. Apparently the queue for routine screening is nearly two years long! For me it felt like God was in the timing.
When the time for the colonoscopy arrived, they gave me a choice about whether or not to be sedated. If I took the sedation, I’d be “legally impaired” for twenty-four hours. Since I was headed to Toronto that night and would need to drive a car, I chose to go without the sedation. I’m glad I did, because the pain/discomfort wasn’t that serious (in fact, it wasn’t as bad as the stuff I had to drink beforehand!) and I wouldn’t have heard the doctor talking to me as he proceeded. When he saw it, he said something to the effect of “yep, there’s the cancer. Looks like it’s been there a while.” Also, it was bleeding and there was enough obstruction that he couldn’t continue further down my colon. Given that we’d already been told that “early detection is key”, and that the doctor said “it’s been there a while”, and the fact that it was bleeding, and the fact that I’d had some abdominal discomfort already, we took away the impression that this was, indeed, very serious. However, it was all speculative, so I didn’t include it in the previous email – I wanted more details before I began inviting people to my funeral. J
I met with a surgeon today and he seemed quite calm about the whole thing. This is not to say it’s not serious, but he certainly gave the impression it wasn’t the death sentence we thought. In fact, the way he talked he made it sound like it might be nothing more than surgery – an oncologist might not even need to get involved. The bottom line, really, is that we’ll take it one step at a time. So, here are the next few steps.
1.
Within the next week
or so (don’t have a date/time yet), I’ll be having a CT scan. It is meant
to provide more detail on the extent of the problem, including how much of my
colon is affected, and whether or not it has spread to the liver, abdomen, or
pelvis.
2.
July 26 I go in for
surgery at Peter Lougheed Hospital. It will be done laparoscopically
(i.e. small, minimally invasive incisions), and they will remove a section of
my colon, with its blood supply and lymph nodes. I expect to be in the
hospital 3-5 days, and probably off work for about two weeks. Only about
3% of these surgeries end up with the need to have a colostomy bag for a few
months after.
3.
The piece of colon
that gets removed will be sent for pathology, where they will try to determine
if the cancer has spread. This typically takes about two weeks.
4.
If it is determined
from steps 1 or 3 that the cancer has spread, then an oncologist gets
involved. It is at this point that the possibility of chemotherapy enters
the picture.
Some of you have asked about how I’m doing/feeling. The truth is that, whereas I continue to have some abdominal discomfort, it’s not that serious – after all, I can still play hockey! J The worst symptom I’ve experienced so far is a decrease in energy and an increase in the sleep I seem to need. My appetite has gone down, too, but not precipitously. So far I haven’t lost any weight (I keep hoping, but… J). Psychologically I think I’m in a very good place, and I attribute that to God gifting me with a generally positive, optimistic view of life.
OK, I think that’s about it. I think I’ve provided pretty much as much information as I have, but if you have questions, let me know and I’ll respond as best I can.
Thanks again!
Brad.
P.S. (for those who share my faith): God is good! It has touched me how much prayer support I’ve been receiving during this time. In fact, I’ve been saying that if it went by quantity, I’d already be healed! J It is great to know that the Great Physician is guiding the physicians here, and if all else fails, has a place prepared for me! That certainly doesn’t mean I’ll give up the fight down here – I certainly want to grow old with Sue and watch my kids grow up, but the thought of meeting my Redeemer and reuniting with my parents isn’t exactly a bad one either. I simply have to quote Philippians 1:18b-26:
Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that
through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has
happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that
I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as
always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to
me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body,
this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I
am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better
by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced
of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for
your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again
your boasting in Christ Jesus will abound on account of me.
I feel very much like Paul did
when he wrote that, even if our circumstances are somewhat different. J
Tuesday, July 09, 2013
Yep, I'm mortal!
I’ve just returned from a colonoscopy in which the doctor called what he found cancer. Apparently I’m to expect a call from a surgeon later this week. More news as it becomes available...
Brad.
Brad.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)