I'm writing this blog from underneath the beautifully strung lights over our patio that Art surprised me with for our 25th anniversary. He wanted to bring a touch of Italy to me, since we could not go to Italy as we had always dreamed for this special anniversary. Art has gone to bed for some much needed rest after a very eventful week, some of which some of you already know bits and pieces about. Art and I just returned from a brief but beautiful weekend in Lake Geneva where we spent some time at Art's cousin's home with his siblings, his Aunt and some of Art's cousins as well as friends. Our kids were well taken care of by their oldest sister (Makenzie) as well as by other cousins of their own. Definitely a weekend filled with love and kindness shown by so many individuals who are precious to us.
I've waited to write an update until after our last doctor appointment on Friday, when I could give you a full report where we stand. I hope that by providing a detailed status to those of you who read this, we can talk about other important things when we actually get to see each other in person--like how's your kid's team doing, what's the best movie you've seen lately, any good new recipes, and (Art's favorite) "Do you have a joke?"
Here goes.....A week from this past Friday, Art had a scan to see if the radioactive beads which were injected into his liver were working to shrink the cancer. That scan unfortunately revealed that although the cancer was not significantly growing in the half of the liver that was treated, cancer was significantly growing elsewhere. The cancer in the gastric area, where the esophagus enters the stomach had grown, and the lymph nodes, which are also cancerous, had grown as well. Although we were extremely disappointed in this news, I can't say we were completely surprised. Art had begun to feel signs of cancer growth and was beginning to feel as he did soon after he was diagnosed. He was having pain in his stomach with extreme fatigue. He was also beginning to have some difficulty swallowing--this was new and scary.
Our oncologist at University of Chicago was firm in his recommendation that Art immediately start chemo again as soon as possible. Unfortunately we are now in a position of playing catch-up to try and shrink the cancer back to where we were a couple of months of ago. Art has already received a heavy dose of chemo this past Wednesday--the same chemo he was on most recently that seemed to have a positive effect. The side effects of the cancer have now transitioned into side effects of the chemo, and he's been battling nausea, chills and overall fatigue.
This past Friday we went to our doctor at Northwestern who examined the scan of the liver more closely. He did see some slight tumor shrinkage in the half of the liver that was treated. He said that it was fairly early to tell how much the radioactive beads were working. We will have another scan in early September to determine where we are at. We will then need to decide with the doctors if Art's body would be able to tolerate both chemo and radiation at the same time. Both doctors agreed this would be incredibly hard on Art's body.
After this appointment we were reminded of how aggressive this cancer is, and that Art cannot be off of chemo. From the beginning we were told that Art would never be able to stop chemo, but we still hoped and prayed for something different. I couldn't help but think of this as an ongoing war. While we attempted guerrilla warfare on the liver, cancer's tactic was to steadily but aggressively attack and make advances on all the other areas. This battle cancer won. But the war is not over. The chemo is an overall approach to attack the cancer cells throughout his body. Our friend Diane Dykema once told me, "Chemo sucks. But chemo kills cancer. So, YAY CHEMO!" We couldn't agree more.
I have to admit, we had a few days of a lot of sadness. But then, (what's the phrase???), you pick yourself up by your bootstraps and move on. Living in that dark place is not a nice place to be. We have much to celebrate. Art has always loved the sunrise (way before cancer entered our lives) because it symbolizes a new chance, the beginning, not the end. So we remain grateful for each day and will continue to do so. Believe me, we aren't walking around being all sunshine and smiles to each other. Sometimes it's just hard to look at each other because we see pain, worry and fear in each other's eyes. But, we are choosing to celebrate every day, even when our smile is through clenched teeth.
I wish I had tremendous words of faith to share with you right now. In this past week I have hardly had the strength to go to God in the midst of disappointment and sadness. But thank goodness, He comes to us and meets us where we are. He can handle this--we can't. Right now we can't hold on, but we know He's holding onto us with strong and eternal hands that are engrained with lines of love and grace and compassion.
Our prayer requests are fairly simple: 1. Healing for Art 2. Freedom from fear and anxiety, for Art, myself, Makenzie, Olivia and A.J., as well as for our parents whose hearts are so heavy as they share the burdens of their children.
Praying for strength for each day and bright hope for tomorrow.
With much love and gratitude,
Kris (on behalf of Art, Makenzie, Olivia and A.J.)
