I apologize for not updating for a little bit, but we have been running in neutral waiting for the oncology appointment, and enjoying being surrounded by the laughter of little ones, and the love of family.
We met with the oncologist yesterday afternoon, and were late for the appointment because I got the time mixed up... but they graciously let us come in and didn't keep us waiting long at all. I could see that Rob was upset as we waited, as he looked over all the faces in the room with us, people whose expressions showed the struggles they, too, were working through.
The doctor was patient and kind, thorough and prepared. She explained things to us and answered the questions we had.
This is what we found out:
Rob is in stage 4 bladder cancer. There is no cure. The chemo will only delay it's return, which will happen... they just don't know where. If he chooses NOT to do chemo, she said it would be only 3-6 months of life expectancy. If he chooses to DO chemo, it will give him some "years" but they don't know how many. It depends on many factors, and everyone is different. We don't know whether it's spread further already or not.
We were also told that he needs to start chemo within the 6-week period following surgery, or the survival rate starts to drop dramatically. Next Thursday is the 6-week date.
Rob was pretty upset, quietly, but I could see the millions of words swirling through him on his face. We thought we had more time to decide, to digest things, to figure it out. But we don't.
Rob said to the doctor, "I don't feel bad at all. I'm tired, but I don't feel bad. If I didn't have this bag hanging off my side and know I had cancer, I wouldn't be able to tell by how I feel. When do I start feeling bad? Is it just at the end?" She said, "Yes."
Rob has to have two "rush" pre-chemo tests this Thursday, on Valentine's Day. The first is a scan of his chest, abdomen, and pelvis, looking for signs of metastisized cells. It won't show the microscopic cells, only larger areas. The second is a baseline hearing test. We found out that one of the chemo drugs could take away his hearing, and it would be irreversible, and hearing aids won't help. This is a major stumbling block for Rob, as music is such a large part of who he is.
We meet with the oncologist again next Tuesday morning to go over the test results, and to find out if she was able to find somewhere that will help us with the chemo treatments, should Rob choose that. Rob is still in control of his life, and he wants to maintain making the decisions. This is important to him. And because of that, it is important to me.
I am having to return to work next week, only two days for now until I find out what the chemo schedule will be, hopefully starting next week since we're at the 6-week point. They have been wonderful to me there, and I miss my lady friends. Rob will have to have 4 rounds of chemo, and then no more. He will get treatments for 3 weeks, then have a week to rest. That is one round. So this will go on for 4 months. It will only be one day a week, for 5-8 hours.
I will be with him. We are in this together.
The doctor was trying to impress on him that by getting the chemo, it would at least give him some time... time that maybe will produce a new "cancer cure" in the medical world that he would be able to be a part of.
He was struggling as we conversed, walking back to the car. But his laughter and zanny sense of humor couldn't be tucked away for long, and his smile returned. We shared tearful, quiet smiles, and he hugged me as tight as I needed to be hugged.
We can do this, one day at a time.
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| May 2012 - Another great day! |
Until then, I would humbly ask that you keep Rob lifted high in prayer, that he would be comforted, that he would make sound decisions, and that there would be miraculous healing in his body. Most of all, pray for continued peace in his life, and for his smiles and laughter to remain strong.
He is an amazing man, and I am so proud to be his wife.
In Love and Washed in Peace,
Cheri ♥
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