Not Loving the "C" Word

11/09/2022

Today I went to visit this guy.

Dr. George Sledge, Stanford oncologist, guided me through treatment for breast cancer last year. Although he’s changed hats a bit, doing more research based work, he told me Stanford was kind enough to let him enjoy seeing some of his patients. I’m happy to be among them.

I’m always greeted with a hug by this kind and brilliant man.

After a quick exam of tissues in pertinent places, he pronounced that breast cancer is under good control. But, he did caution me to keep up with the liver lesions because they are lethal. He heartily approves the chemo-embolization done last month.

Another hug and then he said, “Now get out of here. I have sick people to see!”

Back to see Dr. Sledge in one year. Yes!!!

Meanwhile, kidney stone removal, right side, Part Deux, scheduled for 1:15 tomorrow, Wednesday.

Then it’s HEAL, Baby, HEAL! ❤️

10/18/2022

When I see an image that seems to describe my life at the moment, my inclination is to share it. No exception with this one, and I’ll get to it in a sec.

A week ago today, on October 11, I strapped myself in for another ride on the cancer treatment train. Called ChemoEmbolization, a catheter inserted into my groin area was fed via X-ray imagery to four different sections of my liver. The chemo was meant to be a local treatment to each tumor or lesion where it would kill and then starve the bad stuff in the lesions without doing damage to the healthy tissue nearby. It was a 2-1/2 hour surgery.

Discharged about 36 hours later, I was given a glowing report from one of the physicians attending in the room. Since Stanford is a teaching hospital, there are always a wide array of people attending…possibly including carnival barkers and lion tamers. Don’t quote me on that though…

So upon release from Stanford Wednesday night, off I went on my crazy rainbow leg, (very festive!!) so I could recover.

Imagine my dismay, then, on Thursday when a chipper young voice called to follow up on how I was doing and to remind me the Interventional Radiologist was going to schedule the rest of my surgery soon.

Whhhhaaaat??? I rebounded intelligently. But….but….but…

Oh! Nurse Chipper responded once I’d choked something out resembling a question. I’ll have to check with the doctor.

Well. No response from Nurse Chipper but I knew I’d be talking to one of my favorite nurses on Tuesday (today). One sharp cookie, this girl. SHE would get to the bottom of this mess.

Sure enough. The discrepancy was on the record she was reading from and was where they had already treated, not where they still needed to still go. BIG difference.

So, today is looking way brighter. Still sore and fatigued, but THAT I can handle.

And the lion gazing into the eyes of the crocodile? He’s a reminder to never rest or take your eyes off the enemy. Because crocodiles do lurk and they may or may not take you down.

But like the lion…maintain a brave heart, a fight to the death spirit, a wise course of action while remembering that God/Mother Earth/the Universe does provide what we need to survive until it’s time to lay our bodies down to rest.

Lion watches crocodile

Shaaz Jung Wildlife Photography

10/11/2022

A good thing to remember today!

“Your body’s energy has the intelligence to help itself heal”

Your body is intelligent and knows how to heal itself. it just needs a little help to balance its energies. This is what the Spring Forest Qigong meditations and healing movements do.

When energy is full, balanced, and flowing, health is the natural result. ✨☯️

Many Blessings,

Chunyi Lin

10/11/2022

This is pre-op.

This morning is the procedure that is meant to obliterate the four small lesions on my liver. Although one lesion’s biopsy showed no cancer cells present, (YAY!!!), doctors feel others could be malignant. Therefore, we are going after them while they are still small.

The procedure is called chemo embolization. Going through the femoral artery, guided by imagery, a needle containing chemotherapy medication is sent through veins leading to the liver. The chemo medication is based in oil to prevent the poison from going to healthy liver tissue. The chemo is followed up with a blockage inside the vein that starves the material inside the lesions. They’ll do all four lesions today.

So it’s a double kill of anything that doesn’t belong.

They’ll do a scan in late December to see how they did. This surgical procedure is a “control” not a “cure.” But I’m optimistic.

Hopefully I’ve explained the process correctly, if inelegantly!

I’ve always been fascinated by medical procedures and know I’m in good hands. Staff here is wonderful. Just got something to take the edge off nervousness and any pain. Will be pretty much “out” during the process of course.

About a two- hour surgery, I’m told. Then in recovery. Transferring to hospital room mid afternoon.

Surgery to begin in about half an hour. This is a busy place! Photo is of my sweet nurse. Have been getting extraordinary care.

Have a good day, everyone! ❤️❤️❤️

10/05/2022

This requires Patience…

In my last bit of news I celebrated with you biopsy results that showed negative for cancer cells in one of the lesions on my liver.

Operative words…”one of…”

Yep, three or four more young culprits are in residence there, at least one of them with some suspicious characteristics. I’m unclear why they only biopsied one but it is what it is, as they say.

So, after the meeting of the Stanford liver oncology team (oncologists, interventional radiologists), the recommended course of action was, “Let’s go after these tumors while they’re still very small.”

I agreed with that analysis.

So a date was set for tomorrow, October 6. And the wheels were all grinding forward to make that happen. (One would be amazed at the phone calls and conferences, lab tests, endless forms/questionnaires required for every visit and procedure! Stanford’s record keeping is legendary stuff.)

Thus the scheduled procedure was inching along.

Oh but wait! Schedules are meant for changing, and on Monday, literally on my ”way to San Jose” (🎶, Move over, Dionne) for Covid testing, I learned October 6 was now re-set for October 11.

Not a huge wait, but still.

Things got further complicated yesterday because we’re looking at a set of dominoes, all lined up and ready to tumble at the teensiest flick of a finger.

That’s because the last CT scan of my right kidney revealed the stone contained therein is taking on the dimensions of Mt. Rushmore and needs to be obliterated. I learned this happy news from my nice urologist, Dr. Chang, that I spoke with yesterday.

“You have a lot of moving parts right now,” he pointed out helpfully, referring to the liver blast and waltzing with kidneys.

Well, yes. Yes I do.

So with a little luck, Lord willing and the creeks don’t rise, the liver thing on Tuesday, a little time to breathe, then November 2 back to surgery to deal with Mt. Rushmore. Dr. C. said he found some leftover “dust” in my left kidney that he’ll get at the same time. This side’s large stone was demolished in late June.

Couple of weeks to recover from the November surgery, and can you spell, “THANKSGIVING?” Asaaswwwwkkkk.”

Enough writing for today. Thank you for hanging in here with me. Later I’ll explain the TACE procedure for whoever is interested in this “Chemo Embolization.” It’s pretty fascinating!

Much Love to All.

09/21/2022

What's New, Pussycat?

Hello again, FB Friends and Family,
Today I got an update from my liver oncologist at Stanford regarding the "Next Step" in my treatment protocol.

You may recall that the liver biopsy done a couple of weeks ago showed negative for cancer cells in one of the 4 or 5 lesions presenting on my liver, which was great news. My oncologist noted that my case would be reviewed again by the "Tumor Board" doctors to determine what comes next because the other lesions were still undetermined. The Board met today.

The reason for the biopsy was the Question, not IF it was cancer, but what kind: (1) Liver or (2) Breast Cancer that had gone to my liver. Option 1 would be a much kinder treatment protocol.

The Board, along with my doctor, recommends proceeding with the TACE therapy (localized chemotherapy straight to the lesions via blood vessels in the liver). Not complicated according to my doctor.

Dr. Ghaziani (my oncologist) believes going after these lesions while they're still small is preferable to watching them to see if they grow. Best to try to wipe them out now.

I totally agree.

So now, just a bit more of a wait to get the procedure scheduled through the cancer radiology department, and then off we go. A follow-up in 3 or 4 months with Dr. Ghaziani will tell how we did.

Thank you ALL for hanging in here with me through this journey that has been, as I explained the other day, akin to the scariest rollercoaster ride on earth. This ride isn't quite over yet, but I'm strapped in and ready to roll.

Much Love to All.

09/18/2022

HOPE…

Hello Facebook Friends,
If you want to take a real rollercoaster ride, go to Santa Cruz! Or any of the great places where for a couple of bucks (is that even true anymore? Just guessing) and a boatload of nerve you can board a colorful car and ride the rails of (up, up and…slowly up) giant hills and DOWN, screaming DOWN belly-flipping dips. Race around neck snapping curves and corners. And just Hang-the-hell-on!

Or you can get cancer.

In the most recent date with a(n) (emotional, stomach churning rollercoaster), this was the Big One. Lesions on the liver that were determined to be cancer by the MRI look-see. Words like “progressed.” “Grown.” “All the characteristics of…”“Treatment.” “No cure; just control.”

Yeah, breast cancer was the warm-up act for Big Daddy. Liver cancer.

Biopsy done. Had to determine the source. Was it the liver doing this from the effects of being Stage 4 (of 4) of cirrhosis of the liver (technically Non-Alcoholic Stetohepititis or NASH, its cute little nickname)? Or was it a matasticised version of (Stage 4…so many 4’s!) breast cancer. Because this would determine the treatment.

Liver lesions that are malignant would be (in my case) treated with a localized chemo drug. One time. One and done. Yay.

Breast cancer gone to the liver or other organs mean treatments are systemic. Chemo throughout. Not so great. Iffy liver and all. Could it take this? So many dark and scary things.

A long ten day wait for results. On that up and down rollercoaster. Thinking of the positive. Of gratitude. Of love and support from family and friends. It lifted me up and carried me. It truly, truly did. And it does right now.

And, might as well tell you…Stuffing away the bad…because it does no good. NO good thing at all. Because it is crippling. Paralyzing. Terrifyingly bad. It snuffs out tiny embers of Hope that flicker encouragingly. Stuff the bad away in a box deep inside and refuse to look at it. Gain the strength, the discipline not to look.

Then get busy, as busy as you can and are physically able to be. Seek out the beauty of nature and of art as much as you can (ever wonder about all those posts about art and nature you see from me?). That’s what you do to stay sane with it. Or at least that’s how it works for me.

On Day 9, post-biopsy, I called. And sent an email. Had to know something.

That same afternoon (Thursday) a reply came from my oncologist’s nurse. Results were in. Doctor will review. How did I wish to be notified? Phone call or electronicically through my health app?

App is fine. Makes it easier. A voice can be hard to listen to. Even when the voice is kindness itself.

Nothing the rest of the day. On the tenth day it came. Long report. Eyes racing through it, looking for the words. Not finding the words. The hard words.

Then a message pops in. From my doctor. Biopsy results. “Negative for cancer cells” it says. And that she will discuss my case at the next weekly conference what the next step is. (Conference is where cases are reviewed by Stanford liver oncologists and radiologists)

WHAT?? Questions! So many questions that could wait. The answers will come soon enough.

And just like that, just that immediately, again the rollercoaster made it to the very, extremely elevated top, and then WHOOSH! Went down in an exhilarating thrill that wrung me out.

I let out my breath. Read those words again. Again. And again with eyes too tear filled to see. Stood up. Shaking knees. Pounding heart. Because for today, for right now, I’d been blessed. And given what I needed the most of all things life-sustaining.

Hope.

09/04/2022

Well. This is a fine mess I've gotten myself into...

It's been a long time since I posted here; I'm not sure why because things were perking right along. Had the surgery, had the radiation, had great results (no spread to lymph nodes) with the breast cancer.

And I DO have so much to tell you about that journey. It was interesting, scary, joyous. But I will get to all that later.

First: the new wrinkle. If you don't already know, I was diagnosed with a liver disease (NASH) about 4 years ago, which was brought on (most likely) by an abusive amount of Ibuprofen that I dosed myself with for over 20 years - using the maximum dose per day. Pain from old dance injuries and worsening arthritis (and lugging around too many lbs.) were the culprits.

This damage, (Non-alcoholic stetohepititis) then progressed to cirrhosis of the liver (and nope, not a closet drinker, not ever), which can of course lead to all sorts of other complications...such as death. But I jumped on and was doing fine. CT Scans with contrast done every 6 months because people with liver disease are more apt to get liver cancer over time.

Then, about a year ago, some new lesions (4 of them) were noted on my scans (by this time I was getting MRI's due to having radiation in the treatment of the breast cancer business). So, my sweet doctor who has been safeguarding that important organ of mine, upped the MRIs to every three months in order to watch.

In May, there was a bit of a change; a slight growth in a couple of lesions. Not a dire situation, just a change. A chance it was cancer. A chance it was benign. Hence, I decided to wait until the next go around, which was on August 8.

I was a bit freaked out, as they say, because the August MRI results were not immediately released to me like they had been in the past. So I waited until I was able to talk to my doctor again (via Zoom, she is out on maternity leave) a couple of weeks ago.

Turns out, one of the lesions has progressed and now has the characteristics of liver cancer. Thus, my case was turned over to the liver oncologists and radiologists at Stanford that meet weekly to brainstorm their cases and make recommendations for treatment.

I had my first session with the liver expert in the oncology department who gave me the hopeful news that we caught it early, lesion is still small, etc. With today's imaging, she said, they could most likely proceed without doing a biopsy. Yay. And some other stuff, both good and not so much.

She explained the type of treatment she was going to recommend, if I was agreeable to it, which is called TACE (for short) but is basically a chemotherapy treatment given one time that shoots the cancer-killer straight at the lesion via the blood vessels that feed directly into the liver. Amazing technology that they've been using for about 10 years. So I wasn't going to be her first rodeo!

She was taking my case to the team for their opinion.

Consequently, the team determined that since I had so recently contracted and recovered from breast cancer that I should indeed have a biopsy to determine if this liver business is separate or if it's an offshoot of the breast cancer. Maybe they treat them differently, I don't know. I was kind of spinning when I got the call, and no intelligent questions were coming into my head at the time.

So, they aren't messing around with this, thankfully, and I am scheduled for the biopsy on Wednesday, Sept. 7 at Stanford Hospital in Palo Alto. Outpatient, 4-6 hours when all is said and done.

So, that is the latest, my friends. Naturally, I'm jumpy as all get-out because these medical things keep leaping out of nowhere, and I would really, really, really love to get on with the business of enjoying life without quite so much drama.

One of my friends told me I must have really messed up in a previous life because I was sure paying the price now! Yep, could be. Either that or I'm paying for all of this life's transgressions at once! So there's that.

The pretty bracelet in the photo was sent to me by my very sweet friend in San Diego, Diana, and I won't say her last name unless she says it's ok...but I love it (and her!) so much and I'll soon be wearing it in - I hope - good health.

If you're still with me, thank you for reading to here...it's been kind of hard to post on this page, but since I started this page over a year ago, I wanted to roll it out again and ask you if you'd like to ride along.

Thank you all, so very, very much for your love and friendship throughout all of this crazy trip. It means so much to me.
Much, Much Love, and I'll let you know more soon,
Gale

10/25/2021

The Before (WAY before) and the After...

Same girl. But different.

More soon. Not that big of a mystery. ☺️

10/01/2021

Hello, my friends, it's been awhile since I posted here, mostly because I am in what seems to be a perpetual holding pattern, always waiting for results.

Before rambling on, this beautiful painting was created by Russian contemporary artist Nikolay Lukyanov, "Still Life with Grapes," Oil on canvas. It reminds me of our upcoming grape harvesting season. On warm autumn afternoons, the sun lights the grapes seemingly from within while the leaves begin to dry and turn to the richly vibrant shades of fall.

So, here is where we are presently in the wonderland of cancer diagnosis and treatment.

In August I met the third member of my trifecta of oncology specialists, Dr. George Sledge. I did win the lottery with Dr. Sledge. In learning about him prior to our first meeting, I found he is quite a pioneer and "revolutionized" the treatment of breast cancer. No longer is chemotherapy an automatic treatment. Dr. Sledge, in his years of research with other scientists and doctors, determined that 30-40% of breast cancer patients don't need or respond well to chemotherapy. His recommendation for those patients is medication and radiation - and surgery if needed.

The kind of cancer I have is estrogen receptor positive, meaning I have too much estrogen running around inside of me so the preferred medication would be an estrogen blocker for 5 years - if my liver doctor gives her blessing. Since cancer feeds on estrogen, this seems like a logical treatment.

Interestingly, he said at our initial meeting that he won't recommend me for chemotherapy, which is at least partially due to having liver disease.

The status of treatments is thus: breast biopsy determined that I needed surgery for removal of breast tissue for two areas. One was in "situ" meaning that the cancer cells were confined to the duct. The second area was invasive, meaning it had the jail breakers that penetrated the duct and were swimming about looking for new havoc to spread. How soon you catch the swimmers at that point is a big factor in the success or lack thereof for treatment.

My cancer stage was up? or down? graded from Stage I to Stage IIA.

The wait for treatment is due to inconclusive test results.

In September, older daughter Ashley Hammond Stromberg and I went to stay overnight in Redwood City because I had an early MRI of my sentinel lymph node, which was "suspicious." Having a thickened cortex and the node being enlarged, it could be affected by cancer cells. Or not. Unfortunately, the MRI was unable to detect which it was for sure. But I'm still counting that as a victory.

Next course of action was a biopsy of that lymph node, which I had in Palo Alto two days ago. That lymph node, turns out, was buried deep, obscured by my pectoral muscle and lodged against my chest wall. Leave it to me to have gymnastically talented lymph nodes.

There was a team of two doctors, a technician and a nurse in the room with me for that party. Had local anesthetics and other than having to keep my right arm elevated above my head for 30 minutes (the one with a torn rotator cuff) it was pretty painless. My shoulder says otherwise.

The doctor went in as deep as she could to withdraw fluid but was unsure whether she actually reached the lymph node due to its odd location. She showed me what she withdrew; a couple of small dancing blobs in a clear fluid that would (hopefully) determine if the lymph node was malignant. The pathology report will reveal if the sample was from the lymph node - or not.

They all did their best but the doctor said it would be too dangerous to go any deeper because she was so close to my lung and didn't want to risk puncturing it. They track what they're doing via ultrasound.

Regarding my liver...I have four lesions on my liver that - again - might or might not be malignant. Unfortunately, the MRI was unable to determine for sure. So it's back to the drawing board and another MRI scheduled for December 5 to see if there is any change. If results are still inconclusive, next options for diagnosis are another CT scan to look for growth or changes, a PET scan or a liver biopsy.

If either of the two areas they're watching are cancerous, options are the following - surgery for removal of lymph node. Follow-up with radiation. For the liver treatment would entail radiation, surgery, or - if all else fails - transplant.

This was a long post, everybody. If you stuck it out with me, thank you.

Bottom line here is this: Don't put off any tests your doctor recommends for you. Then, most importantly, find things that make you happy and help take your mind off the things that loom ahead.

Regard diagnosis and treatment as something that your body wants to help you with; your body will fight to survive, and you can help your chance of recovery increase exponentially by keeping your attitude positive, your willingness to fight strong, and the good grace of friends who are in your corner.

Will update again soon. Thank you again so much. Good health and happiness to you all.
Much Love.

09/09/2021

“We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.”
Anais Nin

Albert Edelfelt - The Dairymaid , 1889.