I Want a Second Opinion
After we spent a few days walking around in a daze we realized that we were not ready to give up. When Dr R1 called to say that he had Joe's surgery date scheduled he told the Dr. that he had decided to get a second opinion. Dr. R1 was less than pleased to hear that but he did recommend Ironwood Cancer Center. Don't think that we were not still rocked to the core with this news - it was almost more than anyone could even imagine. Joe cried - a lot - saying he was sorry he was leaving me with the girls so young. It broke my heart for him to think he had anything to do with being diagnosed with cancer. There were so many emotions and feelings that crossed our minds and hearts in the 10 days between being handed a life sentence and the first meeting with the medical oncologist at Ironwood. Never once tho did Joe ever ask "why me" or even question God about why this could happen. I can tell you that over the next 8 years until Joe's death, he never said that, ever.
With great fear, hopefulness, hopelessness and excitement Joe and I met with the
medical oncologist (who just happens to
specialize in neck and throat cancer) and he gave us a TOTALLY
different take on Joe's cancer. First and
foremost - he did have Stage IV cancer of the neck and throat. However, Dr. S. told us it was treatable with chemo
and radiation. The type of cells that Joe's
cancer was almost always responded favorably to the combined chemo/radiation treatment. I do not remember what words I used but I asked about Dr R1's diagnosis and Dr. S put his hands on both of our knees and said "there is no eminent danger of death, we can beat this".
WHAT!!!!
WHAT!!!!
So you ask, now what.
Joe had to obtain a doctor and be declared physically fit for this fight he was going to start. He found a doctor that was a true answer to prayer. They had family roots history and talked in their own special Philadelphia dialect. Sometimes I just sat and stared at them - they acted like best friends. Joe trusted him with his life, more than once.
He had a port-a-cath installed into his chest so that the chemo wouldn't destroy his veins. He had a feeding tube put into his belly so that when the burns from the radiation became so bad he could still receive nourishment. He was prepped and ready to begin the battle for his life.
There were good treatment days and there were bad treatment days. Sometimes the 8 hours of chemo knocked him on his butt for days and sometimes he was energized. Eventually around radiation number 20, the impact of the chemo and the radiation was too totally draining. He would come home and lie down and need 2 or 3 days to recover. The burns became so bad on the inside and outside of his throat that we had to begin using the feeding tube. At first it was awkward and clumsy but we got the hang of it. You will hear more about that in a few days.
We heard awesome words - the tumor is shrinking. 35 radiation treatments where Joe's head was bolted to a metal table with a mask that looked like something you would see in Halloween movies. 7 weeks of 8 hour days with the drip drip drip of so many different bags of poison. So much pain that I learned how to make an incredible morphine cocktail that allowed Joe to sleep for at least 4 hours without pain. Again, he never complained.
The first of November brought an end to the torture treatments. Exams, scans, X-rays brought results with words we never thought we would hear "there is no evidence of disease". Hallelujah Thank you Jesus! I can still remember when we walked out of Ironwood for the last time how the nurses clapped and cheered. For a man who walked in that place 3 months earlier with the weight of the world on his shoulders to someone who had truly been given a second chance of life. Life was better than excellent.
We celebrated by having all 6 of our children and their families here for several days at Thanksgiving. The house was full of family and love and food - lots and lots of food. Joe cooked for his children even though it would still be several weeks before he could eat. On Thanksgiving Day we had a house full of thankfulness.
We celebrated Christmas by driving across Texas to spend the holidays with our best friends and Joe showing off his old haunts in Texas. Joe was stationed at the Texas White House during the Vietnam War except for the time he was in country being exposed to Agent Orange. We learned a lot about that little gift that keep on giving a few years down the road. But for now we were happy. Joe was eating. Joe was smiling. Joe was living.
First of the year came and he had a follow up appointment with his oncologists and they wanted to start a second round of chemo - just to make sure they got all of those little cancer cells. Joe was up and ready for it - I mean the first time wasn't that bad, what could possibly go wrong.
He had a port-a-cath installed into his chest so that the chemo wouldn't destroy his veins. He had a feeding tube put into his belly so that when the burns from the radiation became so bad he could still receive nourishment. He was prepped and ready to begin the battle for his life.
There were good treatment days and there were bad treatment days. Sometimes the 8 hours of chemo knocked him on his butt for days and sometimes he was energized. Eventually around radiation number 20, the impact of the chemo and the radiation was too totally draining. He would come home and lie down and need 2 or 3 days to recover. The burns became so bad on the inside and outside of his throat that we had to begin using the feeding tube. At first it was awkward and clumsy but we got the hang of it. You will hear more about that in a few days.
We heard awesome words - the tumor is shrinking. 35 radiation treatments where Joe's head was bolted to a metal table with a mask that looked like something you would see in Halloween movies. 7 weeks of 8 hour days with the drip drip drip of so many different bags of poison. So much pain that I learned how to make an incredible morphine cocktail that allowed Joe to sleep for at least 4 hours without pain. Again, he never complained.
The first of November brought an end to the torture treatments. Exams, scans, X-rays brought results with words we never thought we would hear "there is no evidence of disease". Hallelujah Thank you Jesus! I can still remember when we walked out of Ironwood for the last time how the nurses clapped and cheered. For a man who walked in that place 3 months earlier with the weight of the world on his shoulders to someone who had truly been given a second chance of life. Life was better than excellent.
We celebrated by having all 6 of our children and their families here for several days at Thanksgiving. The house was full of family and love and food - lots and lots of food. Joe cooked for his children even though it would still be several weeks before he could eat. On Thanksgiving Day we had a house full of thankfulness.
We celebrated Christmas by driving across Texas to spend the holidays with our best friends and Joe showing off his old haunts in Texas. Joe was stationed at the Texas White House during the Vietnam War except for the time he was in country being exposed to Agent Orange. We learned a lot about that little gift that keep on giving a few years down the road. But for now we were happy. Joe was eating. Joe was smiling. Joe was living.
First of the year came and he had a follow up appointment with his oncologists and they wanted to start a second round of chemo - just to make sure they got all of those little cancer cells. Joe was up and ready for it - I mean the first time wasn't that bad, what could possibly go wrong.
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