Category: Carrie-Anne (Page 5 of 13)

Kickoff is set for February 3, two weeks from this Friday, and the plan is to completely eradicate this cancer thing.

Carrie-Anne and I met today with our oncologist here at the Midland Allison Cancer Center to work out the treatments and the time frames for her chemotherapy. Dr. Manny Mangat didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know, but he certainly assured us that what M.D. Anderson is prescribing is the right thing and he’ll do it for us exactly as prescribed.

It’s a six month process – once  every three weeks for three months and then once a week for the next three months. The infusions will be on Fridays, to give C-A a couple of days to rest before she goes back to work. (Yes, she intends to work through this. Have you met my wife?) Each infusion will last between 60-90 minutes and we’ll get to do them all at the Allison Center, less than three miles from our house.

Between now and February 3, she’ll have an echo-cardiogram, some blood work, an outpatient procedure to install her port, and a one-time orientation class for those about to undergo chemotherapy. We also have one more  trip to Houston January 26-27 for an adjustment to her reconstruction they wanted to accomplish before the chemo begins.

It felt a little different today. Walking alone from the front door of the hospital to the car in the parking garage, it felt really heavy. Talking to the oncologist about side effects and risks and hair loss, seeing the rooms where it’s going to happen, finalizing the dates – it felt/feels more real than maybe it has since we got the news 12-days ago. Definitely different. Carrie-Anne felt it, too. We both had tears in our eyes when I pulled the car up to get her at the door.

This is happening. And it’s okay. It’s not what either of us would have chosen, not at all. But it’s where we are and we’re doing it together with our Lord. He is with us. He is asking us to walk faithfully through a difficult trial and to lean on him and to point others to him. His desire is to use this season in our lives to grow in relationship with him and with each other, and that’s what we intend to do. We will be open to what he says to us along this journey and we will pay attention to what he shows us. We are confident. And he is faithful.

May our God’s holy will be done in and through my beautiful wife just as it is in heaven to his eternal glory and praise.

Peace,

Allan

Well, we are a long way from where we were five days ago. We have gone from “It’ll be a significant surgery and a tough four or five weeks but you’ll be completely done and cancer-free,” to “Six months of chemotherapy and regular scans and check-ups for five years.”

My beautiful wife, Carrie-Anne, is being prescribed multiple rounds of fairly aggressive chemotherapy because the cancer she has is fairly aggressive. It’s classified as a “triple-negative breast cancer,” a fairly uncommon form found only in ten-percent of women who have breast cancer, and typically in African American women and other women 40-years-old and younger. That’s not my wife; but here we are. We’re doing our best to arrange the chemo infusions through Texas Oncology in Midland – it looks very promising. It’ll be once every three weeks for three months and then once a week for three more months, hopefully beginning in the next ten days or so. When it’s over, in June, they’re saying we’ve got a 92% chance of the cancer not returning. Then M.D. Anderson will see her here in Houston every quarter for scans and checkups for two years, and then twice a year for three more years. If she stays cancer-free for the whole five years, then they believe we will be totally in the clear. We have learned over the past week there is no such thing as 100% when you’re dealing with cancer.

So we’ve moved from recovering from soreness and three or four trips to Houston for reconstruction to a five-year journey of chemotherapy and constantly looking over our shoulders. That’s a different deal than what we were initially told.

We have our final follow-up appointment with the plastic surgeon today at 11:30 – we’re not really sure how the chemo is going to impact her reconstruction, but we do know her final two drains are being removed – and then we’re heading home to Midland. We’re hoping to arrive at Stanglin Manor before 11:00pm, where our middle daughter, Valerie, will be waiting on us. She arrives in Midland later today and will stay with us through Monday morning.

The last four or five days have been an emotional roller coaster for us. The pathology report Friday was a gut punch in many respects and the meeting with the oncologist yesterday signaled lots of changes in plans and expectations and lifestyle for us. But we’re in good hands all the way around. And our Lord is faithful. We are sure of that.

Peace,

Allan

Well, the news at our second follow-up appointment yesterday was not nearly as good. The pathology reports came back and, instead of this being a stage-zero, non-invasive breast cancer as originally diagnosed, Carrie-Anne has a stage-one, invasive breast cancer. Not great.

What Carrie-Anne has is called “triple-negative breast cancer” – something having to do with three different indicators. It’s only found in 10% of those who have breast cancer and, yes, we’ve got it. Not awesome.

We are meeting with an oncologist either Monday or Tuesday to have what our surgeon says will be a “challenging conversation” about chemotherapy options and next steps. What they found is so tiny – borderline – there’s a chance they may recommend no chemo at all. But our surgeon seems to think we’re going to have to do some kind of chemo, some kind of diluted version, maybe, for a couple of months or so.

It’s just a punch in the gut because we thought we were near the end of this stressful road. But we’re still at the beginning, with a brand new set of issues and questions. The cancer in her body is gone, they got rid of everything. But because the cancer was invasive, there could be some of it in there somewhere and there’s no medical technology to chase it down and pinpoint its exact location – if it’s there at all. It’s more of the unknown, more uncertainty, with which to wrestle. So, at this point, our best understanding is that the chemotherapy is a preventative step, one that would eradicate whatever might still be in there somewhere. We’ll know much more Monday or Tuesday.

In the meantime, in your regular conversations with our Lord, would you please bring up my precious wife, Carrie-Anne? I know he’s very aware of what’s happening, but it would mean a lot to us if you would remind him. We had a rough day yesterday and we’ve got a rougher and longer road ahead than what we had been told.

Peace,

Allan