Week #6 & Rock #3
After a great weekend with the girls and a not-so-great hangover yesterday, I'm back! The weekend was wonderful; pretty mellow for Vegas standards, but honestly, that was what I needed. I was so, so happy to see my girlfriends and really thankful that everyone took the time to come out and celebrate with me. We had late nights, great dinners, poolside cabana time, dancing and lots and lots of booze. All things considered, I think I did pretty well this weekend. My energy level definitely isn't where it once was a few months ago (stress and sleepless nights, anyone?), so I pretty much asked my friends to handle the decision-making once we were in Vegas. I don't think they took me seriously at first, because people kept saying to me, "what do YOU want to do??? You're the bride!!" It was hard to explain that after being responsible for making every single decision, all day long, I was seriously more than happy to sit and do anything and everything that they wanted. Nothing made me more happy than to see everyone else having a wonderful time, whether it was winning (or losing) at blackjack, searching for booze at 3am (it's harder to find than you'd think), or deciding that watching cover bands are waaaay more fun than going to the newest/hottest clubs. It sounds to strange to say I was "along for the ride" on my own bachelorette party, but it's the truth and it was perfect. After all was said and done, I only had one emotional moment but otherwise had an awesome time! And if I ever see the "Dragon Slayer" shot again, it will be much, much too soon...
After sleeping off the effects of Vegas yesterday, I woke up to an amazing realization today: we're in the LAST week of treatment. Week six of six. Holy crap. I can't believe we've come so far in such a short period of time. The entire span of 42 days is coming to a close, and I can see the joy in Bryan's demeanor. His energy level is the same as it was in the FIRST week of treatment. And from what our doctor said this morning, that's not very common.
We're doing the 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 radiation countdown this week, and today we crossed off #5. He's got four days left and this morning we met with our neuro oncologist for Bryan's week #6 check-up. It was business as usual, and we had great pre-doctor consults with our nurse and Physician's Assistant. Bryan's symptoms are still pretty rough, but like we've said, that's to be expected. He's got a new symptom that appeared about a week ago; when yawning, Bryan hears what sounds like soft wind chimes or a bubbling brook. When he's not yawning, sometimes people's voices and noises sound modulated, almost like they are mechanical or tinny. It doesn't happen all the time and it's not the quality of Bryan's hearing that is being affected, but rather the actual way the sounds are resonating in his ears.
Bryan brought this up to our doctor, who said that given the treatment area of the radiation, the auditory nerves are being affected by the swelling in his brain. He said this will absolutely go away once the radiation is done, and that pretty much his symptoms and brain swelling are going to the worst right now than they've been throughout the 5-week period. Check and check. No surprises there.
The place where I was surprised, but in a wonderful way, was when our doctor shared just how impressed he was with how Bryan had reacted to treatment. This was news to us, because we just assumed that everyone had the same experience with this course of treatment (naive, I know). He said that a lot of people don't react well to Bryan's prescribed course of radiation and Temodar (chemo pills), even though they come with the anti-nausea pills. He said that at this point during the treatment, a lot of people are typically so exhausted that they are sleeping 20 hours, feeling really nauseous and not truly able to do much in the way of a "regular" day.
But not Bryan. Bryan explained that while having his parents in town over the weekend, they ran multiple errands, went to movies, walked to dinners, etc. He said that other than having some crappy symptoms, he feels great and feel even more great knowing that this Friday is the end of treatment. His spirits are amazingly high and, to be honest, I think he's doing better this week than he has been over the past two weeks. In my opinion, week #4 was the hardest, emotionally perhaps, because he was smack in the middle of treatment, trying to plan details for his bachelor party as well as my birthday, and just felt worn down and stressed out by every little thing. Last week and today especially, I felt the cloud lift. It's a great, great feeling.
So after going through everything with our doctor, he said something that I consider to be "Rock #3." Remember when I talked about our good friend Jon, who used the analogy that when you get nuggets of good news, it's like getting hold of a rock to climb yourself out of the cancer hole? Well, today we got Rock #3. Our neuro oncologist, seeing the incredible way that Bryan has handled all six weeks of treatment (an anomaly, to say the least) and seeing the way that his blood levels have remained constant, his weight has remained pretty constant (give or take 7 pounds), and his energy level is soaring (all things considered), said something wonderful: that he's truly "optimistic."
While that may seem like a really minor thing to get excited about, this isn't something you hear a lot when it comes to brain tumors. This isn't a cold or an infection where a doctor gives you a prescription, pats your head and sends you on your merry way to heal. This is an entirely different ballgame, where most times you hear nothing but bad news, and doctors will NOT wager to say anything optimistic (they're realists, rather) unless they truly believe it. And our doctor truly believes it. He really enjoys having Bryan as a patient and is so happy at the way he has progressed. For him to say that "Bryan is exactly where I would have hoped for him to be right now, which is great news. Not a lot of patients handle treatment the way he has. Now, I'm not a betting man, but I'd say I'm optimistic."
That was all we needed to boost out spirits for the entire day. The best part was that Bryan's mom came to the appointment with us and got to see and hear, with her own eyes and ears, the respect and care with which the doctrs treat her son and his disease. Cedars' neurology institute is really an amazing place with wonderful, brilliant professionals. But more than that, they are good people; not overly clinical, unemotional doctors. Getting to hear about their "optimism" was definitely an amazing moment. Not to mention, our neuro oncologist said that two weeks from now (our wedding weekend), Bryan will be feeling like a "million bucks!"
I'm tempted to consider that statement "Rock #4"...
Comments [5]