Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Scans, Scans, Scans...

E had a PET Scan yesterday at Sloan. Afterward he had treatment, but did not meet with the doctor. On March 2nd he will have a CT Scan, which was scheduled before the PET Scan was. We will not find out the results for either scan until our March 5th appointment. This also happens to be my 31st birthday, so I am hoping for the gift of improving health and clear scans.

As always, we ask that you continue to keep E and other cancer warriors in your prayers. We are praying to Catherine McAuley, foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, for Eric's miracle. She has been declared Venerable for all her works, and is well on her way to sainthood. Our hope is that Eric's miracle can be a result of her divine intercession.

O beloved Catherine,
through the power of my
most compassionate Lord
and Saviour, Jesus Christ,
I humbly beseech you to
look with love and pity on
Eric who is ill at this time.
Stir up in me the same
passion that impelled you
to respond to the needs of
your time.

Bless me with the sure
knowledge of your
presence and with a
complete trust in your
providence.

Use once again your spirit
of compassion and your
ardent desire to Alleviate
suffering and to restore
Eric to full health, if it is
God’s holy will.

I ask this in the name of
Jesus who lives and reigns
with the Father in unity
with the Holy Spirit.

Amen

Sunday, February 5, 2012

How the hell did this happen?

When Eric was first diagnosed, I didn't wonder how or why he got cancer. I just went into battle mode. I think I have said that a million times before. But over the past few months his cancer development has haunted me. I mean for christsake, how can one have NO SYMPTOMS for years...how can it be stage IV....when the hell did this start??


Eric has no family members that have had colon cancer, or any precancerous afflictions. No Crohns, no polyps, no issues. He never had blood in his stool, or irregular bowls really. I mean he poo'd when he needed to poo, didn't suffer from constipation, lose weight, or have difficulty with his intestines, yet when they finally discovered he had cancer, he was like 90% blocked in his colon. Forealzies, he could have died of sepsis before they ever found this.

No joke Eric had no symptoms until 12 hours before he went to the ER. Yes you heard that right 12 HOURS!!! He had been suffering from a sinus infection, so he took off Monday and went to the doctors. He was given meds and decided to take off Tues as well. Wednesday morning he woke up in the morning with me with, I believe ran some errands or something, then fell asleep because he just felt tired (not uncommon for a police officer who works shifts). He set is alarm clock so he would be awake for Logan when he came off the bus. Around 2:30-3 he started texting me telling me he was in a ton of pain. I called him. Convinced him to just go get himself to the doctors, and I would have someone get Logan. I had just started my job as an SBIS and as at school. It was the end of September. He went to the doc's office and they immediately saw he was in distress. They can a few tests and told him to get himself to the hospital. They weren't sure if it was a PE, his appendix, Pneumonia or what. De describe his pain like someone was stabbing him in the side and twisting the knife. I met him at Abington's ER.

He got so many tests that night. First the xray, then the CT- Scan, Then the MRI...they knew something was in the liver. They saw a thickening in the colon. But they didn't tell us a damn thing, they just admitted him and had him scheduled for a liver biopsy the following day, Thursday. The whole time I know they knew. They never gave us any information, made us sweat it out the whole weekend. Scheduled him for a colonoscopy that Monday. it was torture. Then of all people, a fucking 1st year med student told us Eric had cancer. She thought we had already been told and asked us if we wanted more info about his cancer. It was a nightmare. My poor Eric. He just cried and cried silently, and I just held him. I didn't cry, nor did I utter many words. But man did I pray. I screamed inside. I prayed so hard to God while I was holding him. I prayed for Eric to be well, I prayed for it all to be a big mistake even though I knew it wasn't. I prayed to grandfather Jim. I prayed with all of my being for him to give me strength. But I never, not once, asked "Why?".

By the grace of God my Aunt Eileen and my Mom Mom were there. Eileen knew the doctor, so she was able to remember the things I couldn't. I truly think my Pop Pop sent them. He wouldn't have wanted me to be alone. He made sure others were there so that I didn't fall apart. That was Monday. By Wednesday they were removing a part of his colon. Saturday he was discharged, and less then 2 weeks later we were meeting with Dr. D'Angelica up at Sloan. We raged on.

But this fall, after 16 surgeries/procedures, and months of chemo, 2 bouts of MRSA (one where I almost lost him), 6 months of being "cancer free", and the heartbreaking news that the cancer was back, I started to question. And I mean like really question. how the hell did this happen to him? Was it something he was born with, was he genetically flawed, did something else cause this?? How long had he had cancer? Could we have prevented this? Was there something we missed?
I had always been worried about colon cancer for myself. My paternal grandmother died of it. I knew the signs, he hadn't shown anything! And Eric was relatively HEALTHY! He was a strong, and active Police Officer. his only health issues were asthma, allergies, and skin problems. He wasn't sickly. So what the fuck made this happen?

It was then, I started to piece things together. After researching online, and looking at the normal progression of poylps to full cancer, i estimated that Eric was around mid to late 20's when his cancer began to develop. During that time he was in his best shape and most active. It was during that time that he was a narcotics officer. It was during that time, that he was headquartered at the former Frankford Arsenal, which ironically was located right next to Rohm and Haas Plant, and the Sunoco Chemical plant. I started to remember stories he told me about being told they could not drink the water, and that certain buildings/areas were considered hazards. I recalled one story he told me about the cops going out to there cars after a shift and there were million of dead bugs everywhere, like a light dusting of snow on the cars and the ground. He had also told me stories of warnings that had come from the plants when something had happened. I never recalled the specifics to those stories though. But the one thing I finally remembered, because he had mentioned it on several occasions, was the asbestos in the buildings. There were times when things broke (tiles, walls and such, whee they were wet down and covered before it could be moved. But contractors did what they want, and the buildings were so old they were forever falling apart. He was working so many hours that he practically lived there. And day after day he was being exposed to god knows what.

See the asbestos thing didn't jump out at me at first. I thought that led to mesothelioma and lung cancer. But I was CONVINCED that working at the arsenal had something to do with Eric developing cancer. I started researching environmental factors related to colon cancer. And there I found it, studies showing links between asbestos exposure and colon cancer. What.the.fuck.

We go up to NYC tomorrow for treatment, but we won't be seeing Dr. Kemeny again until March. But this is eating at me, and has been for quite some time. I finally shared my thoughts with Eric this weekend. I didn't want to scare him or overwhelm him, and I didnt want him to dwell on the negative, but it was irking the shit out of me. People still work there, hell my stepson goes to high school in the arsenal. i want to try and talk to someone about this. In my amateur research I saw that the arsenal was cited by the EPA in 2010 for not following protocol when disposing of Asbestos. I am sure that was going on for years, they just finally got caught. I also found that the arsenal is on a "hot list" of workplaces with extremely high likelihood of asbestos exposure. As crazy as it sounds, it all sort of makes sense. I need to talk to his doctors and find out if these is plausible. No one should have to go through this hell. I would feel terrible if I might have found a reason and didn't help prevent others from it.

Friday, February 3, 2012

bill collectors....

They love to use google. They are getting smarter. I think they google me and E and found this blog. So this message is to them:

-My husband has stage 4 cancer....so whatever money you are trying collect (if i in fact even have a debt to you) I am spending it on keeping my husband alive

-my mortgage is the 2nd most imp thing besides his medical needs/bills

-I haven't lived with my parents in nearly 8 years, stop calling them because that will make me not call people back.

-Dont try to bully. No one likes a bully. I am fighting for my husbands life, so I dont mind fighting with some asshole across the country on the phone. Hanging up is pretty easy, and i have all unknown numbers go to VM, soooooo You really aren't "bothering me"

-When things get better, I will fix my situation. Until then, the only thing I care about it my family, and keeping my husband alive.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

"If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it."-Toni Morrison

I feel like I am all alone. I know I am not. I know there must be other people out there going thru the same crap I am. But God do I feel alone, almost always.

I spent more time then needed talking to a woman at Gilda's Club yesterday afternoon then I really should have. I was looking for a support program for Logan. She was asking me about Lo and I started giving her background info. Then I started talking about myself, and how there is nothing out there, how I feel so lost and alone. She didn't really say anything on the other end, and I was grateful for that. She just let me vent. I needed that. When I got off the phone, i cried. Thank God I was alone in my empty classroom.

Things are really starting to hit me now. I am losing strength, losing momentum. The first year I ran on autopilot. I was in fight mode. There was never a dull moment. Not only was I fighting for and with E, but I was also trying to cope with him hating me.

It has taken a long time to finally admit this to anyone. I haven't really told a real person, but here I am writing it on the internet. My husband hated me. All the websites I consulted told me this was normal. That cancer patients often take it out on those they love the most. Its almost like a natural instinct to push away those that love you, so, in the patients mind, you won't be hurt if something tragic happens. I called bullshit on that often. I mean really, I have heard tragic diagnosis bringing people closer, but rarely pushing them apart. But how the hell would I really know, because I couldn't find anyone else like me out there, a 30 year old cancer spouse and caregiver.

There are lots of books and support groups, and online resources for parents of children with cancer. There are lots of things for breast cancer spouses, and people whose older parents have cancer. But nothing for people like me. Hell even E's cancer isn't common in young adults, although it is becoming increasingly so. It seems the only people close to my age are husbands whose wives are battling breast cancer. And they are lucky because they are given so many support. I am not bitter, I just wish there was something for me.

When we sit in the waiting room at the oncologists office, we look so out of place. I talk to my old lady friends who are fighting colon cancer, and their spouses. But shit its not the same. They have been blessed with the gift of time. I have been married for 40 months. E has been fighting cancer for 16 months. That's 40% of the time I have spent married. 40 effin percent!

Since I am all alone in this, I have turned to writing. Some of the stuff I wrote never made it to the blog. It was just too personal. Those months when E hated me were really really hard. I am thankful that it really was the treatment, as I had suspected, and not a true hatred for me. He finally realized just what he was doing and saying. Don't get me wrong, things aren't perfect. But then again I don't think any marriage is perfect. If its perfect, then in fact its fucked up. Because someone in that relationship is hiding their feelings, or they are putting on a show for everyone else. I have seen plenty of that, especially being a cop's wife. FAKE ASS FUCKED UP PEOPLE/MARRIAGES.

I am thinking about writing a memoir. More for myself then anyone else. It would be to help people who feel completely alone. It would be raw, it would be from the heart, it will show my hurt and my sorrow, and my happiness. It will show what it is really like to be a raging bitch inside, but have to play nice. It will show what it is like to fight tooth and nail for the love of your life. It will show what it is like to have your heart break into a million pieces. It will show what it is like to be all alone. It will contain foul language, and lots of ellipses...because I like them. it might even lack the proper use of capital letters because i am kind of a lazy typist. yea...this might just be a decent idea.