Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Well - It's done and we LOVE it! Ema knew she didn't want to watch her hair fall out, day-by-day and feel self-conscious about it. Plus, she said looking in the mirror was becoming depressing because she looked sicker than she really is! She called Linda and between the three of us, we rid her of all that pesky hair. The kids were great with it - even Juliana said "Mommy, you look beautiful!" Chemotherapy is hard. She has her good days and bad. There's one drug, in particular, that Ema gets to help her boost her immune system that makes her feel flu-ish - ironic, ehe? Besides that, and the general fatigue from the treatments, she's doing great, and her attitude is as terrific as ever. More photos HERE. Back soon - Tom

A Little Kissing Up Doesn't Hurt

Ema's first day of chemotherapy was this past Thursday. Note the chocolates next to her. She brought them as bribes to the nurses so they would be kind with their needles. Hey - attitude is everything, but a little kissing up doesn't hurt either!

Under her right shoulder blade there's a miraculous little, self-sealing silicone device - a medi-port (or porta-cath) that allows up to 1,000 needle punctures without the need to prod around for a good vein to use each time. We are so thankful for this type of technology. She'll be doing chemo through late June once per week - two weeks on, one week off.

Feel free to leave words of encouragement as comments on this blog, and I'll be sure she gets them.

Thanks!

Tom

Chemotherapy

Hi folks - It's been over a month since the last Ema update, and something happened earlier this week that we wanted to share.

Ema visited her oncologist (one of her oncologists, actually - she has a team of them), and he told her he'd like for her to start chemotherapy next week.

This was unexpected since we were told back in November that we could wait to use chemo in the event of a relapse.

Well, the UCLA oncology board revisited her case and decided that, since the tumor was 5cm - the exact cutoff size for recommending chemo, and it was a very aggressive, rare type of tumor, that chemo would be a good thing at this point.

Ema's attitude is amazing. She's not looking forward to losing her hair, but beyond that, she's taking all of this really well.

In a sense, we both feel a little better about her situation because, until this news, it was up to us to make the decision regarding chemo at this time. She was borderline, and the doctors left the decision up to us. It's comforting, in a way, to have the doctors go ahead and recommend what they believe is best at this point. Chemo is pretty nasty stuff, but so is soft-tissue sarcomas. Better safe than sorry.

Ema had chemo before - some fifteen years ago when she had Hodgkin's disease. She lost her hair then, which was stick straight, and it grew back wavy. We're joking now that it will probably grow back in tight curls - ala Freida - the little curly-headed girl in Charlie Brown.

She starts chemo next week, and has to sit in the chair for about 5 hours once per week for her treatments which will last four months - maybe five.

I'm firing up this journal again to keep you folks up to date, and we'll give more details in the next podcast.

Thanks!

Tom

Heading into the Holidays

It's been a few weeks since I posted an Ema update, so here's what's happening. Ema is undergoing her 4th week of radiation therapy on the tumor site (leg). She is doing very well with only minor fatigue and very little blistering.

Her attitude is amazing. I told her yesterday that I'm stunned at how positive she is being through all of this.

We can thank her radiologist and his team for their kindness and expertise during each one of Ema's 5-day-per-week visits to their clinic.

She will be finished with her treatments before Christmas, so we'll have even more reason to celebrate!

Ema and I are planning our Christmas Podcast episode, which will also be our 50th episode - stay tuned for that within the next week or so.

All the best to you, our loyal listeners.

Cheers,

Tom

Good News and Radiation Time

Great News! We received the PET/CT results yesterday and they show no signs of abnormal cell activity!

Ema started radiation treatment yesterday. That's going to be five days per week for 6 1/2 weeks. We are prepared for anything, but so glad that all we have to do for now is radiate the leg, start physical therapy and keep our eyes focused on the future.

We just made reservations for next summer's vacation at the Santa Barbara Family Vacation Center. Same as this past year. So, yes, we are literally 'banking' on Ema being well.

Thanks for all your prayers and kind thoughts. The next few entries will contain excerpts from Ema's personal cancer journal.

Today's word of the day: Persevere

- Tom

Waiting for Tests

We’re waiting for the results of Ema’s PET/CT scan done Monday. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the gravity of these tests. In the time frame of one phone call from the radiologist, our future will be disclosed. If we hear “All clear” – then we take a deep breath and continue as planned with the radiation treatments this week, and schedule another full-body PET/CT scan for a few months from now. If we hear “We see some areas that concern us” – then our hearts sink into our guts and we succumb to the inevitable shock while frantically phoning our team of oncologists.

Yes, these are very stressful times, but somehow we persevere. As much as I hate having our future hinged on the results of a test, I’m glad we opted to get this test done. It wasn’t presented as an option by any of Ema’s oncologists. She heard about it from the lab tech who performed her last CT scan. Turns out the oncologists all agreed the test was a good idea, just not something they usually prescribe. So, thank you lab tech guy. As agonizing as it is to wait for the results, we are grateful to you for recommending it.

Something Good Could Happen

“Something Good Could Happen!” Ema wrote that in large, block letters on a sheet of note paper then taped it next to the computer monitor in our bedroom. You can see it from any point in the room, and I find myself glancing at it often – especially in the quiet of the evening after the kids have gone to bed. I like the simplicity of it, the humbleness, and the fact that it so adequately summarizes our struggle to stay optimistic in the face of this disease. Ema is scheduled to go in on Monday to get a PET/CT scan. This will show any hotbeds of cellular activity in her body. Generally speaking, you don't want any 'hotbeds' of cell clusters growing wildly in your body. That's a sure sign of cellular malfunction. In Ema's case, this will indicate cancer cells forming tumors. So, here we go again with more tests, more fingers crossing, more praying, more waiting.

I’m thinking of adding another note to adorn the left side of the monitor. It will read, “We Have Today.” That’s something I’ve been giving a lot of thought to lately. In a world where anything can happen at any time – fire storms, accidents, cancer – that message seems to be both universal and personal at the same time. There’s that theme again – the more personal you become, the more universal you become as well. See – like it or not, we’re all in this together. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

- Tom