Important Dates

  • Born: March 16, 1975
  • Diagnosed MFH Sarcoma: December 2008
  • Died: February 23, 2011

Friday, April 30, 2010

GOOD NEWS!!! - Update April 30, 2010

A short while ago Pete went out to dinner with his best friend, Tim, and Tim's wife. He just called me to give me some wonderful news. He went for his CT scan this morning and just now he got a call from his oncologist. The report came in and every one of his lung mets have SHRUNK!!!! I can't even begin to tell you how happy I was when I heard that.

Thank you, everyone, for all the prayers, lit candles, good wishes, positive energy and crossed fingers you've been sending our way. Thank you, God.

I'm sitting here sobbing because when he told me a huge wave of relief came over me. If there was a mountain nearby, I'd be running to the top so that I could tell the whole world this wonderful news, but since there's no mountain, this is the best way I know of to share it with everyone.

CT Scan Today - April 30, 2010

Pete left a short time ago to have his CT scan. He has to get there about 1/2 hr ahead of the appointment because he has to drink a contrast cocktail.

The knot in the pit of my stomach will just keep getting tighter and tighter until we get the results from the MSKCC doctor on Tuesday. I cannot even begin to count the number of times I have wished, hoped and prayed that this chemo will have an affect and the report will be good. It seems that I pray and wish constantly, even when I wake up in the middle of the night.

Friday, April 23, 2010

The Waiting Game - April 23, 2010

We get to practice waiting quite a bit, but no matter how much we practice, I'm still not very good at it.

Pete had his second infusion Wednesday afternoon. Before they started it we went in and spoke with Dr. W who was very pleased to find out that the lump Pete had found in his arm pit is almost gone. He was also pleased that Pete did not have any notable adverse effects following the first infusion 3 weeks ago. He gave Pete a script for the CT scan which will be scheduled for Thursday or Friday of next week. That will give the radiologist sufficient time to complete the report and have it ready for Dr. K (MSKCC) when we go to get the results from her on Tuesday, May 4.

Dr. W said to hold off on increasing the Sirolimus to twice a day until after we get the results.

The infusion lasted about 3 hrs, finishing up sometime after 5 PM. The amount of this particular chemo is calculated based on surface area. Since Pete is about 6' 4" and a bit over 200#s, he has quite a bit of surface area. When they first hooked him up they were trying to decide whether to give it all in one day or split it into 2 doses which would mean he would have to come back the next day to finish up. The doctor decided to have him do it in one sitting, which was fine with Pete.

When we were heading out to the car Pete said his stomach was feeling a bit odd, but he said it wasn't really nausea, and went to visit his father after dinner. He felt well enough on Thursday to do some errands during the afternoon, and I gave him his Nulasta shot after dinner (he's supposed to get it about 24 hrs after the chemo is administered).

He didn't sleep very well last night and again wasn't feeling great this morning, but he did go in to work. I had a hunch that he might not make a full day and he didn't, coming back home early in the afternoon. Hopefully he'll have a more restful night tonight.

So we're back to waiting. Waiting while the chemo attacks the cancer cells. Waiting while it halts and, even better, reduces the tumors. Waiting for the CT scan. Waiting to get the results of the CT scan. We do a lot of waiting, but it never gets any easier.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

California's a Long Way Away - April 20, 2010

At the moment, things with my son are moving along. We don't know what direction yet, but the days are as "normal" as they can be; he's feeling ok, puts in a full day at work, and if you didn't know him and passed him on the street you wouldn't suspect there was any problem. Being as blond as he is, it's not apparent that he has no body hair until you get close.

So what's up with California? Well, my daughter lives out there and I'd like to give her a hug but that's hard to do, living here in NJ. Her husband went for a physical and apparently an x-ray showed an unidentified shadow on his liver. He's going to have to go in for additional tests and MRI, so she's a bit freaked out and with all that's gone on with Pete, I can certainly understand. Now we're all waiting on 2 fronts. When we talk on the phone it's clear that both of us wish we lived closer. It's tough being separated by 3,000 miles when things are going well, but it's especially difficult at times like these.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Wait and Watch - April 13, 2010

That's the advice from the oncologist, who thinks it very well may be the same as the lump that appeared and then disappeared back in December.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Another Day, Another Lump - April 12, 2010

Pete came into the computer room this morning after he showered. He was dressed for work but apparently he had discovered a small lump, about the size of a pea, in his armpit. He put a call in to his oncologist as soon as they opened and waited for a call back. He got the call while he was on his way to work and then called me to tell me that he's got an appointment for 3 this afternoon. I asked if he'd please pick me up on his way, but he didn't sound very enthusiastic about that and said he'd be leaving work around 2 and would talk to me later.

It's about 1:15 now.

In one of my earlier posts (Dec 19, 2009 - And the Hits Keep Comin'), he had a lump similarly pop up, but it was on his arm, just a little below the inside bend of the elbow. The doctor had ordered a sonogram but they were never able to determine what it was. They were going to order a biopsy, but that was just about the same time that they found the brain tumor, which was much more critical. That little lump on his arm just disappeared as mysteriously as it had appeared. We're hoping that this little lump is the same kind of thing and that it will just quietly go away.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Hope - April 10-11, 2010


Gina, Pete's sister who teaches English/Journalism at a high school in CA, just got home from chaperoning a group of twenty freshmen and sophomores at a local "Relay for Life", sponsored by the American Cancer Society. There were over 500 participants from 38 teams involved in this event and as of a short time ago the unofficial total raised was over $40k and they were still counting.

Her students, knowing that her husband, a math teacher at one of the other high schools in the same district, is in a band, asked if he would consider volunteering his band to provide some of the entertainment during the Relay. Of course, he said "yes".


The following are excerpts from  ACS - Relay for Life Information

The Luminaria ceremony offers everyone at Relay the opportunity to pay tribute to those who have faced cancer. Some celebrate the lives of those who have battled cancer and have lived to tell their stories. Many remember the lives of those who have been lost to this disease. All represent someone special who has been profoundly affected by cancer and the family and friends who continue to fight back in their honor.

About Relay For Life

Teams of people camp out at a local high school, park, or fairground and take turns walking or running around a track or path. Each team is asked to have a representative on the track at all times during the event. Relays are 24 hours in length; representing the reality that cancer never sleeps. By participating, you honor cancer survivors, pay tribute to the lives we've lost to the disease, and raise money to help fight cancer in your community.

Relay began in 1985 when Dr. Gordy Klatt, a colorectal surgeon in Tacoma, Washington, ran and walked around a track for 24 hours to raise money for the American Cancer Society. Since then, Relay has grown from a single man’s passion to fight cancer into the world’s largest movement to end the disease.

Friday, April 2, 2010

I Want You to Understand... - April 2, 2010

My son is not always communicative, so when he is in the mood to talk, I am there for him.

The other day he said, "Mom, I want you to understand that I'm not giving up. I'm going to keep fighting, but I have to be realistic. I'm going to die, so before I do, there are some things I'd like to do while I still can."

With that as a springboard, we had a surreal, non-emotional conversation. It was all very matter-of-fact. He's right. He will die. So will I. Either one of us could get killed in a car accident tomorrow. I know why he said what he said and I do understand. I take him at his word. He will not give up, and neither will I. There is always hope to hold onto no matter how fragile or distant it is or how uncertain the prognosis.