It's Not A Tumor - say it with an Austrian accent (think 'Kindergarten Cop')

Rob is continuing to gain strength. He still gets tired very easily, but tries his hardest to be fully functional while around the kids and me. That sounds really bad, doesn't it? Let me rephrase. He is very tired. If he doesn't take a nap, he wears out easily. He is generally ready to go to bed around 8:30 pm. I guess it will be easier for him to retire at a decent hour next week with the arrival of Daylight Saving Time.

Today he played "Phase 10" with Gabrielle - he told her that she was just like her Mom (that's me). She said, "Thank you!" Yes, she beat him at the game, just like I do. That was the highlight of my day!

My boss, Brent, heard back from his colleague at MD Anderson. Brent had outlined Rob's history, surgical, and pathology reports and other necessary information. This was the colleague's response:

No additional advice internally. It is as I suspected. No additional benefit from adjuvant chemotherapy.

Brent pointed out that the key phrase is "No additional benefit from adjuvant chemotherapy." He assured me that just because they are saying 'no additional benefit...' does not equate a death sentence. Well. That's good. Not quite ready for that juncture in life. He also said that doctors will often throw everything in the book at you to get you better - because they can - not because it is best for you.

At some point, we have to decide whether the treatment outweighs any possible benefit.

I have these nagging thoughts in the back of my mind, (I wonder how many people would feel this way, if they had to make this decision) that if we do nothing, it implies we are giving up, giving in to the cancer. Analytically, I know that by just being seen and having scans it does not mean that we are giving up. I just know how nasty the treatment is and what statistics are for another recurrence, etc.

We still have to wait for the tumor to come back from Denver (or at least the report - do you think that they will stick the tumor in an envelope and mail it back to Salt Lake? Hmmm, think on that. FRAGILE - do not bend, do not squish.).

I know, from watching Rob, that chemotherapy is an ugly beast, just waiting to take hold and consume its prey. It is awful. I think that he is tired now. Right. Chemotherapy exhaustion is just as bad, if not worse. Not to mention the side effects.

So, what does that mean? Basically, MD Anderson doctors are giving us the same information that the Cancer Review Board at Intermountain gave us. They just don't have enough data, enough science, to really make an informed decision to pass on to us.

So, we wait for the tumor.

While waiting, you could read the following story: Rob could have a worm in his lung instead of a tumor...THAT would be funny!