April 2010 Update

Cancer is lame. It is no respecter of persons. It doesn't care whom it attacks. It doesn't differentiate between hair, skin, or teeth color (hehehe).

It can be all-consuming, if one allows it to be such. One can focus all of one's energy on this nasty disease and make it the center of one's life. Conversely, one can choose to not allow the cancer to spread through every facet of one's life and only take days at a time to mourn the reality of what it means.

The latter is what we really try to do at the Finlinson household. I really do have my days (really). Rob has his days. Our beautiful children have their days. However, the best thing that we do is pick ourselves up and try to not focus on this hiccup we are having (you know, the cancer).

Some of those days rotate very strongly around when Rob has his scans. Well, let's be honest here. About three weeks prior, I get very anxious. A few days before the scan, I am even more anxious (is there even such a thing?). He gets the scan, we look at the results (thanks Intermountain), we wait a few days, we see the doctor, we schedule more appointments for another three months down the road. We then relax for a time. Then the whole process starts up again. Wheeeee! Isn't this fun?

There is a great song by Tim McGraw (no, in case you are wondering, I am not a fan of country music, but someone told me about this song) called "Live Like You Were Dying." The basic message of the song is that we don't know when this life will end, but we need to take it by the reigns and make the most of it. Enjoy our moments whilst we have them; don't look back on our lives with regret. This is what we have been attempting the last 4.5 years.

Something I tell my kids (much to their annoyance): "make your own magic." (Well, mostly, I tell them this when they tell me they are bored, but it works for this illustration.) We are making our own magic. We are spending time together, limiting our outside distractions to only what we want, playing a lot of games, talking, reading scriptures, praying, snorkeling, cross country skiing (well, Rob and the kids and their aunt Tarali - I have been too cold lately to go). We are making the magic that will be remembered (hopefully) by our children as happy times. We are living like we are dying.

We have had such an incredible blessing. This cancer has been a blessing. Can we even say that out loud? It is has been hard, don't get me wrong. Heart-wrenching hard. We have been given a gift of seeing our mortality and choosing how we want to spend our time. Our family has grown so close. Our family, our extended families, friends, church family, co-workers, and strangers have been touched by this cancer. Relationships have been strengthened. We have seen people band together in solidarity to pray for us, to make us meals, to pat our backs, hand us tissues, give hugs, and just listen. We are not the only people benefiting from this - those that are serving us are benefiting as well. I see the strength that comes to those that are trying to give us strength. The love, the caring, the empathy. We are blessed. They are blessed. You are blessed.

Our kids are all reacting to Rob's cancer differently. Jacob (13) is a bit angry. He is at a difficult age anyway and thinking about losing his dad is unthinkable. Gabrielle (11) just says, "This is life, there is nothing to do about it, so I am not going to think about it." Noah (8) holds on to Rob like he is going to be whisked away at any moment. The hugs he gives Rob would just break your heart. For the most part, cancer and their dad go hand in hand (in their mind). Jacob was Noah's age when Rob was first diagnosed. Gabrielle was six and Noah was three. Luckily, Rob has looked good for most of it. Not sickly...

Are you wondering whether I am going to update you on his scan?

• All three remaining lobes still have cancer in them: (check)
• Tumors doubled in size from December: (check)
• New spots showing up: (check)
• Scan in three months: (check)

Well, it seems as though it is business as usual (well, business with a bit of stress from a lot of people, NOT including myself and Rob). Nothing new - same as last time. Doubling, more/new, three months. (Just think, you could have skipped to this paragraph and found out all you wanted to know rather than wade through the rest!)

If there is any new information between now and July (like pneumonia or someone yelling "Bring out yer dead" in front of our house), I will update the blog. Are you on pins and needles?

Have a fantastic three months - minus any stress and anxiety!

With love, gratitude, and appreciation,

j

December Scan Results

Hey everyone. Did you think that we fell off of the face of the earth?

Rather than posting "He is still breathing" over and over again, I thought that I would just update when there are changes (i.e. when he has scans or when he stops breathing).

Monday, Rob had his 3 month PET scan. Yesterday, we met with Dr. Greg Litton (oncologist) to discuss the scan.

The scan showed some increasing of the scary masses I posted about in September. Additionally, there are more of said scary.

In essence, he said that Rob is not dying right now. Phew! (I guess the fact that the only thing is, is that he is tired, but still breathing is a good indicator...) He is not curable, but we are looking at different treatments further down the road to slow the growth of the growthssss (heehehe).

Rob will have another scan in four months.

Phew??

Well. Yesterday we met with Rob's oncologist.

The nasty that was on the right lobe is almost gone - what the?? I know! Amazing. We are going to celebrate that and not think about it (well, for at least another three months).

There is a bit of nasty on the left lung now. The doc is concerned about it, but the three of us decided not to think any more about it - until his next scan in December. At that time he will have a more detailed CT to help identify what exactly is showing in his left lung.

Right now, we are just counting our blessings and are sooooo grateful for the many prayers that have been said in Rob's behalf.

We are enjoying each other's company and are making many memories - regardless of what will happen. We don't want to take the time we have for granted.

PET Scan tomorrow

Tomorrow, Rob will be going to IMED for his PET scan. He needs to be there bright and early.

He is taking a nap now. Today, he had a full day: got up at 7:30, ate breakfast, went to church (3 hours), and ate lunch. Just like most people, he is taking a Sunday afternoon nap.

I think that some of his tiredness is rubbing off on me. I am exhausted. I am ready for a month-long vacation with nothing to do, but sit on a beach somewhere.

Rob's family will be in town over the next week and one-half. One-third of his siblings live in Florida, so it will be fantastic to see them. Hopefully, Rob can keep up with the festivities and not sleep mid-sentence (in case you are wondering, he is not that bad, yet - but he has an uncanny ability to fall asleep during an action-packed-nail-biting movie).

Anyway...We will be meeting with his oncologist on Wednesday. I will update then.

X-ray Vision

As you know (or don't), Rob had an X-ray and met with his oncologist this week.

As Rob and I thought, there really wasn't any reason to get our knickers in a twist regarding the X-ray. In June, the spots that had magically appeared on his PET scan were relatively small - didn't really see much on the X-ray. I think that the X-ray was more like a security blanket for all parties involved.

So, my thinking is that since X-rays are not as sensitive as say, for instance, PET scans, they will not show as much. (My friend Ann told me that an X-ray is how lung cancer used to be diagnosed - aren't we glad that we have much better tools nowadays?)

The plan for the next little while is to get another PET scan in September and see what is going on in that itty-bitty thing we call Rob's right lung.

P.S. He is still breathing. He's ALIVE!

I'm Not Dead Yet

On the way home from church today, Rob said to me, "I think that people think that I am close to dying. They seem surprised to see me walking around. They think that I should be on death's bed because the cancer is back."

I was talking to Elaine about it and she got the same feeling while talking to others. I was concerned that I said something in the blog, that he has one foot in the grave and the other is hanging perilously close to the edge. She assured me that I have not.

I know that recurrent cancer is not always a good thing, but seriously, he is not dead yet.

Dead men don't hike to Lake Katherine (or is it Catherine???) (three-hour round trip hike - uphill both ways! hehehe). We did this on Friday. He did, however, take a nice nap when we returned - but he did hike well.

To illustrate this, please read the the following quote from the immortal movie "Monty Python's Holy Grail:"

"The Dead Collector: Bring out yer dead. [a man puts a body on the cart]
Large Man with Dead Body: Here's one.
The Dead Collector: That'll be ninepence.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't (Rob): I'm not dead.
The Dead Collector: What?
Large Man with Dead Body: Nothing. There's your ninepence.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't: I'm not dead.
The Dead Collector: 'Ere, he says he's not dead.
Large Man with Dead Body: Yes he is.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't: I'm not.
The Dead Collector: He isn't.
Large Man with Dead Body: Well, he will be soon, he's very ill.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't: I'm getting better.
Large Man with Dead Body: No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment.
The Dead Collector: Well, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't: I don't want to go on the cart.
Large Man with Dead Body: Oh, don't be such a baby.
The Dead Collector: I can't take him.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't: I feel fine.
Large Man with Dead Body: Oh, do me a favor.
The Dead Collector: I can't.
Large Man with Dead Body: Well, can you hang around for a couple of minutes? He won't be long.
The Dead Collector: I promised I'd be at the Robinsons'. They've lost nine today.
Large Man with Dead Body: Well, when's your next round?
The Dead Collector: Thursday.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't: I think I'll go for a walk.
Large Man with Dead Body: You're not fooling anyone, you know. Isn't there anything you could do?
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't: I feel happy. I feel happy. [the Dead Collector glances up and down the street furtively, then silences the Body with his a whack of his club] (Rob has since banned all clubs in our home.)
Large Man with Dead Body: Ah, thank you very much.
The Dead Collector: Not at all. See you on Thursday.
Large Man with Dead Body: Right."

Surgery, again?

We met with Michael Collins (surgeon) tonight.

Unless he is convinced that surgery will add longevity to Rob's life or cure him, he will not do it. He feels as though there is no reason to put Rob through the surgery again.

When Dr. Collins performed surgery in January, he made sure that the margins were clean (the known cancer and its surrounding area was surgically removed).

He did give us some hope: he is not convinced that one of the spots is cancer - it could be some healing from the parietal lining that was removed in January. We like hearing good news.

The plan right now is to wait until the beginning of August for the X-ray and in September get a PET scan again. Hopefully, things won't have grown.

He suggested that we talk to Dr. Litton (oncologist) and see about the possibility of Tarceva (remember the post about the nasty rashes because of this targeted drug???). He thought that even though Rob's cancer did not show the markers needed to utilize this drug, ten percent of the time it will work.

Based on the kind of odds that Rob has shown during the last four years, he would have to be included in the ten percent. Doncha think?