December 2015

Terri had 6  months of Gemcitabine IV chemo after her initial surgery in January 2014. Chemo ended mid September and in the first week of  October, she road the Seagull Century ride. She completed 69 miles of a 100 mile ride from Salisbury University in  Maryland to Assateague Island and back. Truly incredible accomplishment. This drive has been the force behind her defiance of this diagnosis.

She underwent a colostomy reversal in December of 2014. Dr. P did that surgery as well.  We love Dr. P and his staff, they are remarkable people and have genuinely cared for Terri’s well – being.

After a period of recuperation, Terri appeared to be doing very well.  Little by little the tumor markers began to rise. 30-40 points at a time.  The Oncologist would tell Terri not to worry because the scans were not showing any evidence of disease. Terri felt well and we  were enjoying our lives. In June Terri, a group of friends and myself, decided to do the Great Allegheny Passage and Tow Path again. A ride from the Point in Pittsburgh to Washington D.C.  The ride is approximately 335 miles:

 

We appeared to be getting our lives back; camping, biking, golfing,  and enjoying family  and friends.

It was mid December 2015 and Terri had her regular check up with her oncologist.  I remember we waited for over two hours to see him.  When he walked in the room, Terri asked for the results of the PET Scan. He asked how she was feeling.  Then he said she had a re- occurrence. The PET Scan lit up on her scar.  Our hearts dropped simultaneously. He began to talk about Terri having to have chemo for the rest of her life. Microscopic cells. Staying ahead of the cancer. He just kept repeating, “Chemo the rest of your life,” regardless of what scenario we presented. He said she would be back on chemo , after the holidays. The Chemo regime would consist of two; gemcitabine and abraxane. This was the standard for re-occurrence of pancreatic cancer  Our heads were spinning. I couldn’t quite comprehend the conversation. I remember, after the doctor left the room, Terri and I crying and Terri saying, “this sounds bad.” So much appeared to be left up in the air, unsettled. Unanswered. For days we walked around in a fog.

I am writing this story from my perspective. The perspective of a woman who is experiencing the love of her life, battling pancreatic cancer.  Terri and I discussed blogging this Journey for quite a while. There are ground rules in place; no naming or pictures of family and friends. People we mention in the Blog are people we have met along the way and we ask their permission, prior to posting. Terri approves what I post, but she will not read the posts that tell of the other Journey. The story that brought us to this Journey.  I appreciate her trust. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be her but I do aspire to be like her.  I truly admire the woman she is;  the courage she possesses  and the determination, faith and defiance that drives her.

A few days after that doctor’s visit, I was out doing some last minute Christmas shopping when I called home to check on Terri. Her voice was cracking, faint and emotionless. I asked what was wrong. She preceded to tell me she just got off the phone with the Physician Assistant at the Oncologist office. Terri said she called the PA to ask what exactly the doctor meant. The PA told Terri, statistically she had 6 months to a year to live.  I rushed home. We sat in silence for quite some time, holding one and other. Those words eclipsed everything; our hopes to grow old together, Terri’s dreams of experiencing the birth and lives of future grandchildren, our retirement, everything we were planning to do. We planned to grow old and be the Christmas tree ornaments I bought the year prior:

As you can guess, I am the one with the flotation ring and Terri says she is the one  who has to carry everything.  This was going to be us 30 years from now…..

We walked around in a bad dream state for weeks, barely sleeping. Running over the conversations again and again- looking for one word, one syllable,  to hang some hope. Terri talked about not even doing the chemo if she was only going to live for 6 months. I felt we hadn’t tried everything. We hadn’t looked elsewhere;  sought a second opinion.  We questioned why was the tumor on her scar? The re-occurrence appeared , not on an organ, but on her abdominal wall.  We should look elsewhere for answers. When Terri started chemo, we asked the doctor about seeking second opinions. His response; “You can get as many opinions as you like. We asked if he would work with someone else. His response, “I will not work with anyone else, if you do not trust me, then you need to find someone else. ” Our response- we found someone else…..