breast-cancer-blog

Time flies

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 00:08:10 +0100

(Giving "The Machine" its due - a picture of the "Da Vinci" Robot - the same type that was used during the removal of my left kidney)

Time flies by, doesn’t it? I has been almost already a week ago, when I had my surgery done. Well, I’m still wearing might hospital gown. I love that thing, it’s extremely practical plus it just adds on perfectly to the whole image of a suffering patient. Hehehe, I know, I’m evil and sinister. We had actually some snow yesterday but it seems to melt away now. I had considered getting up and dressed to at least trying to shovel the walkway free, but a sneeze and the subsequent pain reminded me of the fact that my abdomen might not necessarily appreciate the idea of moving snow around. Secondly, I highly doubt that Ann would’ve let me out of the house. It’s hard for me to see her running around all over the place trying to keep up with errands, the girl’s schedules, the household and now even - since I’m incapacitated – the chores that I take care of under normal circumstances. After all, she is a cancer patient, too and it hurts me to see her exhausting herself every day over and over – while I sit on the couch like a schmuck. So yesterday I attempted to bring downstairs the light mattress I was using for one night when I came back from New York Presbyterian/Columbia University Hospital - and surely enough Ann yelled at me, and rightfully so. Well, here is my plan; she will leave the house in about 20 minutes from now and this is when I will seize my opportunity to at least vacuum the first floor and get the newspapers ready for tomorrow’s recycling pickup – but don’t tell her. :-) Speaking of newspapers: did you happen to read the New York Timesarticle in yesterday’s issue regarding the costs of chemotherapy in cases where the effect will only result in a few more months to keep a patient alive, yet, the associated costs are astronomical? This is actually an interesting question, a typical dilemma. On one hand I do agree with those who vehemently argue to no make such minimally effective therapies available, or more correctly stated, not make the insurance companies paying for it. On the other hand, I’m not sure how I would feel if such chemotherapy would be the only option to keep my wife alive for a few more months – I guess I would see the situation very differently.
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Pain

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 00:05:47 +0100

(Photo of my abdomen with the stitches after the surgery)

Last night I was in terrible pain for a about 30 minutes. But surprisingly, it wasn’t the abdomen that caused me such tremendous discomfort, but my right shoulder. I’ve been picking my brain since why on earth my shoulder and not my back, for instance. Because after all, most of time I’m sitting on my butt on rather cushiony stuff. That can get to your back after a while, but the shoulder? But I just received a call from my brother in law and he actually told me, that it might very well be from the surgery. And I think he’s right, because I recall the doctors explaining to me, that they were going to kind of “break me up in the middle”. That means that they would roll me over slightly onto my right side and then push me up from underneath my right hip. That would stretch my left abdomen which would make it easier to access the surgery area. So knowing that the actual surgery took a little over an hour, I therefore might have been positioned quite awkwardly and put some strain on my shoulder. Anyway, since the pain was really bad, I decided to take some left-overs; my what I call ‘wonder-pills’ I was prescribed with after I had my Cystoscopy done. I knew I could count on them and surely enough they wiped it away up until 2:00am this morning, when I decided to go downstairs pop another two of my little helpers. As a side effect, they kind of knock you out, or I should rather say ‘enable you to sleep satisfyingly well’. Other than that, I’m feeling better than yesterday.

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Recovering

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:47:32 +0100

(has been waiting patiently for me to returnn from the hospital: Puppy Troy)

Pretty much exactly 72 hours ago, the anesthesiologists brought me into the operating room for my surgery. Ann and I talked about that very moment yesterday. She had tears in her eyes when they came to get me. I remember that - as nervous as it was for me– I was so relieved that it was me having the procedure done and not her. For selfish reasons, because I wouldn’t have been able to deal with my worries if it had been Ann who had to go instead of me. In general, I feel a little bit better than yesterday, I’m just slightly nauseous this morning. I actually decided to sleep upstairs in our bed. It was great, I slept all the way through until 5:00am. That posture-pedic mattress in our master bedroom did cost a fortune, but is worth every single penny. I just noticed that they shaved off a 10x10 inches section on my left thigh – they must have done that after they had knocked me out prior to the surgery. I wonder what for, though. Through the largest incision, which is in fact not large at all, there is some yellowish-transparent liquid stuff coming out. Just a tiny bit, but it is continuously wet there. I spoke to a friend of mine who’s a school nurse and to my brother-in-law, an orthopedic-surgeon, both of whom confirmed that this is perfectly normal, as long as the surrounding skin doesn’t get red and/or shows other signs of an inflammation, like burning, for instance. Since last night, I’m wearing a hospital gown again. They are very practical for obvious reasons, yet, extremely comfy, too. Who knew! I might actually consider keep wearing it beyond my recovery period. I wonder what my folks in the office would think about that. Well, they are used to quite a lot by now. My wife once prepared lunch for me and had put it into a Victoria’s Secret bag. And I of course didn’t notice until I got to my office, after having walked across the parking lot, having passed the campus-security and spoken to a few people in the elevator and in the hallway – and all seemed to be particularly interested in my lunch that day, because they kept staring at my bag. Only when I arrived in my office and eventually had a closer look at it, I got to realize what was so mesmerizing about this ominous bag: it was held in pink and that by itself would probably explain a few of the looks I got from my fellow co-workers. But not only that – there was also a prominently placed logo stretching across either side, demanding: “Give me sexy!”

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The Surgery

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:47:55 +0100

We got up at 4:00am on Monday morning and got to New York Presbyterian-Columbia University by 5:30am. Everything went really smooth, administration-wise. Except for one thing; on one of the papers it said that I was in for a prostatectomy. I was in shock. But apparently that was just a misprint and I was assured that the foreseen procedure was indeed a radical robotic left nephrectomy. Anyway, I signed in and a few minutes later I was called up with a bunch of other patients to be admitted to the prep-area. I had to change into a gown and stockings. I hated the stockings but the gown actually felt quite comfy. The nurses drew blood and hooked me up on an IV. I also spoke to my three surgeons and the anesthesiologist. They explained to me that Dr. Badani will operate the robot while the other two surgeons will assist with things the robot can’t do.

And shortly before 7:30am, I was brought into the operating room. That was a scary setup in there. A lot of metal, wires and electronics and in the middle of all that, the operating table. I was told to lie down. Then they asked me the usual questions and to take three deep breaths….. and gone I was……

When I woke up later, I felt if I was hit by a truck. I was very drowsy and sleepy. The nurses had trouble with my last name, Peise. A short name, but apparently it causes some serious trouble to Americans regarding its pronunciation - even worse than my first name.

I tried to explain everything to the best I could but it was quite hard since my throat felt like it just had the pleasure of being treated with blender for five minutes. I hurt badly, because I got a tube inserted during the surgery.

I was able to see Ann for a little while. Then they transferred me to my room. The pain was bad and actually got worse when they disconnected the IV with the pain killer. Most of the pain was caused by the gas inside me. The doctors said that this was normal and probably will last for another few days until I will have my first bowel movements again. Ann stayed with me until 7:00pm. I tried to sleep but the pain prevented me from doing that. What I didn’t understand: I had to ask for pain killers every single time as opposed to just being provided with them automatically on a set schedule. I mean that was just shortly after having had major surgery and they make you ask for pain killers? I don’t blame my nurses, in fact, they were fabulous – Thanks a bunch, Ebby and Fely!

Anyway, the night went by slowly and Ann came back early Tuesday morning. A bunch of doctors stopped by and confirmed that I was on a good way to recover quickly. Therefore, I was likely to be discharged the same day. I was happy to hear that. The most trouble I had was with the bed. It was a high tech thing that every time I made an adjustment to the angle or height, the mattress re-adjusted itself automatically. The nurse explained to me that this what they call an ‘intelligent” mattress. Once the patient makes and adjustment to it, it does some fine tuning by itself to prevent the patient form getting bed sores. Well, that might be quite intelligent and advanced regarding technology; to me it was just brutally annoying because I wasn’t able to get comfortable.

I was supposed to do breathing exercises with the help of a small plastic apparatus they provided me with. But I couldn’t since I was too weak. Shortly before noon, I was asked to get up. The nurse said that she will remove the catheter first. I really dreaded that, but it was actually okay. Then I slowly moved up and set on the side of my bed. I thought I was going to pass out any second. I had cold sweat all over me. But the nausea subsided after a few minutes and I was okay to get up with the help of the nurse and Ann. From that moment on, things got better. An hour later I started walking around, a little bend over with my upper body, because of the pain, but at least I was able to move. I also ate a little bit. The doctors then told me, that as to whether or not they will be able to send me home, only depends on if I was going to be able to urinate all by myself. Luckily, I was. An hour later I peed a small amount. Another hour later I was provided with my discharging papers.

The ride back home was really tough on me. I never realized before that the George Washington Bridge and Route 4 had so many bumps and holes. I got shook up badly and that was certainly detrimental to my sores and nausea. Back home I actually regretted that I wasn’t in the hospital anymore. The drowsiness and nausea was almost unbearable. But it slowly got better. My mom in law had prepared the pull out sofa in our living room. First, I didn’t like that idea, however, for practical reasons and since we don’t have an upstairs bathroom, it turned out to come in handy.

This morning I felt much better already. I was able to pass gas which was a great relief. I actually also had bowel movements – sorry to be that graphic, but as a matter of fact, this is another important step on the way to recovery.

I just had my first shower; that felt really good, washing off all that bloody-crusty stuff all over my abdomen. I was actually a little scared since I thought the scars might burn upon contact with the water. But it turned out to be okay. In have six incisions in total. Most of them are really small. The biggest one is right above my belly button which is 2 inches at the most. That’s the one where the doctor pulled out my kidney trough. Which is quite amazing. Before laparoscopic surgery techniques became state of the art, they used to cut you all the way open for this kind of procedure which left you with a huge scar afterwards. Let alone the significantly longer recovery time.

Okay, so that’s it. The surgery is past me. And I’m glad for that.

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Blood

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:48:18 +0100

Since last night I’ve been passing blood with my urine again. All I did was a little bit of super light clean up around the house during the day. But I felt the aggravation immediately inside my left abdominal area. Today it’s even worse. It’s not painful, just annoying and kind of scary. Now I also understand why my first doctor asked me several times if I wanted to have the stent removed. I can see how the discomfort could potentially turn into pain at some point. Coincidentally, I received the bill for the Ureteroscopy yesterday. Amazing! Good thing that my Health Care Insurance Provider takes over most of it, leaving me with a small co-pay only. I can only imagine the price tag of my upcoming surgery. My insurance, though informed me already that I will be only charged a co-pay of $ 500,-- in total, which sound like a bargain to me.

In less than 48 hours from now, I should be through with my surgery and left with one kidney only. I just hope that Dr. Badani get’s all the cancer out with the first shot. As you know, they had to take in my wife two more times after her initial operation, to eventually get clear margins. Right now, I’m not too nervous. We will be having dinner later down in Fair Lawn at Rose’s, a Lebanese restaurant. My father-in-law’s parents came over from Lebanon in the twenties. Their food and eating habits prevailed and after some hesitation in the beginning, I now love traditionally prepared taboule, falafel, etc.

Tomorrow I’ll try take it easy. Or maybe not really, actually, since my niece Hannah is coming over, which means that Uncle Dieter better be prepared to run up and down the staircase five million times within two hours. I’m happy that she’s coming over because it will distract me from focusing too much on Monday. I also need to give myself an enema. Well, I have a little bit of practice in that procedure by now. My wife and I started a while ago since it is supposed to be a great way in helping your body getting rid of toxics lingering in your liver. But after a couple of times, we kind of forgot about it. It’s easy to forget about things you don’t like, isn’t it?

Okay, before I let you go; my step-daughter Jenny put together a fake video commercial for a school project. It's hilarious, check it out: Jenny's Commercial.

Jenny....you ROCK!

Hope you’re having a great weekend.

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Happy Thanksgiving

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:48:48 +0100

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody! What can I say: the sun is shining again today. Not literally, but you know what I mean. I got a call from the hospital yesterday, briefing me on the logistics for my upcoming surgery on Monday next week. We got to get there by 5:30am. This makes me believe that they must get to operate on me quite early. That’s great! The only problem: I had hoped to get in touch with my surgeon before the surgery, because I wanted to double check with him that he’s going to take the stent out, too, during the procedure. Anyway, maybe I will get to see him Monday morning before they knock me out. Otherwise, I will tell one of the nurses.
Some of you sent me emails, asking me about my name and why I use an alias here on the Internet. It’s simply because of my paranoia. I’m afraid that someone might steal my/our identity and we all know how bad that can get. However, of course, if someone really wants to find out, it would probably take him less than 3 seconds to get there.
The second reason is the incompatibility of my German name with the American language. Picture this scenario: I’m on the phone with someone who wants to know my name. I truthfully tell them my real first name, DIETER.
And then it starts:
“What is that? PETER?”
“No, it’s DIETER like ‘dieter’, as in 'DIET'.”
“Diet? Are you on a diet?”
“No, my name is Dieter which spells exactly like ‘dieter’, a person who is on a diet.”
“So it’s not Peter, but like Peter, only with a ‘D’, right?”
“No, not quite. It’s exactly like ……”

I guess you get the point, right? Imagine me in a restaurant and they ask me for a name to call you up once your table is ready. And then going through the whole name-thing? Nahh, Tony is straight forward and easy. Much better. I could tell you now a million more stories about the confusion my real last name did cause to my poor American fellows, but I’d rather spare you the ‘gory’ details. ;-)

Happy Thanksgiving and God bless you all!

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Today

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:49:14 +0100

Today is one of these days. Everything is grey. The sky, the bank-account, the remaining credit-card limit and the even the cancer. I’m not trying to be a ‘pity-me’ cry-baby, but I just woke up that way. There’s this little sting in my chest and right thigh. It’s probably nothing, but in the overbearing grand scheme of cancer, you can’t help but to think that this must be little metastases forming up. Of course, I know it’s irrational, but on a day like today, I would even refuse to accept if someone would give it to me in written, that my wife and I will be okay.
It’s just brutal – we both got cancer. I could live with my kidney-cancer, and I’m not just saying that. I would be fine with it. But the two of us and what that did to us as a family can really want to make you jump off a cliff at times. It’s insane when you think about it. My family would be better off financially with me being dead. That’s just a matter of fact and probably this is true for many other families, with or without cancer, if there’s life insurance. The United States are my home. I keep telling people who curiously inquire about my life in Germany and me being German that I never in the entire 33 years of living in Germany felt as much at home, as I do now and here in the States. Certainly, that must be in large part attributed to the fact that I met my beautiful wife and two step-daughters here, but even independently from that, I am positive it would still be the same. However, it there’s one thing that makes me want to go back every now and then, it would be the Health Care System. It is utterly scaring here and no comparison to Germany or the most part of Europe, for that matter. And I’m not even sure if the medical care is actually better there, but at least you don’t have to worry about money and getting the care you need. It is being paid. And why is that? Because it’s ‘Socialized Health Care’. Money is being taken out of everybody’s pay-check every month. If you get sick, the insurance pays for you bills. If you don’t need it, the insurance will use your money and pay for somebody else’s bills. Very simple and proven to be effective. Would that work in the United States? I am not sure. A much bigger country, more people, different infrastructure and of course, a different mind set.
Anyway, this is where Sue comes in: she mastered the “let go” concept. Read her comments on my blog postings and head over to her website and read her journal. This is the way to go. Just let go and leave it up to God. If I manage to internalize that model, I will be fine. I know that. But on days like this, it just seems to be an impossible endeavor.

The good thing is, there is always a tomorrow.

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Supplements

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:49:58 +0100

Okay, I wanted to do this for a while now. Attached is a snippet of my wife’s list of supplements she takes everyday. I think it’s a total of 60 pills, quite a load to swallow. The explanation of each supplement is my own one and might deviate from the manufacturers’. Please note: it is absolutely necessary that you work with a Health Care Professional if you decide to take supplements. He will be able to work out a plan for your individual situation. This is not something you shouldn’t take lightly. You need the advice of a professional in order to use supplements safely and effectively.

Alamax CR: This supplement contains alpha-lipoic acid and is supposed to help with cell creation and maintaining the existing cells in good health. CR stands for ‘controlled release’. It is designed to target and neutralize free radicals the moment their formation, before they can attack the healthy cells.

B17: This is a complicated one and I advise you to check out Wikipedia’s description for more information. It is also commonly referred to as Amygdalin or Laetrile or Vitamin B17. Its effect and role in the treatment of breast cancer – or actually, any kind of cancer for that matter - has been largely controversially discussed over the past decades. The American Cancer Society once officially called it a quackery product. Other scientists are fond supporters and convinced by its efficacy in the treatment of cancers.

BrocColinate: A Broccoli Seed Extract. Broccoli is known for its anti-oxidants and detoxifiers. This is in a highly concentrated form.

Chlorella: Chlorella is being used for detoxification.

CoQ10: The Co-Enzyme 10 is being used in alternative cancer treatment protocols for both, fighting cancer and relief from conventional cancer treatment side effects.

Vitamin D3: The human body can produce Vitamin D from exposure to sunlight. Vitamin D plays a quite significant role in alternative cancer treatment and prevention. The Internet holds an abundance of information regarding the role of Vitamin D in cancer treatment. Here’s a link to a reputable and informative resource.

Fish Oil: Known for being very potent in Omega 3 fatty acids, which are being associated with a reduced risk of developing breast-cancer.

Iodoral: Iodine is one of the essential elements and Iodoral is Iodine in high potency. It is supposed to support the hormone production of the thyroid gland.

Maitake D extract: According to the American Cancer Society, promoters claim that this mushroom extract boosts the immune system, and limits the growth of tumors or even reverses them. Supposedly it also enhances the benefits of some chemotherapies and furthermore, helps chemotherapy patients dealing with side effects like nausea, pain and hair loss.

Milk Thistle: Supports the liver in its job in getting rid of toxics.

Multi Thera 1: Contains highly concentrated amounts of vitamins, antioxidants, minerals and natural carotenoids.

Oncomar: Also known as Avemar. The supposed effect of this medical nutriment is to sustain mechanisms of regulation central to maintaining the health of cells and the immune system.

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Misperception

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:50:20 +0100

A few weeks ago I was contacted by a student of Columbia University's Graduate School of Journalism. He came across my websites and blogs - this one here and my other one dedicated to my wife’s breast cancer. He’s writing a long piece for his master's project - kind of a long essay, a la the New Yorker - on the way that the online world has transformed the way we deal with death and disease, with particular interested in blogs and bloggers who take on this challenge. I agreed to help him and we yesterday met for our first interview. Poor guy, had to listen to my incoherent babbling. I was surprised by the level of detail he wanted to know from me. As he asked me the questions, I became to realize how much work and time I had put into my two websites lately. And how frustrating it can be at times, especially struggling with technical stuff. On the other hand, it is rewarding in a way. It’s like getting another thing accomplished. And, of course, let alone the fact that I was able to meet you guys through the process and get your feedback and advice.

I will be going on short term disability starting next week. Six weeks without my office, I’m curious to see how I’m going to handle that. Like many others who leave their job for more than just a few days, I drive myself nuts over the two million things that are supposedly sooo important and need to get done before my grand departure. And like everybody else, I will probably come back just to realize that the company still did very well without me and some folks won’t have even realized that I was gone. A sobering experience. Plus with the blessings of modern technology including laptops with wireless access, I will be able to satisfy my illusion – which of course is nothing else but just a misperception of myself– of being invaluable by checking my email every five minutes. My wife already told me, by the second I will return from the hospital I will be booting-up my laptop. She’s probably right. And when you think about it, that’s just equally stupid and sad at the same time, isn’t it?

When I come back from surgery, I want to start an experiment. I have been thinking about that for quite a while now. I always wanted to look into meditation, but never got around to do it. Or more truthfully speaking, always found an excuse not to. But I do have a kind of craving and desire inside me, that eagerly seeks to find a way of making time for myself. Quality time, not sitting in front of the computer or stuff like that. Just relaxing and getting my head straight. Praying does have that effect on me to some extent, but I think there are ways to intensify the whole experience. Well, I guess I will have ample time to look into that between when I come back from surgery and before I (officially) go back to work.

And one more thing to Sue’s comment on my previous posting. Yes, I couldn’t agree more. My wife’s breast cancer and my kidney-cancer have been a real eye-opener in many different ways. And I have a feeling, that there is still much more to come for me, things that I ‘m going to learn about myself and my relationship to others as I will continue to travel on in my cancer journey. Comments

Learning to let go

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:51:06 +0100

I think I’m slowly emerging from the down I was going through for the past few days. Sue being a constant reminder of the positive and Gods grace, me learning to accept the fact that there are things beyond my control, plus a few little cheer-ups of all sorts and kinds - for instance, look at the picture atop of this post: that’s my nice Hannah, she can light up a room instantaneously - yes, I think I’m slowly getting back on track.

One of the most profoundly import things in life, is to learn how to let go. And that ties back to the ability of accepting that there are things I have no or only limited influence on. Once this is achieved, the inner peace comes back alongside with solid confidence.

Of course, there are several approaches to succeed in doing so. To me, it’s a combination of rational decision making along with the realization: okay, I do have to let go of this one, there is nothing I can do about it. The other equally, or even more important part, is to leave it up to a higher power. Which ultimately manifests in faith. Confidence is built and thrives on faith. Intellectually, I always understood this concept, yet, I was incapable of internalizing it. And again, this is obviously a learning process. The key is to be open and stay committed throughout the learning period. This is something I need to remind myself on.

Cancer is expensive, even if you’re fortunate enough to have a good insurance plan. And having two cancer patients in the family, ultimately imparts financial strain. We are now at a point where we are in jeopardy of not being able to keep up with our mortgage payments anymore. Our medical costs have swallowed up all our resources and credit cards. Since six months we are trying to get a home loan modification. But of course, there are obviously thousands of families who try the exact same. I don’t even blame the banks, it’s just very frustrating. And I think that frustration really took over everything (again!).

But I slowly start to see the situation from a different angle. If we lose the house, then we lose the house. Would that be bad? Yes, absolutely. But is that the worst that could happen to us? No, of course not. So what?! Secondly: do I know for a fact that our request will come back unapproved? No, I don’t - there is still hope. So what do I worry about?

For my own peace of mind, I decided to let go. We did and will continue to do everything that we can, to work with the bank in order to improve our situation. But if a solution can’t be found, well, then so be it. We will still be together as a family and then we just have to start over again.

I know that God brought me to my family for a reason. It’s simply too odd that both my wife and I got cancer (actually, we most likely had our cancers already before we met). We were both unhappy with our individual situation back then, found each other under less than normal circumstances and the fact that I was able to move myself and my job from Europe across the Atlantic Ocean to the USA, cannot be solely just attributed to the concept of “of things just happen randomly.” I am here for a reason. I know that for a fact and without being overly romantic.

In less than two weeks, my surgery will be past me.

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