Hi All:
Sorry it's been a while since I've checked in. Here's the latest . . .
The Fundraiser was a huge success. THANK YOU to everyone who attended, bought raffle tickets, bid on silent auction items and spent the day mingling with our family and friends and listening to some of Milwaukee's best bands. Thank You also to all the musicians and production staff for donating their time and talents to pull-off such a fantastic show. And the biggest Thank You of all to Kevin, Chris, and the boys for initiating the event and seeing it through to a very successful completion. We are impressed and humbled and flattered and honored and all kinds of other adjectives! THANK YOU!!
While everyone was contributing to The Cause, Jeff and I were in the hospital (and still are) fighting the good fight. Jeff's fared very well during this Fourth Cycle and has, again, escaped a lot of the most severe side effects. He even managed to open his eyes for bits and pieces of some Sweet 16 basketball games. Otherwise, he has mostly slept, but he has managed to talk on the phone a couple of times and hasn't been as forgetful as he has been during prior cycles. For example, he remembered that he still hadn't heard Kevin's radio interview and asked me to play it for him. He also gave my brother a recipe for maple syrup from memory--so he's doing very well!
I can't say as much for his blood counts. His white blood counts had dropped to .5 (they are supposed to be up around 10,000. Point 5 is more like 500--so his white count is WAY low). It is so low, that the nurses want him to wear a surgical mask when he leaves his hospital room (Sexy!) and they have placed a warning on his door urging visitors to stay away if they have a cold, have had recent immunizations, or are in possession of raw meat or fresh produce, etc. So, please know that if you have sent Jeff a little pick-me-up of ground chuck or pork ribs, your delivery will be rejected at the nurse's station.
His red blood counts are also low (9.2 for all the nurses out there who know what that means!). So, he is back on his regimen of weekly Procrit shots to correct his anemia. But, he looks good (as always!) and hasn't lost a lot of weight during this cycle. Hopefully he'll be able to maintain his appetite and stamina next week and won't have so much nausea. We haven't seen Dr. Legha yet today, but we're assuming he will let Jeff go home tomorrow or Thursday.
Finally, I want to welcome my brother John and his wife Anni, and my sweet baby niece, Ella, to Milwaukee! They traveled all the way from Kansas City to help care for the kids this week. Sounds like they are having a lot of fun. I am so glad to have them there and can't wait to see them when we change shifts at the end of the week.
Until then, please continue to pray that Jeff's treatments are working and for his peace of mind and smooth recovery. It really does help so much.
Kelly
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
Brain Scans and Fundraisers!
Hi All:
Kelly here. It's been a while since I've posted--Jeff has been so diligent in updating everyone I haven't had to commandeer the blog. However, I'm happy to report that Jeff is once again incapacitated by the biochemo that started last night.
Jeff had a brain MRI yesterday which worried him considerably. Although he had no reason to believe the disease had invaded his brain and all the objective evidence seemed to indicate the contrary, he feels like he must perpetually brace himself for awful news. Fortunately, it did not come yesterday and the brain scan was "clean"--meaning there is presently no evidence of disease in his brain. When he received this news his mood immediately lightened and he was visibly relieved.
However, that relief was short-lived after Doctor Legha mentioned that he was hoping Jeff's subcutaneous nodules would have receded more noticeably by this point. Dr. Legha said that he will do more scans after this (Fourth) cycle of biochemo to see if he can "justify going forward with additional cycles." As he explained, it is possible for patients to show a quick response to biochemo (as Jeff apparently did after the first two cycles) only to "plateau" and show no further response to additional treatments. He said that although he would have liked to see a more marked reduction in the size of Jeff's subcutaneous nodules at this point, he is primarily concerned with the liver lesion and as long as it continues to shrink, more treatment will be justified.
Jeff was very disturbed and discouraged by the doctor's hint of concern and it bothered him into the night when the biochemo started. Therefore, Jeff asks for your continued prayers that the treatments work to their maximum potential and that any remaining tumors continue to shrink substantially. Jeff dreads the thought of what will come next if the biochemo does not render him disease-free. He does not want to have to continue to live far away from his family and he does not like the prospect of undergoing additional treatments that are so physically and emotionally hard to tolerate.
I guess I don't look at biochemo as an all-or-nothing proposition. Even if Jeff only makes it through four treatment cycles (instead of six), and even if the tumors are no longer responding as well as the doctor would like, we DO know that after two cycles Jeff had a substantial reduction in the size and number of his lesions which means that he is now better-off than he was in January when we discovered the cancer had returned. He knows for a fact that after two treatment cycles he had at least beaten it back a bit and who knows how much extra time that will give him to find alternative treatment options that may give him an even better chance of beating it into submission for good?
However, at this point, all of this is pure speculation. We won't actually know how well the biochemo is or is not working until the next round of scans. Until then, Cycle Four gives Jeff one more time "at bat" and he needs to focus on knocking it out of the park instead of being afraid to swing because there's a possibility he might miss.
So, before I move on to the next topic: pray, pray, pray both for Jeff's peace of mind and that the treatments are working.
Now, onto happier news: the BIG FUNDRAISER is this Sunday, March 25th at the CoachHouse Grill in Big Bend. It's not as far out of town as it seems and it's right off the interstate, so it's an easy drive. I continue to be utterly amazed at how much the band has done to pull this together and at the incredible response they have received so far. So, I hope for their sake that they have a great turn-out. They have really gone above and beyond the call of duty to put together a very professional event. Plus, the entertainment is first-class. I wish I was going to be there to see it. I'll still be here in Houston in the hospital with Jeff, but I trust our family and friends will represent us well! So, I hope you'll honor us by making your way out to the event this weekend. Bring your kids and your friends and your kids' friends and your friends' kids and make a day of it.
In the meantime, I want to wish Aubrey good luck tonight at her big debut in her first high school play (yes, HIGH school!). She is in Wauwatosa East's production of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" which starts its run tonight. I also want to thank our dear friend Barbara Hayes-Dineen for helping with the kids earlier this week and for making sure Aubrey makes it to and from play practice (and that she gets fed somewhere along the way). I really can't thank you enough.
And, finally, thank you to all of you who continue to read this blog and leave posts and send Jeff mail. Knowing that you are all pulling for him has made this burden much easier for him to bear and continues to encourage him when he is down. We appreciate all of it more than you will ever know.
Kelly
Kelly here. It's been a while since I've posted--Jeff has been so diligent in updating everyone I haven't had to commandeer the blog. However, I'm happy to report that Jeff is once again incapacitated by the biochemo that started last night.
Jeff had a brain MRI yesterday which worried him considerably. Although he had no reason to believe the disease had invaded his brain and all the objective evidence seemed to indicate the contrary, he feels like he must perpetually brace himself for awful news. Fortunately, it did not come yesterday and the brain scan was "clean"--meaning there is presently no evidence of disease in his brain. When he received this news his mood immediately lightened and he was visibly relieved.
However, that relief was short-lived after Doctor Legha mentioned that he was hoping Jeff's subcutaneous nodules would have receded more noticeably by this point. Dr. Legha said that he will do more scans after this (Fourth) cycle of biochemo to see if he can "justify going forward with additional cycles." As he explained, it is possible for patients to show a quick response to biochemo (as Jeff apparently did after the first two cycles) only to "plateau" and show no further response to additional treatments. He said that although he would have liked to see a more marked reduction in the size of Jeff's subcutaneous nodules at this point, he is primarily concerned with the liver lesion and as long as it continues to shrink, more treatment will be justified.
Jeff was very disturbed and discouraged by the doctor's hint of concern and it bothered him into the night when the biochemo started. Therefore, Jeff asks for your continued prayers that the treatments work to their maximum potential and that any remaining tumors continue to shrink substantially. Jeff dreads the thought of what will come next if the biochemo does not render him disease-free. He does not want to have to continue to live far away from his family and he does not like the prospect of undergoing additional treatments that are so physically and emotionally hard to tolerate.
I guess I don't look at biochemo as an all-or-nothing proposition. Even if Jeff only makes it through four treatment cycles (instead of six), and even if the tumors are no longer responding as well as the doctor would like, we DO know that after two cycles Jeff had a substantial reduction in the size and number of his lesions which means that he is now better-off than he was in January when we discovered the cancer had returned. He knows for a fact that after two treatment cycles he had at least beaten it back a bit and who knows how much extra time that will give him to find alternative treatment options that may give him an even better chance of beating it into submission for good?
However, at this point, all of this is pure speculation. We won't actually know how well the biochemo is or is not working until the next round of scans. Until then, Cycle Four gives Jeff one more time "at bat" and he needs to focus on knocking it out of the park instead of being afraid to swing because there's a possibility he might miss.
So, before I move on to the next topic: pray, pray, pray both for Jeff's peace of mind and that the treatments are working.
Now, onto happier news: the BIG FUNDRAISER is this Sunday, March 25th at the CoachHouse Grill in Big Bend. It's not as far out of town as it seems and it's right off the interstate, so it's an easy drive. I continue to be utterly amazed at how much the band has done to pull this together and at the incredible response they have received so far. So, I hope for their sake that they have a great turn-out. They have really gone above and beyond the call of duty to put together a very professional event. Plus, the entertainment is first-class. I wish I was going to be there to see it. I'll still be here in Houston in the hospital with Jeff, but I trust our family and friends will represent us well! So, I hope you'll honor us by making your way out to the event this weekend. Bring your kids and your friends and your kids' friends and your friends' kids and make a day of it.
In the meantime, I want to wish Aubrey good luck tonight at her big debut in her first high school play (yes, HIGH school!). She is in Wauwatosa East's production of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" which starts its run tonight. I also want to thank our dear friend Barbara Hayes-Dineen for helping with the kids earlier this week and for making sure Aubrey makes it to and from play practice (and that she gets fed somewhere along the way). I really can't thank you enough.
And, finally, thank you to all of you who continue to read this blog and leave posts and send Jeff mail. Knowing that you are all pulling for him has made this burden much easier for him to bear and continues to encourage him when he is down. We appreciate all of it more than you will ever know.
Kelly
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Here we go again
Hi all . . . Jeff here. Tomorrow (Thursday) is the day I'm scheduled to begin Round 4 of biochemo. I'm also scheduled to have an MRI brain scan tomorrow morning to make sure the cancer still hasn't spread to my brain. I have no objective reason to believe it has but the test--like every test I have to take--still makes me nervous. I think I'm a little nervous about beginning treatment too; now I know what to expect, and I know to expect that it won't be fun. Needless to say, I'm having a hard time thinking about much of anything except cancer. The good news is that my sister, Michelle, and her fiance, Jeff, are in town. They're a lot of fun and doing a good job of entertaining me. We're also going over to my college roommate's (Kevin Gardner) for dinner tonight, and Kevin is always good for many laughs. Best of all, Kelly is here; having her here always makes me feel good. Once again, I'm thankful that I don't have to go through this alone.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Good things in Houston
Hi all . . . Jeff here. First of, let me just say that I wish I wasn't in Houston. The thing that's keeping me here is the same thing that has thrown so many lives into total upheaval. My mom could be at home helping to plan my sister's wedding instead of doing my laundry and driving me to get blood tests; my neighbors and friends could be relaxing with their families instead of shoveling my driveway and making dinners for us; my kids would have a mom and dad at home with them instead of far away for too long. It really sucks that I have to be in Houston.
BUT . . . having said that, I also have to say that this whole experience has given me many opportunities that I wouldn't have had otherwise. I had the opportunity to spend the weekend with Marc Schulte, a very good friend (and one of Aubrey's godfathers) who came to visit me in Houston from his home in Seattle. I have had the opportunity to reconnect with Kevin Gardner, one of my college roommates, and get to see what his life is like (and get to play with his very cute toddler son). I had the opportunity to eat lunch at PubFiction, a very hip and happening place owned by Jim Crable, one of my high school classmates. And I've had the opportunity to personally thank my old babysitter, Betty (Hanigan) and her husband, Stefano Costantini, for recommending Dr. Legha and helping us find the wonderful apartment where we are staying.
Being here, I also have met some amazing people, including Cathy Connors, the tireless and very generous president of the ND Club of Houston (and recently elected director of the national board of the Notre Dame Alumni Association!), and Jerry and Margaret Toomey, who have welcomed me, Kelly, my kids, and my mom into their car, their home, and their lives. We had a wonderful meal at Jerry and Margaret's last night, and it gave me a chance to feel like life was back to normal for a few hours instead of preoccupied by blood counts and biochemo side-effects. My mom said when she sees Jerry and Margaret at the airport, it's like she's seeing family. And for giving us that experience in this big city so far from home, I can't thank them enough.
So even though I wish I wasn't here and hate the reason for being here, life is still good in so many ways.
BUT . . . having said that, I also have to say that this whole experience has given me many opportunities that I wouldn't have had otherwise. I had the opportunity to spend the weekend with Marc Schulte, a very good friend (and one of Aubrey's godfathers) who came to visit me in Houston from his home in Seattle. I have had the opportunity to reconnect with Kevin Gardner, one of my college roommates, and get to see what his life is like (and get to play with his very cute toddler son). I had the opportunity to eat lunch at PubFiction, a very hip and happening place owned by Jim Crable, one of my high school classmates. And I've had the opportunity to personally thank my old babysitter, Betty (Hanigan) and her husband, Stefano Costantini, for recommending Dr. Legha and helping us find the wonderful apartment where we are staying.
Being here, I also have met some amazing people, including Cathy Connors, the tireless and very generous president of the ND Club of Houston (and recently elected director of the national board of the Notre Dame Alumni Association!), and Jerry and Margaret Toomey, who have welcomed me, Kelly, my kids, and my mom into their car, their home, and their lives. We had a wonderful meal at Jerry and Margaret's last night, and it gave me a chance to feel like life was back to normal for a few hours instead of preoccupied by blood counts and biochemo side-effects. My mom said when she sees Jerry and Margaret at the airport, it's like she's seeing family. And for giving us that experience in this big city so far from home, I can't thank them enough.
So even though I wish I wasn't here and hate the reason for being here, life is still good in so many ways.
Friday, March 16, 2007
A Day in the Life
Hi all! Jeff here . . . I thought some of you might be interested in what I do every day while I'm down here in Houston. It's nothing exciting, but here's the routine:
Wake up around 7:30 or 8:00 a.m. Take a compazine and benadryl (my antinausea medications). Yes, your basic OTC Benadryl is one of my medications. It counteracts the side-effects of the compazine.
Start eating breakfast around 8:30. I have to wait a half hour for the antinausea meds to kick in before I can start eating. I usually have a couple glasses of juice, a banana, and my waffles. : )
During the morning I usually take a nap and maybe a shower. Showering is kind of a pain because I have to tape a large sheet of Saran Wrap over the Graschong catheter in my chest (that's the tubes that deliver the biochemo drugs). Yes, we literally tape a piece of Saran Wrap to my chest. It's a bit awkward and is why I don't shower every day. Well, that and the fact that I do nothing and so don't really get dirty.
I eat lunch around noon. I have been eating egg-and-bean burritos for lunch. They're filling and full of protein, so I figure they have to be good for me.
During the afternoon, we might head over to the computer lab, go to the grocery store, read the newspaper, or take another nap. I spend a lot of time laying on the couch during the day. That's the most comfortable position to be in.
At 4:00, we watch Take Home Chef on TLC. It's the one show that has become a must-watch (well, actually, the second show; we also watch American Idol religiously). If you've never seen Take Home Chef, it's worth a try. The chef is funny and he makes food that I would actually like to eat. Plus it's quite entertaining watching the women on the show fall all over themselves when the chef comes around.
I take another compazine and benadryl around 6:00 pm in preparation for dinner, then we eat about a half hour later. Right now, I'm able to eat almost anything I want so that's been nice. Tonight I think we'll have a four-bean chili.
At 7:00 pm we try to find something to watch on TV for the evening. Unfortunately, this is usually more difficult than it sounds. There just aren't that many great shows on TV. If we're lucky, we'll find a decent movie to watch. Otherwise, it's a lot of channel surfing until 9:00. Then we might watch King of Queens. I usually talk to the kids at this time of day, too. They'll call me or I'll call them and we'll talk about what's going on in their worlds. Jack always asks to do a "family quiz", which means I ask him a question like "who is your dad's mom?" and he has to tell me the name of the person. He's getting pretty good at it.
Bedtime usually comes at around 9:30. Then it's off to dreamland till the next day comes.
Like I said, it's nothing exciting but that gives you some indication of how I spend my days down here . . . and why I can't wait to get home!
Wake up around 7:30 or 8:00 a.m. Take a compazine and benadryl (my antinausea medications). Yes, your basic OTC Benadryl is one of my medications. It counteracts the side-effects of the compazine.
Start eating breakfast around 8:30. I have to wait a half hour for the antinausea meds to kick in before I can start eating. I usually have a couple glasses of juice, a banana, and my waffles. : )
During the morning I usually take a nap and maybe a shower. Showering is kind of a pain because I have to tape a large sheet of Saran Wrap over the Graschong catheter in my chest (that's the tubes that deliver the biochemo drugs). Yes, we literally tape a piece of Saran Wrap to my chest. It's a bit awkward and is why I don't shower every day. Well, that and the fact that I do nothing and so don't really get dirty.
I eat lunch around noon. I have been eating egg-and-bean burritos for lunch. They're filling and full of protein, so I figure they have to be good for me.
During the afternoon, we might head over to the computer lab, go to the grocery store, read the newspaper, or take another nap. I spend a lot of time laying on the couch during the day. That's the most comfortable position to be in.
At 4:00, we watch Take Home Chef on TLC. It's the one show that has become a must-watch (well, actually, the second show; we also watch American Idol religiously). If you've never seen Take Home Chef, it's worth a try. The chef is funny and he makes food that I would actually like to eat. Plus it's quite entertaining watching the women on the show fall all over themselves when the chef comes around.
I take another compazine and benadryl around 6:00 pm in preparation for dinner, then we eat about a half hour later. Right now, I'm able to eat almost anything I want so that's been nice. Tonight I think we'll have a four-bean chili.
At 7:00 pm we try to find something to watch on TV for the evening. Unfortunately, this is usually more difficult than it sounds. There just aren't that many great shows on TV. If we're lucky, we'll find a decent movie to watch. Otherwise, it's a lot of channel surfing until 9:00. Then we might watch King of Queens. I usually talk to the kids at this time of day, too. They'll call me or I'll call them and we'll talk about what's going on in their worlds. Jack always asks to do a "family quiz", which means I ask him a question like "who is your dad's mom?" and he has to tell me the name of the person. He's getting pretty good at it.
Bedtime usually comes at around 9:30. Then it's off to dreamland till the next day comes.
Like I said, it's nothing exciting but that gives you some indication of how I spend my days down here . . . and why I can't wait to get home!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Feeling Better So Time To Get Fat
Hi all . . . Jeff here. Dr. Legha tweaked my antinausea prescription so I've been feeling much better the last couple of days. Still a bit tired, but at least I can eat. In fact, we're going to try to do a big pasta meal tonight. After several days of not eating due to the nausea, my weight was down to less than 135, which is what I weighed as a freshman in high school. So my focus from now until the next hospital visit is to eat, eat, eat. Hopefully the pasta will stick to my ribs and add a few pounds per day. I would like to get back up in the 150+ range.
I received word yesterday day that my blood counts are back to normal so I don't have to take my daily Neupogen shot. I give it to myself and it really isn't that difficult to do (fortunately), but I find that I don't like poking myself. It gives me a new appreciation for what diabetics must go through. I think of my grandma Bonnie (my dad's mom), who had diabetes for many years and had to give herself an old-fashioned injection every day. You do what you have to do, of course, but it isn't fun.
Not much else to report from this end. I'm spending a lot of time resting. It seems like I can lay down and nap at just about any time of day. It's probably because my red blood count is low and that takes longer to build back up (the Neupogen shot is for white blood count). I get a weekly Procrit shot for the red blood count but it takes four weeks to work effectively. The goal is to keep the counts high enough to continue the treatment schedule.
Thanks for all your posts, letters, and prayers. I've really been trying to focus on going through this just one day at a time, and your outpouring of support has helped me do that. Take care, Jeff
PS A special big thanks to everyone involved with the fundraiser next weekend. I'm humbled and amazed at what a production it is turning out to be. They'll be doing a feature article in the Wauwatosa News Time, and Mr. Kev from Kelly's band is doing radio interviews in town to get out the word. You don't know how badly I wish I could be there to join everyone. I think my mom and dad and the kids will be there, though, so the Dodd family will be well represented.
I received word yesterday day that my blood counts are back to normal so I don't have to take my daily Neupogen shot. I give it to myself and it really isn't that difficult to do (fortunately), but I find that I don't like poking myself. It gives me a new appreciation for what diabetics must go through. I think of my grandma Bonnie (my dad's mom), who had diabetes for many years and had to give herself an old-fashioned injection every day. You do what you have to do, of course, but it isn't fun.
Not much else to report from this end. I'm spending a lot of time resting. It seems like I can lay down and nap at just about any time of day. It's probably because my red blood count is low and that takes longer to build back up (the Neupogen shot is for white blood count). I get a weekly Procrit shot for the red blood count but it takes four weeks to work effectively. The goal is to keep the counts high enough to continue the treatment schedule.
Thanks for all your posts, letters, and prayers. I've really been trying to focus on going through this just one day at a time, and your outpouring of support has helped me do that. Take care, Jeff
PS A special big thanks to everyone involved with the fundraiser next weekend. I'm humbled and amazed at what a production it is turning out to be. They'll be doing a feature article in the Wauwatosa News Time, and Mr. Kev from Kelly's band is doing radio interviews in town to get out the word. You don't know how badly I wish I could be there to join everyone. I think my mom and dad and the kids will be there, though, so the Dodd family will be well represented.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Slow Road . . .
Hi Everyone:
Well, Jeff's having a hard time. His "second week" (of Cycle Three of biochemo) ends today. This was supposed to be the rest and recovery week, however, he has been extremely nauseous since he was released from the hospital. This means that for the past week he has been unable to eat anything of substance or hold anything down. He's frustrated and discouraged because all he can do is suffer through it--he can't change it. Dr. Legha changed Jeff's anti-nausea medications with hope that a different drug combo would work better for him, but so far he hasn't seen any change for the better. Dr. Legha said that Jeff needs to try to drink as much as possible so he doesn't get dehydrated. If he can't hold liquids down, Dr. Legha threatened to put him on IV nutrition.
Jeff had a rough day yesterday as well, in addition to the usual nausea and throwing up, he had blood tests (which meant he couldn't eat or drink anything), and due to an administrative error in the doctor's orders, he was unable to get a time-sensitive Procrit shot to improve his red blood count, and he also had to wait 2 and a half hours in the doctor's office due to a scheduling error. So, he started his day around 8:00 a.m. and ended it around 5:30 p.m., in the meantime he was completely malnourished and backlogged in multiple medical appointments--all of which only exacerbated his nausea and fatigue.
Today, he goes back for more blood tests and his Procrit shot. I pray that all goes well for him and that he can begin to regain some weight and strength. I wish with all my heart there was more that I could do for him. I'm sure having such a difficult recovery week makes him feel all the more alone. Even though he always has people in his presence (generally, me or his mom), we, unfortunately, cannot bear this terrible burden for him. Although we can empathize, we cannot truly comprehend his feelings and fears. Ugh! I don't even know what else to say . . .
On a more positive note, one of Jeff's best friends is coming to visit him next week. Marc Schulte is flying to Houston from Seattle to spend a couple of days with Jeff and Mary. Like Jeff, Marc is philosophical and intellectual, but also fun and an all-around cool guy. Even if Jeff doesn't feel good while Marc is there, I'm sure they'll have a good time.
On the home front, Jack is on the mend but Regan and I have colds. Aubrey is starting to cough. Oh well. That's the way it goes.
I have a work meeting, so I have to sign off. Until next time . . .
Kelly
Well, Jeff's having a hard time. His "second week" (of Cycle Three of biochemo) ends today. This was supposed to be the rest and recovery week, however, he has been extremely nauseous since he was released from the hospital. This means that for the past week he has been unable to eat anything of substance or hold anything down. He's frustrated and discouraged because all he can do is suffer through it--he can't change it. Dr. Legha changed Jeff's anti-nausea medications with hope that a different drug combo would work better for him, but so far he hasn't seen any change for the better. Dr. Legha said that Jeff needs to try to drink as much as possible so he doesn't get dehydrated. If he can't hold liquids down, Dr. Legha threatened to put him on IV nutrition.
Jeff had a rough day yesterday as well, in addition to the usual nausea and throwing up, he had blood tests (which meant he couldn't eat or drink anything), and due to an administrative error in the doctor's orders, he was unable to get a time-sensitive Procrit shot to improve his red blood count, and he also had to wait 2 and a half hours in the doctor's office due to a scheduling error. So, he started his day around 8:00 a.m. and ended it around 5:30 p.m., in the meantime he was completely malnourished and backlogged in multiple medical appointments--all of which only exacerbated his nausea and fatigue.
Today, he goes back for more blood tests and his Procrit shot. I pray that all goes well for him and that he can begin to regain some weight and strength. I wish with all my heart there was more that I could do for him. I'm sure having such a difficult recovery week makes him feel all the more alone. Even though he always has people in his presence (generally, me or his mom), we, unfortunately, cannot bear this terrible burden for him. Although we can empathize, we cannot truly comprehend his feelings and fears. Ugh! I don't even know what else to say . . .
On a more positive note, one of Jeff's best friends is coming to visit him next week. Marc Schulte is flying to Houston from Seattle to spend a couple of days with Jeff and Mary. Like Jeff, Marc is philosophical and intellectual, but also fun and an all-around cool guy. Even if Jeff doesn't feel good while Marc is there, I'm sure they'll have a good time.
On the home front, Jack is on the mend but Regan and I have colds. Aubrey is starting to cough. Oh well. That's the way it goes.
I have a work meeting, so I have to sign off. Until next time . . .
Kelly
Friday, March 9, 2007
Work that runway!
Hi All:
Well, I'm back in Milwaukee. I arrived home yesterday evening--thanks to Gary and Mary Margaret for picking me up in Chicago and another Big Thanks to John Polking for dropping me off at the airport in Houston. You wouldn't believe how much these offers of kindness help!!
I talked to Jeff a few minutes ago in anticipation of giving you all an update. His voice is much stronger today than it was last night, but he still isn't eating much. He's down to 138 pounds which creates a little bit of a dilemma. He knows he needs to gain weight, but if he loses just a few more pounds he can qualify for SuperModel status. So, he doesn't know if he should get better or get fabulous! Ha!
So, Mary is working on fattening Jeff up and he is resting as much as possible. While she takes care of her son, I'm trying to take care of mine: Jack is very sick and it has apparently affected his view on life. This morning he accused me of "hating him" because I "left for work too early." I'm sure he was just distraught to see me leave for work and felt insecure about it. I only got home last night and now I was already leaving him! He grilled me with a hundred questions this morning: "Will you come home early?" "How will I know if you're going to come home early?" "Do you have to work tomorrow?" "Will you call me after lunch?" "What if you forget?" I know how scary it must be for him to feel like he never knows who will be babysitting him or taking him places or putting him to bed and I'm sure it is very disconcerting to worry about how long I'll be home before I have to leave again and he just doesn't know how to express his fears and, therefore, doesn't know how to deal with all the change and uncertainty. Poor Baby. But he's trying to find continuity and ways to adapt. For example, he likes Aubrey to give him his medicine (he's on antibiotics for pneumonia) and when she came home from school yesterday he ran to her and said "Huggy" (which is his baby-talk for "Hug me!). Like I've said before, I'm so glad the kids at least have each other through all this. They really are the only ones who are sharing the experience from the same perspective.
One happy distraction for them (and for all of us) has been the impending birth of their baby brother. Grandpa Gary put the crib together this week, so the baby is a little more tangible for them now. Last night when I arrived home, all the kids greeted me and the baby separately (hugs for me; pats and kisses for him). Michelle and Mary Margaret watched and felt him kick and played "name that body part" with the kids as everyone tried to guess whether the hard lumps in my stomach were elbows or knees, feet or hands. It was very sweet.
Well, I'll post another update when I have something to report. Until then, please keep checking-in. It's so nice to know you all still care.
Kelly
Well, I'm back in Milwaukee. I arrived home yesterday evening--thanks to Gary and Mary Margaret for picking me up in Chicago and another Big Thanks to John Polking for dropping me off at the airport in Houston. You wouldn't believe how much these offers of kindness help!!
I talked to Jeff a few minutes ago in anticipation of giving you all an update. His voice is much stronger today than it was last night, but he still isn't eating much. He's down to 138 pounds which creates a little bit of a dilemma. He knows he needs to gain weight, but if he loses just a few more pounds he can qualify for SuperModel status. So, he doesn't know if he should get better or get fabulous! Ha!
So, Mary is working on fattening Jeff up and he is resting as much as possible. While she takes care of her son, I'm trying to take care of mine: Jack is very sick and it has apparently affected his view on life. This morning he accused me of "hating him" because I "left for work too early." I'm sure he was just distraught to see me leave for work and felt insecure about it. I only got home last night and now I was already leaving him! He grilled me with a hundred questions this morning: "Will you come home early?" "How will I know if you're going to come home early?" "Do you have to work tomorrow?" "Will you call me after lunch?" "What if you forget?" I know how scary it must be for him to feel like he never knows who will be babysitting him or taking him places or putting him to bed and I'm sure it is very disconcerting to worry about how long I'll be home before I have to leave again and he just doesn't know how to express his fears and, therefore, doesn't know how to deal with all the change and uncertainty. Poor Baby. But he's trying to find continuity and ways to adapt. For example, he likes Aubrey to give him his medicine (he's on antibiotics for pneumonia) and when she came home from school yesterday he ran to her and said "Huggy" (which is his baby-talk for "Hug me!). Like I've said before, I'm so glad the kids at least have each other through all this. They really are the only ones who are sharing the experience from the same perspective.
One happy distraction for them (and for all of us) has been the impending birth of their baby brother. Grandpa Gary put the crib together this week, so the baby is a little more tangible for them now. Last night when I arrived home, all the kids greeted me and the baby separately (hugs for me; pats and kisses for him). Michelle and Mary Margaret watched and felt him kick and played "name that body part" with the kids as everyone tried to guess whether the hard lumps in my stomach were elbows or knees, feet or hands. It was very sweet.
Well, I'll post another update when I have something to report. Until then, please keep checking-in. It's so nice to know you all still care.
Kelly
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Quick Update
Hi Everyone:
I only have time for a very quick update. Jeff got out of the hospital today. He's doing very well. In fact, I think he's doing better than he's ever done on his first day out. I, on the other hand, have been completely exhausted and sick for the past two days. I fly back to Milwaukee tomorrow and I honestly don't know how I'll ever make it through work on Friday. Also, Jack has pneumonia. So, when it rains it pours!
I'll continue to keep everyone updated from Milwaukee. It appears that Jeff will have a much easier recovery period this time around. We'll have to wait and see I guess.
Someone is waiting to use the computer, so I'm sorry I have to keep this so short! I'll try to write more later after I'm home. Until then, thanks again for all your prayers and concern. It has been such a comfort to all of us!
Kelly
I only have time for a very quick update. Jeff got out of the hospital today. He's doing very well. In fact, I think he's doing better than he's ever done on his first day out. I, on the other hand, have been completely exhausted and sick for the past two days. I fly back to Milwaukee tomorrow and I honestly don't know how I'll ever make it through work on Friday. Also, Jack has pneumonia. So, when it rains it pours!
I'll continue to keep everyone updated from Milwaukee. It appears that Jeff will have a much easier recovery period this time around. We'll have to wait and see I guess.
Someone is waiting to use the computer, so I'm sorry I have to keep this so short! I'll try to write more later after I'm home. Until then, thanks again for all your prayers and concern. It has been such a comfort to all of us!
Kelly
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Update from Kelly
Hi Everyone:
Just thought I'd check-in and give everyone an update. We're about a day and a half into Cycle Three and Jeff is sleeping soundly. Poor thing--whenever he wakes up, he thinks it's a new day. He asks, "is it morning?" I then have to tell him, for example--"No. It's still Friday. It's 5:00 p.m. We've only been here for 24 hours." He feels like the time creeps by SO slowly. He rues the day that the Atavan knocked him out for two days straight. At least it made the time go faster.
Now, I'm going to spill all the juicy dirt about Jeff's PET scan. He was a little economical with the facts in his last post. He was still reeling from the anxiety of having to wait for the scan results and was disturbed by having to hear the doctor talk in such matter-of-fact terms about his condition, so I think he could only muster the strength to give you all a summary. I'm sure what he really wanted to hear from the doctor is that "You are cured! It's a miracle! I've never seen a patient respond so definitively and completely to treatment! Yahoo--let's celebrate!" Remember, Jeff is an overachiever, so he perceives anything other than a commanding success to be a disappointment. But, as the information continues to sink in, I think he is coming to appreciate how well he is doing. He didn't get the news he dreamed of getting, but he got something pretty darn close.
The PET scan showed that after only two biochemo cycles, Jeff has only one lesion left on his liver, whereas before treatment he had five! It also showed that the lesion near his kidney has gotten smaller and that of all his subcutaneous nodules (again, 5 were on the original scan), only one is still visible on the PET scan and it has also decreased in size. I think that's pretty remarkable. Jeff thinks there is room for improvement.
We were originally told at MD Anderson that Jeff had two lesions on is liver. In actuality, there were 5, but only two of those were measurable. The other three were little "lurkers" that were too tiny to measure, but that were lying there in stealth. We also learned that Dr. Legha found two additional subcutaneous nodules on Jeff's original scans. We knew that Jeff had nodules in his right chest wall, lower left back, and right hip. Dr. Legha also found nodules in his left arm and left thigh (although these had not yet made their way to the surface where they could be felt). On the new PET scan, all of these are gone except for the one on his hip which has gotten smaller.
One caveat to all of this good news is the constant threat of a latent brain metastasis. Dr. Legha will do another brain MRI after the end of this third cycle to monitor Jeff's brain because, as he explained, biochemo has a hard time reaching the brain and may not necessarily be working on the brain as well as the rest of the body. As a result, the disease can continue to grow or spread in the brain even though the rest of the body is stable. A brain metastasis would be a terrible blow because, as Dr. Legha says, "it completely fouls up our whole plan."
So, that is your new assignment: Pray for a clean MRI with no evidence of the disease in Jeff's brain! Pray, pray, pray! Your hard work has definitely paid off, so far. I expect nothing less in the future! Things really have gone as well as we could have reasonably expected them to go. And, although there have been highs (finding Dr. Legha) and lows (having to suffer so much uncertainty), I hope the "lows," if any, continue to be very minor disappointments and that none of them will be actual setbacks or things that change the course of Jeff's treatment and ultimate recovery.
I realize that we've really been very very fortunate to sail so smoothly through treatment, thus far. And although I know Jeff may not see it that way (he is tortured to be away from his kids and hates the nausea and fatigue), I hope he will find the presence of mind to be thankful for how well he is doing. He sometimes gets discouraged because all of this is so hard, and, unfortunately, he is least receptive to the things that would cheer him up when he needs them the most. For example, when he feels his worst, he can't read or watch TV or talk on the phone or do any of the things he would normally do to distract himself or cheer himself up. I suppose all we can do during those times is pray that his mind is at peace and that he has no fear. Because, I really feel like the "fear" has been the worst part of all of this. Dr. Legha asked Jeff "what has been the hardest part of your treatment so far?" And Jeff said "the fear and uncertainty." Jeff realizes that even if he receives a clean bill of health at the end of biochemo and has no evidence of the disease--it may only be "for now." And he dreads the thought of having to perpetually defend against this disease and the anxiety of waiting for the results of every scan and test he will have every few months for the rest of his life. I don't know how you learn to live with that, but I guess we'll have to figure out how. Actually, I'd be very happy to be given the opportunity to learn to live with it. I'd happily live a hundred years with that anticipation and anxiety so long as nothing comes of it!
Well, this post has gotten too long already, so I'll sign off. Before I do, though, I want to thank my Mom for coming to Wisconsin to help me with the kids! It was so great to have her there and she was a huge help-she knew exactly what to do. THANK YOU, MOM!
P.S. The baby continues to use my ribs like a set of monkey bars!
Love, Kelly
Just thought I'd check-in and give everyone an update. We're about a day and a half into Cycle Three and Jeff is sleeping soundly. Poor thing--whenever he wakes up, he thinks it's a new day. He asks, "is it morning?" I then have to tell him, for example--"No. It's still Friday. It's 5:00 p.m. We've only been here for 24 hours." He feels like the time creeps by SO slowly. He rues the day that the Atavan knocked him out for two days straight. At least it made the time go faster.
Now, I'm going to spill all the juicy dirt about Jeff's PET scan. He was a little economical with the facts in his last post. He was still reeling from the anxiety of having to wait for the scan results and was disturbed by having to hear the doctor talk in such matter-of-fact terms about his condition, so I think he could only muster the strength to give you all a summary. I'm sure what he really wanted to hear from the doctor is that "You are cured! It's a miracle! I've never seen a patient respond so definitively and completely to treatment! Yahoo--let's celebrate!" Remember, Jeff is an overachiever, so he perceives anything other than a commanding success to be a disappointment. But, as the information continues to sink in, I think he is coming to appreciate how well he is doing. He didn't get the news he dreamed of getting, but he got something pretty darn close.
The PET scan showed that after only two biochemo cycles, Jeff has only one lesion left on his liver, whereas before treatment he had five! It also showed that the lesion near his kidney has gotten smaller and that of all his subcutaneous nodules (again, 5 were on the original scan), only one is still visible on the PET scan and it has also decreased in size. I think that's pretty remarkable. Jeff thinks there is room for improvement.
We were originally told at MD Anderson that Jeff had two lesions on is liver. In actuality, there were 5, but only two of those were measurable. The other three were little "lurkers" that were too tiny to measure, but that were lying there in stealth. We also learned that Dr. Legha found two additional subcutaneous nodules on Jeff's original scans. We knew that Jeff had nodules in his right chest wall, lower left back, and right hip. Dr. Legha also found nodules in his left arm and left thigh (although these had not yet made their way to the surface where they could be felt). On the new PET scan, all of these are gone except for the one on his hip which has gotten smaller.
One caveat to all of this good news is the constant threat of a latent brain metastasis. Dr. Legha will do another brain MRI after the end of this third cycle to monitor Jeff's brain because, as he explained, biochemo has a hard time reaching the brain and may not necessarily be working on the brain as well as the rest of the body. As a result, the disease can continue to grow or spread in the brain even though the rest of the body is stable. A brain metastasis would be a terrible blow because, as Dr. Legha says, "it completely fouls up our whole plan."
So, that is your new assignment: Pray for a clean MRI with no evidence of the disease in Jeff's brain! Pray, pray, pray! Your hard work has definitely paid off, so far. I expect nothing less in the future! Things really have gone as well as we could have reasonably expected them to go. And, although there have been highs (finding Dr. Legha) and lows (having to suffer so much uncertainty), I hope the "lows," if any, continue to be very minor disappointments and that none of them will be actual setbacks or things that change the course of Jeff's treatment and ultimate recovery.
I realize that we've really been very very fortunate to sail so smoothly through treatment, thus far. And although I know Jeff may not see it that way (he is tortured to be away from his kids and hates the nausea and fatigue), I hope he will find the presence of mind to be thankful for how well he is doing. He sometimes gets discouraged because all of this is so hard, and, unfortunately, he is least receptive to the things that would cheer him up when he needs them the most. For example, when he feels his worst, he can't read or watch TV or talk on the phone or do any of the things he would normally do to distract himself or cheer himself up. I suppose all we can do during those times is pray that his mind is at peace and that he has no fear. Because, I really feel like the "fear" has been the worst part of all of this. Dr. Legha asked Jeff "what has been the hardest part of your treatment so far?" And Jeff said "the fear and uncertainty." Jeff realizes that even if he receives a clean bill of health at the end of biochemo and has no evidence of the disease--it may only be "for now." And he dreads the thought of having to perpetually defend against this disease and the anxiety of waiting for the results of every scan and test he will have every few months for the rest of his life. I don't know how you learn to live with that, but I guess we'll have to figure out how. Actually, I'd be very happy to be given the opportunity to learn to live with it. I'd happily live a hundred years with that anticipation and anxiety so long as nothing comes of it!
Well, this post has gotten too long already, so I'll sign off. Before I do, though, I want to thank my Mom for coming to Wisconsin to help me with the kids! It was so great to have her there and she was a huge help-she knew exactly what to do. THANK YOU, MOM!
P.S. The baby continues to use my ribs like a set of monkey bars!
Love, Kelly
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Back in the saddle again . . .
Hi all . . . Jeff here.
Well, I'm writing this from my hospital room, which means that we're continuing with treatment! That's a BIG prayer answered. The radiologist compared my recent scan to a CD copy of my earlier scans and indicated that the lesions had decreased in size. Dr. Legha said it was not possible to determine exactly how much they had decreased--evidently, it's difficult to draw precise measurements when comparing a digital image to an actual film--but he believed it was enough to justify proceeding with treatment. The most hopeful sign from him was his attitude. He acted surprised that we would be nervous. He said the fact that my subcutaneous nodes (the bumps on my back and sides) had responded to treatment was a good indication that the internal lesions had responded as well. I admit that I still feel a bit nervous about the whole thing. It's hard to hear someone talk in detail about lesions inside your body and come away feeling good about it. Nevertheless, I am very grateful to be sitting here in the hospital. Another round of biochemo is nothing compared to the anxiety I've felt the past several days. Hopefully the treatment will continue to work effectively on all of the cancer.
I'll be out of commission for the next week or two, so I'd like to say thank you to everyone once again for all your thoughts and prayers. One of the two high points of my day comes when I can check this blog and the Dodd Family Fund guestbook to see your comments. The other high point is when I check the mail and find the letters and packages so many of you have sent. I love reading it all, and it helps take my mind off the treatment for a little while. And another big thanks to everyone for continuing to do so much to help our family during this tough time. Thanks to all the families at Wilson School and St. Jude Parish, to our neighbors, to the members of the ND Clubs of Milwaukee and Houston, and to our many friends and relatives. You have all done so much to make this experience easier for me and my family.
Speaking of family, I'd like to say hi to Aubrey, Regan, and Jack. I miss you guys a lot. It would be much easier to go through all this if I had you around. I'm already looking forward to the next time you get to come to Houston!
Well, the nurses and pharmacists are working on my drug cocktail as I write this so I'll sign off for now. Hopefully I'll be conscious enough to watch American Idol tonight to see who gets the boot.
Jeff Dodd
Well, I'm writing this from my hospital room, which means that we're continuing with treatment! That's a BIG prayer answered. The radiologist compared my recent scan to a CD copy of my earlier scans and indicated that the lesions had decreased in size. Dr. Legha said it was not possible to determine exactly how much they had decreased--evidently, it's difficult to draw precise measurements when comparing a digital image to an actual film--but he believed it was enough to justify proceeding with treatment. The most hopeful sign from him was his attitude. He acted surprised that we would be nervous. He said the fact that my subcutaneous nodes (the bumps on my back and sides) had responded to treatment was a good indication that the internal lesions had responded as well. I admit that I still feel a bit nervous about the whole thing. It's hard to hear someone talk in detail about lesions inside your body and come away feeling good about it. Nevertheless, I am very grateful to be sitting here in the hospital. Another round of biochemo is nothing compared to the anxiety I've felt the past several days. Hopefully the treatment will continue to work effectively on all of the cancer.
I'll be out of commission for the next week or two, so I'd like to say thank you to everyone once again for all your thoughts and prayers. One of the two high points of my day comes when I can check this blog and the Dodd Family Fund guestbook to see your comments. The other high point is when I check the mail and find the letters and packages so many of you have sent. I love reading it all, and it helps take my mind off the treatment for a little while. And another big thanks to everyone for continuing to do so much to help our family during this tough time. Thanks to all the families at Wilson School and St. Jude Parish, to our neighbors, to the members of the ND Clubs of Milwaukee and Houston, and to our many friends and relatives. You have all done so much to make this experience easier for me and my family.
Speaking of family, I'd like to say hi to Aubrey, Regan, and Jack. I miss you guys a lot. It would be much easier to go through all this if I had you around. I'm already looking forward to the next time you get to come to Houston!
Well, the nurses and pharmacists are working on my drug cocktail as I write this so I'll sign off for now. Hopefully I'll be conscious enough to watch American Idol tonight to see who gets the boot.
Jeff Dodd
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