We've set up this blog to share updates about Steve's health and treatment. Please bookmark and visit anytime to see the latest news. All posts will say they're posted by "Celeste," but will be written by Carol and Steve--Celeste is just the technical help.
If you would like to be notified of updates, you can subscribe using a blog reader (such as Google Reader)--paste the URL (steveshealthupdates.blogspot.com) into your reader.
If you'd like to get in touch, please email Carol directly.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
Update: December 16, 2011
Note: The following is Steve's update of December 16, 2011, reposted here for those who missed it or would like to catch up.
*******
Dear friends and family,
An update of progress and such over the last two weeks: nothing elaborate or extensive, but a
status report.
My radiation treatments are over. There were twelve of them, and I believe (and hope) they
were successful. Until we have further pictorial evidence--catscans, for example--I can go only
by how much easier it is to swallow. So far so good. Radiation doesn't hurt, and the technicians
at the Clinic couldn't have been better in terms of sensitivity and concern for my comfort, but
even they couldn't prevent the two chief aftereffects: nausea and fatigue, both of which took up
residence after each treatment. Now that I am not receiving daily doses of radiation, I am hoping
that they will diminish. I can swallow better, but there is nothing I want to eat, and if I do have a
few sips of something, it usually doesn't sit very well.
The oncologist wants to begin chemotherapy fairly soon. While I'd like to have a short period
of feeling not too bad between treatments, I understand his "the sooner the better" attitude.
Part of my discomfort might be caused by the as-of-yet untreated cancer in other parts of my
body, so delay is counterproductive. And who knows if I'll have that period of feeling not too
bad anyway? The chemo will go on for several months, apparently, and I can only hope that
aftereffects of those treatments will be a little milder than those of the radiation were. But there's
no reason to expect that. My first chemo treatment will be on the 28th, and proceed weekly from
then.
I've had some very nice visits during the past few weeks. My brother-in-law and niece came a
couple of weekends ago, and my sister-in-law is here now. A few friends have spent some time
with me, and I have enjoyed every one of those of visits. A very close friend is coming in from
the west coast in mid-January. Carol and I did get to play bridge the other night (and I think we
played well), but it was tiring and we had to call it a night at what normally would have been a
very early hour. But we did it, and we have the next bridge evening scheduled for our house.
All of the "hang in there" and "you can do this" and "we're thinking of you" and "let me know
what I can do for you," alongside the cards and books and such, are having their intended
effect. I can hardly look around from the chair where I spend most of my time and not see some
tangible symbol of your collective well wishes. What a team I have working for me!
I thought I might get double duty out of this message by including what would normally have
gone into our family holiday letter. Most of you receiving these messages would be getting that
too, so this year it will come electronically. After the obligatory "can you believe it's already
December 2011" section, and going on and on about adorable Dylan is, I would tell about three
trips we took this year. In May Carol and I had a wonderful trip to China, organized mostly by
Celeste's mother, Lily. We were a group of five--the two of us, Lily, and two other friends. We
visited Beijing, Xi'an, Guilin, Shanghai, and Guangzhou. Of course it was a highlights tour, and
our list of what we saw and did only hints at what the possibilities were. We especially enjoyed
the Great Wall and the Terra Cotta Soldiers, and in Guilin, the river cruise through the gumdrop
mountains. It was great. In September we went in the other direction and spent around nine
days in Switzerland hiking in the Alps. We arranged with John and Margaret Gleeson (he had
been the head master in the English school where I taught in the 80s) to meet them, and we
had a glorious time in some absolutely spectacular scenery. We had trails, meadows (acoustic
meadows, with the sound of cowbells seemingly everywhere), peaks and valleys and lakes. It
was one breathtaking vista after another. We did six or seven miles a day. It was unforgettable.
And now this.
For the third trip, I will not recount my illness or its treatment. The third major journey that I
took this year, the one I am still traveling on, is this journey toward an awareness of how much
love sits around us all the time, and how we tend to go about our daily lives without much
thought of it. We don't think enough about how many people truly care about us, or about how
much people need us to care about them. There's a paradox in here, because I'm saying that we
do have significant concern for each other, but we seem not to know it or its extent, especially at
the times when that knowledge can make a world of difference to someone in great need. I have
been extremely fortunate in having collected around myself over the years a cadre of expressive
and generous people, so I was able to learn quickly and unquestionably just how pervasive and
persuasive such expressions of affection can be. I believe we need to remember also that many
people need our love when they are not showing any outward visible signs, and that the world is
made a much better place for many people by the simple expression of a kind word or thought.
I hope I am able to provide comfort to others, to some of you, who I know are enduring your
own struggles, and repay what can be only a small portion of the great kindness so many have
shown to me. There are no great walls on this journey, or armies of clay soldiers. There are
no breathtaking panoramas. But there is hope, there is comfort, and there is love. It's the best
journey of them all.
I know that at this time of year many of you will be celebrating holidays with families and loved
ones, perhaps at home, perhaps as part of travels. Whatever your own situation, I hope you all
have restful, sustaining, rewarding visits and celebrations, and to the degree that my somewhat
weakened good wishes can contribute to your good times, you will let me add to your holiday
pleasures.
Steve
*******
Dear friends and family,
An update of progress and such over the last two weeks: nothing elaborate or extensive, but a
status report.
My radiation treatments are over. There were twelve of them, and I believe (and hope) they
were successful. Until we have further pictorial evidence--catscans, for example--I can go only
by how much easier it is to swallow. So far so good. Radiation doesn't hurt, and the technicians
at the Clinic couldn't have been better in terms of sensitivity and concern for my comfort, but
even they couldn't prevent the two chief aftereffects: nausea and fatigue, both of which took up
residence after each treatment. Now that I am not receiving daily doses of radiation, I am hoping
that they will diminish. I can swallow better, but there is nothing I want to eat, and if I do have a
few sips of something, it usually doesn't sit very well.
The oncologist wants to begin chemotherapy fairly soon. While I'd like to have a short period
of feeling not too bad between treatments, I understand his "the sooner the better" attitude.
Part of my discomfort might be caused by the as-of-yet untreated cancer in other parts of my
body, so delay is counterproductive. And who knows if I'll have that period of feeling not too
bad anyway? The chemo will go on for several months, apparently, and I can only hope that
aftereffects of those treatments will be a little milder than those of the radiation were. But there's
no reason to expect that. My first chemo treatment will be on the 28th, and proceed weekly from
then.
I've had some very nice visits during the past few weeks. My brother-in-law and niece came a
couple of weekends ago, and my sister-in-law is here now. A few friends have spent some time
with me, and I have enjoyed every one of those of visits. A very close friend is coming in from
the west coast in mid-January. Carol and I did get to play bridge the other night (and I think we
played well), but it was tiring and we had to call it a night at what normally would have been a
very early hour. But we did it, and we have the next bridge evening scheduled for our house.
All of the "hang in there" and "you can do this" and "we're thinking of you" and "let me know
what I can do for you," alongside the cards and books and such, are having their intended
effect. I can hardly look around from the chair where I spend most of my time and not see some
tangible symbol of your collective well wishes. What a team I have working for me!
I thought I might get double duty out of this message by including what would normally have
gone into our family holiday letter. Most of you receiving these messages would be getting that
too, so this year it will come electronically. After the obligatory "can you believe it's already
December 2011" section, and going on and on about adorable Dylan is, I would tell about three
trips we took this year. In May Carol and I had a wonderful trip to China, organized mostly by
Celeste's mother, Lily. We were a group of five--the two of us, Lily, and two other friends. We
visited Beijing, Xi'an, Guilin, Shanghai, and Guangzhou. Of course it was a highlights tour, and
our list of what we saw and did only hints at what the possibilities were. We especially enjoyed
the Great Wall and the Terra Cotta Soldiers, and in Guilin, the river cruise through the gumdrop
mountains. It was great. In September we went in the other direction and spent around nine
days in Switzerland hiking in the Alps. We arranged with John and Margaret Gleeson (he had
been the head master in the English school where I taught in the 80s) to meet them, and we
had a glorious time in some absolutely spectacular scenery. We had trails, meadows (acoustic
meadows, with the sound of cowbells seemingly everywhere), peaks and valleys and lakes. It
was one breathtaking vista after another. We did six or seven miles a day. It was unforgettable.
And now this.
For the third trip, I will not recount my illness or its treatment. The third major journey that I
took this year, the one I am still traveling on, is this journey toward an awareness of how much
love sits around us all the time, and how we tend to go about our daily lives without much
thought of it. We don't think enough about how many people truly care about us, or about how
much people need us to care about them. There's a paradox in here, because I'm saying that we
do have significant concern for each other, but we seem not to know it or its extent, especially at
the times when that knowledge can make a world of difference to someone in great need. I have
been extremely fortunate in having collected around myself over the years a cadre of expressive
and generous people, so I was able to learn quickly and unquestionably just how pervasive and
persuasive such expressions of affection can be. I believe we need to remember also that many
people need our love when they are not showing any outward visible signs, and that the world is
made a much better place for many people by the simple expression of a kind word or thought.
I hope I am able to provide comfort to others, to some of you, who I know are enduring your
own struggles, and repay what can be only a small portion of the great kindness so many have
shown to me. There are no great walls on this journey, or armies of clay soldiers. There are
no breathtaking panoramas. But there is hope, there is comfort, and there is love. It's the best
journey of them all.
I know that at this time of year many of you will be celebrating holidays with families and loved
ones, perhaps at home, perhaps as part of travels. Whatever your own situation, I hope you all
have restful, sustaining, rewarding visits and celebrations, and to the degree that my somewhat
weakened good wishes can contribute to your good times, you will let me add to your holiday
pleasures.
Steve
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Update: December 4, 2011
Note: The following is Steve's update of December 4, 2011, reposted here for those who missed it or would like to catch up.
*********
Dear friends and family,
Last Sunday I sent out an update that outlined what we expected to be going on during the
coming week, and then on Monday the whole shebang took a sharp turn to the left. After my
radiation treatments began on Friday, I found it increasingly difficult to swallow (just when I had
been thinking that things were getting better there), and by Monday I was hardly able to consume
anything. We estimated perhaps 50 calories on Monday. So when I saw the radiation oncologist
after Monday's treatment, she determined that I needed to have the feeding tube inserted as soon
as possible, and I was admitted to the hospital as an emergency patient on Monday evening.
The hospital story could be a very long one, but I haven't got the energy to tell it. Suffice it to
say that I had the surgery on Wednesday (how ironic--that was the day it had been scheduled for
originally), and I came home on Friday. I now have a feeding tube through which I am currently
receiving all my nourishment. That will continue until such time as I can supplement that with
food by mouth, but right now, even though I can swallow small sips of water, we are relying on
the tube for all of it. That means I am connected to a pump, and therefore the electricity in the
wall, and so I am limited in my movement. I can disconnect if I need to, and occasionally I do
(such as now), but by and large I am tethered to the apparatus and it goes where I go.
Radiation continues on weekday afternoons, and we are hoping to see progress on that front.
I did not get to play bridge the other night. Several of you commented on that detail from what I
wrote before. Our next game will be in a couple of weeks, and we will try again.
In general I am feeling a little stronger each day, and while Boredom is a fairly constant
companion, it is little by little taking the place of Discomfort.
I make no predictions for the coming week except for more of the same. Carol continues to be as
dependable and unflagging a helpmeet as one could want.
I thank you all again for the many, many messages of good wishes. It is much easier to remain
positive when surrounded by positive people (unlike my roommates at the hospital--someday I
may have to tell that story), and so you are providing me a great service. Several of you wrote
extended messages that I want to respond do individually, and when I can, I will.
Steve
*********
Dear friends and family,
Last Sunday I sent out an update that outlined what we expected to be going on during the
coming week, and then on Monday the whole shebang took a sharp turn to the left. After my
radiation treatments began on Friday, I found it increasingly difficult to swallow (just when I had
been thinking that things were getting better there), and by Monday I was hardly able to consume
anything. We estimated perhaps 50 calories on Monday. So when I saw the radiation oncologist
after Monday's treatment, she determined that I needed to have the feeding tube inserted as soon
as possible, and I was admitted to the hospital as an emergency patient on Monday evening.
The hospital story could be a very long one, but I haven't got the energy to tell it. Suffice it to
say that I had the surgery on Wednesday (how ironic--that was the day it had been scheduled for
originally), and I came home on Friday. I now have a feeding tube through which I am currently
receiving all my nourishment. That will continue until such time as I can supplement that with
food by mouth, but right now, even though I can swallow small sips of water, we are relying on
the tube for all of it. That means I am connected to a pump, and therefore the electricity in the
wall, and so I am limited in my movement. I can disconnect if I need to, and occasionally I do
(such as now), but by and large I am tethered to the apparatus and it goes where I go.
Radiation continues on weekday afternoons, and we are hoping to see progress on that front.
I did not get to play bridge the other night. Several of you commented on that detail from what I
wrote before. Our next game will be in a couple of weeks, and we will try again.
In general I am feeling a little stronger each day, and while Boredom is a fairly constant
companion, it is little by little taking the place of Discomfort.
I make no predictions for the coming week except for more of the same. Carol continues to be as
dependable and unflagging a helpmeet as one could want.
I thank you all again for the many, many messages of good wishes. It is much easier to remain
positive when surrounded by positive people (unlike my roommates at the hospital--someday I
may have to tell that story), and so you are providing me a great service. Several of you wrote
extended messages that I want to respond do individually, and when I can, I will.
Steve
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