Lately, we have experienced many bits of good news. We brightened each time the CA19-9 dropped, we cheered when the scans showed that the tumor was shrinking, we celebrated when we learned that Derek became a surgical candidate. For weeks, we've been following the "Get to Surgery" plan, and with all of the good news, it's been easy to lose sight of the magnitude of it all. Yesterday, we got a hefty dose of reality that quite honestly hit us like a ton of bricks.
After weeks of anticipation, we finally had a second meeting with Dr. M at U of C to learn about his approach to Derek's surgery. He spent a considerable amount of time drawing us sketches and showing us scans to help us fully comprehend what Derek's surgery could entail. We learned that the surgery must be done in phases where Dr. M would go in, explore, and then biopsy the tissue surrounding the tumor before proceeding. Hopefully, he can perform a tumor resection that does not leave microscopic cells behind, but he may go in and have to turn back because the risk could be too great. Or he may proceed with the resection yet unavoidably leave tumor tissue or microscopic cells behind. He told us that there are no guarantees. We just won't know until he goes in and performs the surgery.
After an hour of tumor talk and surgery speak with Dr. M, we were reminded that this is Pancreatic Cancer we're dealing with. Like diabetes and heart disease, the surgeon explained that pancreatic cancer patients who present just like Derek are rarely cured; they're treated. The silver lining here is that Derek has gotten the best response from the chemo that we could have hoped for, and the fact that surgery is even an option gives him a greater chance of a favorable outcome...an outcome that hopefully gives us lots of time. Time makes way for the discovery of more treatments; treatments that will continue to give us more time; more time for the discovery of newer treatments and so on. Time is the golden ticket here.
After the appointment, I clung to some of the surgeon's parting words: "You have reasons for hope." It reminded me of what my brother, Jeffrey, told us in the very beginning about having every reason to be hopeful. We feel lucky to be in a position where we still have so much to hope for now that Derek will be heading into surgery. But it's still scary as hell.
We left the appointment in the haze of reality, forced to face the fact that there is still a long, uncertain road ahead of us. Later last night, our three children laughed and sang and danced in our living room, untouched by the curveball life has thrown our way. They were the perfect distraction from a difficult day, and before I knew it, we were laughing, singing and dancing again too.
Deepest thanks to all who are following our journey. You lift us up with hope, optimism and love. xoxo