Being a Patient

I had surgery yesterday.  It had been 3 months since I started the hormonal therapy so it was time to get an update on whether we were making any progress with beating this cancer.  I was nervous all week, not about the surgery (well a little about the surgery) but mostly about having surgery done in my hospital where I know all of the staff in the operating rooms – the nurses, anesthesia residents, nurse anesthetists, attending anesthesiologists, etc.  We had planned for the surgery to be in the outpatient operating rooms which are smaller with less staff and I thought they would be a little more private.  I picked which of my attendings I wanted to be my anesthesiologist and she had agreed.  

The surgical procedure – a hysteroscopy (they put saline into the uterus and look with a camera) and dilation and curettage (D&C, they scrape the lining of the uterus) really isn’t that big of a deal as far as surgeries go.  But when it is you, of course it is a big deal.  It only takes about 30-45 minutes but the surgery is scheduled for longer to include anesthesia time.  Sometimes this can be done under heavy sedation but sometimes general anesthesia.  I had been instructed to stop the megace one week before the procedure.  

Three days before the surgery, I received an email from my doctor’s surgical scheduler that my surgery had been moved to one of the main operating room suites.  I was totally upset and frustrated.  Three months before we had planned for the outpatient operating rooms and I had just gotten used to that idea.  I asked her if it would be possible to move it back to the outpatient ORs but ultimately that wasn’t possible.  Also, because they moved me from an early morning case to a late morning case, the anesthesiologist I had chosen was not able to do my anesthesia.  She had offered to come in on her nonclinical day just to do my case but had an appointment in the early afternoon that she couldn’t cancel.  I understood, but this was just more frustrations to deal with the day before surgery.  

My middle sister had been planning to visit for the weekend and when she found out that my surgery was Friday, she came on Thursday night instead so that she could support us and help out if we needed anything.  

Friday morning I think my hubby was more nervous than I was.  I am sure I would freak out if he was having surgery also.  We had to be at the hospital at 9:30.  He went out and bought me People and US Weekly so that I could read all the newest gossip and distract myself while we waited for the procedure.  We parked in my parking garage and checked in on the patient side of the ORs.  I had been on the other side hundreds of times but didn’t even know where to check in as a patient!  

First, they took me back to the prep area by myself.  They took vital signs, had me provide a urine sample to make sure I wasn’t pregnant (sigh…), and had me change into the super cute gown with compression stockings (prevent blood clots) and footie socks.  Then they put a big (!) IV into my left arm and finally let my hubby and sister come back.  Thank goodness for gossip magazines because it had probably been an hour before they were allowed back. People I knew were walking by so I kept requesting that they close curtain for a little more privacy.  We spoke with the anesthesia team (another attending who I felt very comfortable with and a nice female nurse anesthetist), the surgeons, and the nurse from the OR.  About another hour after my hubby and sister had come back (I had been through US Weekly, People, and a lot of games of solitaire on my phone by then), they wheeled me back to the OR, after giving me medicine to make me less anxious and a little loopy.  I remember moving onto the OR table but that’s about it until I woke up in the recovery room, after general anesthesia.

I had a nice nurse in the recovery room.  I woke up with some crampy pain but he gave me pain meds that helped quickly.  No nausea though!  He brought my husband back pretty soon after I had woken up.  Apparently my hubby explained everything the surgeon had told him but I don’t remember much of it at that point.  He stayed for a little while, and then left to let my sister come back.  I moved out of the stretcher into a recliner and they let me have apple juice and crackers.  

My sister and my hubby switched again.  The anesthesiologist and the nurse anesthetist both came to check on me.  The surgeon came to tell me about the procedure also.  About an hour later, I had peed (required before I could leave), drank 2 cups of apple juice, and ate a whole bunch of crackers.  I wasn’t bleeding too much and was only a little groggy.  One of my co-residents came to sign me out of the recovery room and my hubby went to get the car while I got changed.  I was annoyed that it is a requirement that post-surgical patients leave in a wheelchair (I didn’t want to wheel by people I knew down in the lobby!) but I got through it without passing too many familiar faces and hubby was waiting in the car.  

The surgeon told us that everything went really well.  There was some large polypoid tissue that she expects in patients who have been on progesterone (my megace).  She showed us pictures.  There was some bleeding but it stopped easily.  She told me to restart the megace the next morning.  She would get the results in the next week and they would discuss my case at their next tumor board conference the following Friday.  I should schedule an appointment for the following Wednesday or Thursday to get the results and the plan.  

So we have to wait a week and half for the results…  I am tempted to peek on our electronic patient record system before then but I will hold myself back.  I will keep you posted!

Why Me?

I promise that this blog will not be a 'woe is me, I have cancer' experience. But I do think that I deserve one post like this.

Why me?  Why us?  Infertility was devastating enough, now uterine cancer?  I am a good person. My husband is a good person.

I have always worked hard. I try my best to take care of myself, eat well, exercise. I take care of people at the hospital everyday who do not do these things and I do not judge.

We both love kids.  When I was little, I was disappointed that I didn't get to have a baby sister or brother (although now I see that being the youngest definitely has it's perks).  I started to babysit as soon as I was allowed.  I volunteered in a daycare center and a hospital rocking babies. My husband still spends a crazy amount of time coaching little kids hockey. We love, love, love our nieces, nephews, and our goddaughter.

I have always dreamed about being a mother to three or four blonde, curly haired kids.   I always imagined being pregnant and breastfeeding.  Now I don't know if I can have even one of those things.

Even if things go well for us with my treatment, we will not be able to choose how many kids we want, spaced as we want them.  Don't get me wrong, it is a miracle of modern medicine that we might even be able to have a child with my diagnosis. Years ago, I would already have had a hysterectomy by now. But this is my 'why me' post, so why me?

For the past year, we have planned to buy a house in the suburbs, at least 4 bedrooms to fit all of the kids we planned. Will we be able to fill those bedrooms?

Because it's my personality, I have to end even this post saying that I know that we will get through this and become parents, one way or another.  Our little miracles might not have my blond, curly hair but they will be ours.  And wow they will be loved!

Some Answers

Wednesday morning we arrived at the gyn-onc office early for my 8:00 appointment.  I looked around the waiting room and every woman there had gray hair.  They were all accompanied by their husbands.  I had that part going for me.  We waited awhile, but we were just happy that they managed to fit us in so that part was no big deal.  We were both getting more and more nervous though.  

Finally we were taken back to an exam room.  We waited a few more minutes and then spoke with the nurse practitioner first.  She had already reviewed all of my records and was familiar with my case.  She was nice, young, and I felt comfortable with her.  Then we spoke with the doctor.  I think she has a calming personality that made me feel a little better.  We also recognized each other from the operating rooms.  

When we started to discuss treatment, the first thing she said was that the standard treatment for endometrial cancer is a hysterectomy.  Gulp…

Then we found out that I was a candidate for conservative treatment with hormonal therapy for several reasons:  the pathology of the tumor was only Grade I, my MRI was negative for signs of invasion into the uterine wall or metastasis, and my chest x-ray was negative for metastasis to the lung.   But, they made sure several times, that we understood that the standard treatment is a hysterectomy (gulp again…) and that conservative treatment would not be without risk.  There was a chance that the hormones wouldn’t make the tumor regress.  There was risk that the cancer could grow and spread while we tried this.  But, they thought that it was a reasonable plan if we wanted to preserve my uterus for potential fertility.  

They were unsure (like my infertility doc) why I developed this cancer at such a young age.  Endometrial cancer is typically a disease of post-menopausal women.  The younger women who develop it typically have one of two risk factors that create a hormonal environment with high estrogen levels: polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) or obesity.  I did not have either.  Genetics can, of course, play a role so they suggested that I see a geneticist.  

She answered all of our millions of questions.  I knew that I would think of more when I walked out the door and they both volunteered their email addresses to field questions.  

We left with a plan and here it is:

I would start hormonal therapy with megace (megestrol) that day.  Megace is a progesterone-like hormone.  Because endometrial cancer is a hormonal condition and is fed by high estrogen levels, therapy with progesterone can make it regress.  

They would request that my original pathology samples be tested for estrogen and progesterone receptors in the tumor.  High estrogen and progesterone receptor levels imply that the cancer should be responsive to this treatment.  

I would take megace for 3 months.  In 3 months (June) I would have another surgical procedure – a hysteroscopy and dilation and curettage.  This endometrial sampling would give us more information on whether the cancer is responding to the treatment.  

If the cancer has regressed in 3 months (June), I would continue the megace for another 3 months.  At that time (September), I would have another surgical procedure.  If the cancer was still gone, we could try IVF! 

If the cancer had not regressed in June, I would double my megace dose and try again in September.  If it had not regressed in September, we could try megace for another 3 months.  In December, if the cancer had not regressed, I would have a hysterectomy.  

Basically, we had 9 months to try to get this thing to go away.  

So, best case scenario, we could try IVF in the fall!  Worst case scenario…  I would have a hysterectomy within 9 months.  But they would let us harvest eggs before then.  That would also be complicated though, because the procedures for harvesting eggs require estrogen, which could feed the tumor if it lingered anywhere in my body.  They suggested I see another reproductive endocrinologist and infertility specialist who they frequently worked with for another opinion on fertility preservation.  

The other overall theme was that I need a hysterectomy no matter what.  Attempting to get pregnant and have a baby (or two) would just delay the inevitable.  Some women with this cancer have one pregnancy and are still clear afterwards and can get pregnant again.  Some women relapse after pregnancy in which case a hysterectomy might be the recommended treatment with or without another course of megace.  If we were allowed a second pregnancy, it would have to be soon after the first.  I had never planned on having multiple kids within a year, but if that is my worst problem then that would be just wonderful!  

So we left the office, dropped the prescription off at Rite Aid, and headed to Starbucks for a drink (mine decaf – I gave up caffeine when we started trying to get pregnant!) while we waited for the prescription.  We arrived home with two drinks and a bottle of megace.  I crossed my fingers that I wouldn’t be allergic to this potential miracle drug and we toasted with our coffees while I took the first dose. 

An Amazing Friend

I got the most amazing email today.  It brought tears during my lunch break from the OR.  My great friend emailed me that she and her husband have been thinking for months about potentially being a surrogate for us.  She told me that they have done research on the process and have really thought about it.  She has one child and her pregnancy was uncomplicated.  

She said that she didn’t know how to bring it up earlier because she didn’t want to imply that she thought we would never have our own children.  She knows that we will (hopefully!) be trying IVF and if we do we will hopefully (!) be successful.    

It means the world to us that they have thought about giving us this gift.  I cannot imagine a greater gift than helping us have a child.  

Of course there are many complicated decisions that go into this process and we would go through every one in detail.  But for now, it makes me smile and definitely eases my nerves, to know that our great friends are out there for us.  And if they change their mind, absolutely no hard feelings!  

I feel so fortunate to have wonderful, supportive friends and family.  

My Productive (and Humorous) Monday

I had an agenda for Monday.  First I called the gyn-onc office again to see if I could get an earlier appointment.  The correct assistant was back in the office and said, "No problem!  We will fit you in first thing Wednesday morning, after the doctor sees the morning chemo patients."  My first thought was "Yes!  That is only 2 days away!"  My second thought was, "Chemo?  Wow..."  I called my hubby and told him the good news.  We would have some answers on Wednesday.  

I called my infertility doctor's office to request my records. The gyn-onc doctor wanted to take a look at these at my appointment. They were incredibly nice there (they were nice throughout the infertility process but now they all knew what was going on) and said they would have copies ready by lunch.  
 
Next I planned to go get my chest x-ray.  I headed to my hospital - I say my hospital because I have been there for 6 years, 4 as a medical student, and now 2 as a resident.  As I walked in the door of the outpatient building and registered with the prescription in my hand, "chest x-ray. diagnosis: endometrial adenocarcinoma, rule out metastasis," I realized that I was now a patient here.  Of course I had had my share of primary care, gyn and eye doctor appointments in the past, but I had never actually been "sick" before.  And I didn't even feel sick.  It was a strange feeling to be on the other side of the medical world.  The x-ray was easy and even a little interesting.  I had looked at hundreds of chest x-rays but never actually seen one done.  Now I know. 
 
My next task was lunch!  I had to take advantage of a little time out of the hospital (away from work, I mean...).  My cousin and I met for a yummy lunch and to discuss all of this.  I picked her up for lunch and got a phone call from my oldest sister while we were in the car.  Over my car's bluetooth so we could both hear, my sister said, "I have some bad news for you."  I was thinking, "what now...?"  "The girls both got sent home from school today with lice and since you and (hubby) were with them all week, you need to check yourselves for lice."  Seriously?  We all started laughing.  She explained in detail how we needed to check our hair.  I couldn't help but feel itchy all through lunch. 
 
After lunch we headed to Rite Aid to find some lice searching supplies.  Its a good thing I have a supportive cousin who was willing to look through my thick blonde curly mess.  We followed my sister's instructions thoroughly and didn't find any of the little nasty things in my hair.  I searched through my husbands later and didn't find any there either.  We were clear! 

After getting cleared I drove to the fertility center to pick up my records. They were ready for me at the front desk but I walked back to the billing office with a quick insurance question.  I had met one of the billing specialists multiple times, a really nice woman. She walked me out to the board of baby pictures (their success stories) and pointed to one and told me the story. The baby's mother had been diagnosed with some type of cancer and was unable to carry a pregnancy. Her mother worked in an office and had shared her daughter's story with her colleagues. One of the woman who worked in her mother's office volunteered to be their surrogate. They were able to harvest eggs and after a successful surrogate (gestational carrier to be politically correct) pregnancy they had a beautiful healthy baby. With my eyes tearing I thanked her for sharing the inspirational story, took my records, and headed out to my car. 
 
Now to focus on Wednesday's appointment...  I called my program director who gave me the day off for the appointment.  I just had to survive one day working in the operating rooms before we would have some answers. 

My Rollercoaster

I already told you about my rollercoaster feeling.  It's that feeling like your stomach is dropping out of your body, like going down a really fast steep hill on a rollercoaster. At the beginning, it happened to me every time I thought about my new diagnosis and especially every time I thought about telling my friends and family.

On the plane home that next day (after a Florida day of lunch outside and then pool time with the whole family) I had that feeling almost constantly thinking about what was to come back at home.  I think I also soaked through the shoulder of my hubby's shirt with a few tears (just a few...).  We were planning when to tell our best friends because we knew we would need support at home.

Now that I am a few months away from that time it has gotten a little better.  The rollercoaster feeling is much more mild and not as frequent. But I still remember exactly where we were when we told or best friends and family.  You heard the story about my family so here are a few other rollercoaster feelings:

My in-laws heard the news via the phone while on vacation in Hawaii. Talk about ruining a vacation...

Couple #1, our friends and my cousin: we stopped over on our way home from the airport and were sitting in their living room.

Couple #2, our great friends and parents of our goddaughter: at their house for dinner, sitting in their family room, after she was asleep.

Couple #3, our close friends: after a dinner with couple #1, we were walking home together and asked them to stop at our house so we could talk to them.  In our living room.

Friend #1: in our living room before dinner

Friend #2, college roommate: over the phone in a hospital hallway corner

Other college roommies: via email. It was just too hard to make that many difficult phone calls (and the west coast time change is a major pain!)

By now we have told more people, but it is still a struggle to figure out who needs to know and when to tell them.  This is such a personal thing but I am starting to feel like it doesn't need to be a secret.  Not  that I plan to shout it from the rooftops.  My hubby made one decision easy last weekend when we were at a wedding.  We were talking with friends that we hadn’t seen in months.  He brought up that he had just learned someone we knew used a surrogate.  I am sure these friends had no idea why we would care about surrogates but it led to the discussion of why.  I had wanted to tell them but wasn't sure a wedding weekend should be the time!  That brought on the rollercoaster feeling, but much more mild than last February and March.

A Little Good News

On Friday, my middle sister was flying in and my older sister and I planned to pick her up at the airport and give her the news.  But before the airport trip, it was “Generations Day” at our nieces’ preschool.  My hubby and I headed there with my mom to be the girls’ “generations.”  Each class sang one or two songs in a little show.  Then we headed to their classrooms to help them with a craft.  We switched back and forth between their two classrooms and they were pretty adorable!  

On the way to the airport I again had the rollercoaster feeling in my stomach, thinking about telling my sister.  When we picked her up, she immediately asked me how my time in Florida had been.  I couldn’t lie and said it had been “fine.”  “Fine?  Just fine?  Your Florida vacation!” she said (she is a very enthusiastic person!).  “Well we have some not good news that explains it.”  Our older sister and I relayed the news and events of the past few days.  She was, of course, surprised and concerned but very supportive.  We decided that lunch outside was in order and called my mom and hubby to meet us there with the girls.  It was a great restaurant but I just wasn’t that hungry – I hadn’t been since I heard the news.  

My dad called in the middle of lunch to let me know that he had received the pathology report that we sent earlier and his gyn onc colleague had reviewed it.  He was encouraged that the path was Grade I and thought that I would be a candidate for conservative treatment if I met the other criteria.  That was good news but I mostly just pushed my food around for the rest of lunch.  It was starting to hit me that vacation was ending and I was going to have to deal with this in the world of real life and my demanding job. Could I handle it all? 

My oldest sister told me later that she was feeling sick to her stomach at lunch after I spoke with my dad on the phone and came back and only pushed my food around.  She was worried that he had given me bad news about the MRI.  Thank goodness that wasn't the case.

That afternoon I called the gyn onc department again, trying to get an earlier appointment.  The appointment secretary was still out of the office but would be back on Monday so I decided to try again from home.  Then my dad called with the results of the MRI.  Good news!  There was no sign of invasion into the uterine wall, no sign of enlarged lymph nodes, and no sign of metastases!  That was a huge relief (to say the least).  

I was relieved but starting to feel really nervous about everything I had to get done when I got back home.  I am an anesthesia resident and I was scheduled to be back in the operating room bright and early on Monday morning.  That meant spending a few hours on Sunday evening preparing for my cases and planning by phone with my attending.  It also meant that I would be in the operating room all day with a 15 minute break in the morning, and a 30 minute break for lunch.  No time during business hours for phone calls (or chest x-rays)…  It was time to tell my program director and determine what level of support I would have.  

I gathered the courage to tell my first non-family member (and my boss!) and called.  She was incredibly supportive.  Right away she told me that the program and the department would support me however I needed.  If I needed time for appointments, they would help.  If I needed time off, they would work with me to provide this.  She told me that my health was the most important thing and that they would do whatever I needed.   And she gave me a nonclinical day on Monday so that I could ease back into work and organize all of the things I needed to get done!  

I felt a little more under control and not quite as terrified of returning to the real world. I even called my good friend that night (rollarcoaster feeling...) and gave her the news.  She came to visit right after my surgery so she had been the first to know about our struggle with infertility, and playing with her adorable 5-month-old boy had been a great distraction as I recovered.  She was floored at the diagnosis - I had told her the polyps were no big deal - but also optimistic.  

As I prepared to head back home, I knew that I already had support up and down the east coast.