Karen and Stage 4 Colon Cancer

12 Years Later

noreply@blogger.com (karenscancer.blogspot.com) — Thu, 18 Apr 2019 00:02:00 +0000

Hello to all my family and friends and amazing supporters! It has been 12 years and 10 days since I was told I had stage 4 colon cancer. For 5 years I underwent multiple chemo treatments, had 2 surgeries, radiation therapy, experienced a short remission, then relapse, and remission again.

That remission is still in place 7 years later. Yes. 7 years. I hope someone reading this finds hope in that. It hasn't been 7 months. It's been 7 years. Every single scan I've had (most recent being 1 week ago) has been clean. I thank you all still. For all the prayers, support and love that has been shown myself and my family. The shine and beauty of that support and love has never faded.

I've been wanting to update the blog for awhile and my friend Emily, by her own cancer situation has prompted me to do it.
Emily is from England. She contacted me 3 years ago after reading my blog, and we have been friends ever since. She got in contact with me because she too, had also been diagnosed with stage 4CC. She had given birth to her daughter only 2 months prior.
She has battled and fought, been through hell and back many times over and is still here fighting. She is trying to raise money for a self funded liver transplant in Norway. I understand not everyone can donate. If you can give anything I thank you. You can also do great things by sharing her story on social media, by praying for her and maybe sending her words of encouragement. If nothing else just reading her story will inspire you as to the power of the human spirit.

Here is the information.

Here is the link for her fundraiser:
https://www.gofundme.com/emilylocking

Here is the link if you want to follow her story on FB:
http://www.facebook.com/emilylocking1

After dealing with cancer and death in my face for so long I have come to some conclusions. I feel that living life to the fullest doesn't really mean climbing Mount Everest, traveling the world, or jumping out of a plane etc. It's the actions we take and the things we do and say to help someone else. I don't mean financially. But even sending a word of love, or support can accomplish so much.

Thank you again to everybody for everything.

Best,
Karen

Stage 4 Colon Cancer: The Great Isolator

noreply@blogger.com (karenscancer.blogspot.com) — Fri, 20 Apr 2018 16:09:00 +0000

Hello my friends. All is fine with me, please don't worry. I am writing this to reach out to those who are dealing with late stage cancer.

Being diagnosed with late stage cancer is devastating. But you can hardly grasp all of the devastation at once. It's like seeing a town decimated by a tornado. To take it all in. To really wrap your head around what these people have lost and now have to deal with is mind boggling. I am sure the victims of such devastation don't know where to start.

When you are diagnosed with stage 4 cancer it's the same. Your mind is reeling. Your family and friends minds' may be doing the same, but perhaps not to the depths and extent that you, the diagnosed, are experiencing.

There can be very dark places your mind and spirit go when dealing with stage 4 cancer. You want to share with your loved ones. But how can they respond to your thoughts that consist of your worst nightmares that are now reality? They want to understand but they cannot, and all you end up doing is upsetting them and each other.

There are dark places of death that now always walk with you. There are feelings of a deep sickness in your gut when you think of leaving your children without a parent. Your mind wanders to thoughts of what will it be like if/when you're not around. It sends shivers up your spine and terrifies you.

To hold all that unto yourself can be part of the burden of cancer. It can be even more unbearable than the physical pain and suffering. That is the isolation. It can make your spirit feel like stone and hold it hostage.

It is a profound thing then, to be able to know someone and speak to someone who knows what you are going through. I have thought so much about this. What is it that comforts us when we find someone who has, or is walking in our exact shoes, on our same path? Why do we feel comforted? Why is there that immediate comfort we feel with them, when so little needs to be explained?

I think it's because now there is a link. To someone, to something. We feel less alone. Perhaps we feel that now our burden is shared.
When that burden is shared with someone already deeply familiar perhaps it makes it easier to get through the next minute. To take a few more steps on a path that is terrifying, ambiguous. A path that no one knows how or when it will end. No answers. That is part if stage 4 cancer. To share that with someone who knows, connects us to other human beings and takes away the isolation. Maybe delivers our spirit from those bindings and helps us handle our illness a little better. And love those around us more purely.

Please know you are not alone. I have been where you are and only want to be able for you to know I am here for you in anyway I can be.

Don't beat yourself up from being down, or negative or discouraged. You're human. It won't all of sudden make your tumors grow. Sometimes we just need to put our head in our hands and cry and hurt. But don't give up. Never give up.

For me personally until my oncologist said to me, "Karen there is nothing more to do. We need to call hospice." Then I wasn't giving up. I felt discouraged at times, negative, and yes, I complained. But then I picked myself up and kept going. Never give up.

My Warmest Regards,
Karen

6 Years Of Remission

noreply@blogger.com (karenscancer.blogspot.com) — Tue, 23 Jan 2018 01:53:00 +0000

Hello all my family and friends. It has been a year since I have posted and I apologize. I'm doing it now though!

I have had 2 scans since I last posted. The most recent one being this past month. Both, as with the last 15 or so have been clean. I am talking squeaky clean people!

I don't know why I didn't post last time, or the time before. I think my heart wasn't in it. I have been so lucky to be healthy for so long without a recurrence while at same time I was experiencing people my age and younger dying from the same disease. I just felt too conflicted posting my good news I think.

I want to switch gears a bit and speak to a very special group of people. I want to speak to those out there reading this who are going through cancer whether it be late stage or not. Maybe you have just been diagnosed, or been battling for awhile.
I am here for you. Please feel free to contact me. Even if you just need to vent. Maybe you need to say those things that are so hard to express, or have your loved ones understand.

Though you are loved and have well meaning people around you, late stage cancer can be very isolating. The fear and debilitating effects of chemo can bring you to your knees. The knowledge that after all you are putting yourself through with chemo and other treatments, may in fact not net a curative result. It makes you want to give up. You want to stop. Say just forget it. But people will be afraid if you tell them that. Tell you to stay positive. Which is a normal reaction. But your mind is screaming, "I can't do this anymore!" That's what it feels like after awhile. What do you do with those thoughts and feelings that are as real as the air you breathe?

How do you handle when you lose someone you have bonded with, with the same cancer? You think that could be me. That fear feels like ice water in your veins that can stop your heart. Followed by the guilt of thinking that, followed by the guilt of still being alive.

When you see your family suffering and scared and hurting. Adults knowing they could lose you. Your kids seeing you sick. Knowing you can't say, "don't worry honey, I'll get better and it won't come back." That is one of the worst, most sickening feelings I have ever experienced.

You are not alone. I know what your going through. Please don't hesitate to contact me. You shouldn't carry this alone.
My thoughts and prayers are with you.

Karen

Clean For 2017!

noreply@blogger.com (karenscancer.blogspot.com) — Tue, 24 Jan 2017 03:58:00 +0000

I start this first post of 2017 saying I am now 5 years NED!! I have had 2 scans since I last posted, the most recent being in December of 2016. Clean, clean, clean in 2017!
So here I am cancer free still. I am starting to even entertain the idea of considering myself a "healthy" person. That isn't a category I put myself in. When Dr. Moriarty told me 5 years ago that there is no evidence of cancer it's not as if all of a sudden, "poof" the last 5 years of fear and illness, and well, fear and illness disappear. Not to mention the cancer had been gone and come back before. So I am pretty slow to move on I guess. But over the last month I would think "hmm just maybe....I can entertain healthy." Is that so bad? I guess I am getting there.

It has definitely been a different kind of journey these later 5 years dealing with the emotional aftermath of things. Something I didn't anticipate after remission and felt guilty for even having to admit any struggles at all.
But I would much rather be working on that than be living the ambiguity of late stage cancer. I am so grateful. There are many people I am grateful too also. Not the least of whom, is Dr. Daniel Moriarty. That guy had the nerve to retire last April! Can you believe it?

I couldn't bring it up in the last post. My emotions were too raw. Having known the whole year previous this day was coming, I don't think it mitigated my heartbreak all that much. Logically I knew it was good and right. Deep down I was and still am very happy for him. But after being in the trenches hand and hand with this person, this person who not only saved my life, but became my mentor, my cheerleader, and a very cherished friend saying goodbye does not come easy. He saw me through 5 years of hell, and the next 4 years recovering from hell and all the fear and worry of recurrence that comes with being in remission. Aside from my husband I don't think anyone else has seen my cry and stomp and blubber more than this man. What a lucky guy huh?

There are only a few people in this world who have deeply impacted my life in the way that he has. So if you have a moment please spare a kind thought and/or a prayer for my friend. Someone who possesses great intelligence, wisdom, and even greater compassion not only for me, but for all of his patients, absent of all the ego he has every right to have. That's what makes him a beautiful doctor, and an even more beautiful human being.
That's my Dr. Moriarty. I miss him, but I am so happy for his new life, and I hope it is full of joy, and laughter and peace.

Thank you Dr. Moriarty.

Still Here My Dears!

noreply@blogger.com (karenscancer.blogspot.com) — Fri, 29 Apr 2016 21:58:00 +0000

Hello my friends and family! I am finally updating! Thank you to my friends out there for letting me know you wanted to hear how things were. It lit a fire under me to get moving on the blog.

Things with my health are perfect! I had scans in late January of this year and my scans came back clean-again! I repeat myself every time but it completely shocks me every time. It humbles me and re-energizes me. I am still gonna be here for awhile!

I am still getting my blood work done every 2 months and my scans every six months. I don't think that routine will change for quite a while if at all. Maybe when I am 80 or 90? Maybe for my 80th birthday I will have the courage to get my port taken out!

Everyone here in the Shanahan household is great. The kids are now 10 and 12 growing up great and being kids. Fran is working hard and running all the time all over the place and I am living and breathing and working and loving being alive!

So this past April 7th marked the 9th year from my diagnosis. I had tumors in my liver but didn't know what that meant. I didn't know what stage 4 meant. I didn't know anything. Now 9 years later I feel like I know too much. I asked a lot of questions in the "early days" which is important and good. Always question and make sure your with the right people who will treat you.

Through this cancer and remission experience, I am very lucky to be able to talk to a lot of folks with stage 4 colon cancer through emails that I get through this blog, and through a great organization called Cancer Hope Network. In essence, they match cancer survivors to cancer patients. I consider it a privilege to work with them.

Through speaking to people the one main question I get asked is if I did anything with my diet or alternative medicine. I understand this question and when I was first diagnosed asked those same questions. Dr. Moriarty said that I could try alternative things in conjunction with chemo but he stressed it wouldn't do anything for the tumors. In regards to diet, all the nurses, Dr. Moriarty, along with the oncology dietitian I met with encouraged me to eat. Period. Keep the calories going in so my body can do what it needs to do.

Now I am not a doctor and I am not qualified to give medical advice of any kind (only dental)! But I am a qualified cancer patient. I feel very passionate about this topic because there is a lot of stuff out there that preys on the very raw and ragged fears and anxieties that cancer patients have.

I never changed my diet. I ate pretty healthy before I was diagnosed. Fruits, vegetables, drank tons of water, ate lean protein and I worked out. I also had my sweets and kept things in balance. After my diagnosis I did the same thing. Except- except for when I had chemo. The first few days eating and staying hydrated was the greatest challenge. Sometimes I would barely eat and just sip Gatorade (I now despise Gatorade). If the next day I felt like eating a bowl of ice cream I would eat that. Once the chemo funk lifted I would go back to my regular eating routine. My point is I am still here. I know everyone is different and has their own beliefs. But when you have stage 4 colon cancer you are fighting for your life. There is so other way to say it. So I don't think starving yourself before chemo, or not eating any sugar etc. is going to help you at all. You are making yourself even more miserable, and depriving your body of the nutrients and carbohydrates it needs to fight back, to keep your muscles strong, to keep your immune system from collapsing. To keep you from losing your mind!!
I know people who did all different kinds of things. They followed traditional medicine protocol with chemo and added,with the approval of their doctor, alternative medicine. Some stopped eating sugar. Some people like my very dear and wise friend Don when he felt good, and his tongue could taste-enjoyed all the culinary delights the world had to offer. I know someone who refused chemo and insisted on eating a "special cancer diet" of cottage cheese, peaches, and peanut butter.
All of these brave people have passed away. My point being this late stage cancer stuff is a crap shoot. I know that sounds cold and unfeeling, but it's true. I can't say there is anything or anybody I know of who manged to get rid of cancer by diet. It is also what any peer reviewed, evidenced based medical journal will tell you.

In regards to people wondering if they should even do chemo and well meaning friends and family members cautioning them not to do it. I would not do that. Please don't tell someone who has cancer not to do to chemo. Unless of course on sound medical advice the doctors tell the patient they are too far along for help. That is a different situation, and not what I am talking about.

Chemo rots. It's rotten. It's toxic nasty stuff. But so are the tumors my friends, so are the tumors.
Chemo made me very sick. It made me bald, it made my mouth and throat full of sores. It made the soles of my feet feel badly sunburned making walking painful, it made some of my toenails fall off. It made me so nauseous and exhausted I wouldn't leave my bed all day and I fantasized about having a catheter so I wouldn't even have to get up to go to the bathroom. I was covered in pustulant, painful and sometimes oozing sores, and being in the sun made me feel like I had acid being poured on my face, my fingers were covered in bleeding fissures. Not to mention the explosive diarrhea followed by it's alter ego constipation. But guess what? It shrunk my tumors. It shrunk my colon tumor in so far as it was not there anymore. It disappeared. My tumors which were so many, and big (8 in my liver) that I could palpate them and feel them through my stomach. Chemo shrunk them enough that I was a candidate for surgery. Something that was just a dream for so long, was now possibly achievable. All because of chemo and my bodies response to it.

Please understand I am not judging anyone who has been on chemo and has had enough or who decide they don't want to do it at all. It's not my life it's theirs. I am giving my opinion on the general questions I get asked in regards to chemo and diet.

People say there is a big conspiracy going on and there is actually a cure for cancer! Did you know this? But too bad for us because all the doctors in all the whole wide world are hiding it from us along with big pharma so they can get rich on whatever they make from us little sicklings on chemo. Maybe one day Indiana Jones will find it deep in some jungle somewhere in special little vials guarded by a lot of booby traps.

But until that happens this is what we have. Chemo. Some people have hardly any side effects compared to me and compared to others. Everyone reacts differently. I know of an amazing woman in Scotland who emailed me. She has stage 4 colon cancer. She gets chemo every two weeks. She also works full time as a pediatric nurse, and works out more times a week than I do, doing boot camps and kickboxing and all kinds of stuff. That is the other side of it. You may not have any side effects.

When you stop for a second and think about it, think about all the commercials we watch for Viagra, Humira, every birth control on the market. Or just look up any medication. They are loaded with side effects. Some pretty scary ones. Chemo is no different.

To the newly diagnosed, I understand it is so scary when you read all the side effects there are. But you don't know which ones you are going to get and how strong or mild they are going to be. Once you start you get an idea of how you are going to react and you can kind of plan your life around that as you go. When we are diagnosed, life is worth living and we have to try. You can do it. If there is anyone out there peddling something else that is not proven they are lying to you and preying on your fears. This is what makes me so angry, because sometimes people listen to these quacks out of fear and desperation and they die, they never had a chance.

Maybe one day there will be a cure. It is something I pray for. There are better drugs coming out all the time and who knows where immunotherapy and cancer vaccines will take us in the future of cancer. But right now lets use what we have and try to be brave and surround ourselves with loved ones who's support and love is better than any medicine out there.

I want to thank everyone who has been emailing me and sending comments to encourage me to update the blog and let you all know I am still healthy and still in remission. God's mercy knows no bounds.

I want to encourage people to continue to email me if they want to through the contact page. I am happy to talk to you, and consider it a privilege.

Please let's continue to stop and smell the roses. Focus on your here and now. Put away the phones and be with your children. Tell your children to put away their phones and be with their parents (ha ha)! Enjoy your family and friends for who they are and where they are at, and love who God created you to be. Beautiful and perfect as you are. Time and life is precious.

All My Warmest and Best,
Karen

Stage 4 Colon Cancer-Just Keep Swimming!

noreply@blogger.com (karenscancer.blogspot.com) — Tue, 18 Aug 2015 02:25:00 +0000

Summer hello's to all my family and friends! I will get right to it.

I had my scans about a month ago and once again I held my breath and waited, planned out my chemo schedule and how I would handle it all, planned how we'd tell the kids. Because with every scan, with every blood test I expect the worst. Somehow, for reasons I will never understand God gives me the best.

Perfectly clean scans. Nothing. Dead calcified tumors still dead and calcified. No growth-no change.

Every other organ and scanned part of my body is normal. Unremarkable-as they say in the reports.
I love that word.
Unremarkable.

I have been feeling good, but still have to take things kind of easy. I have, finally, well almost 90% accepted that I can't do the things I used to do at a physical level. If I want to exercise-even if it's just a 2 mile walk I try and make sure I don't have to much to do the next day because my body will be physically drained. My memory is crap-the other day someone asked for my phone number and for 10 embarrassing seconds could not remember it. Thankfully it was over the phone and she couldn't see my blushing.

It's all good and I'm not complaining. I am grateful to be alive but I am just speaking to where I am now. I'll take it any day of the week.

We have been having a great summer, the kids are 9 and 11 now and thriving. I am so grateful to be by their sides and helping them and guiding (I hope!) them as they grow into this new tween/adolescent phase of their lives. It makes my heart rejoice to have made it with them this far in their lives. It feels like I've made it to another marker with each milestone in they come across and experience with each birthday they have.

There isn't much I can say that I haven't already said. I am very far from perfect or very learned and I will never claim to be. But one thing I do know. Each day we are on this earth is a gift. I don't even ask for God's blessing for tomorrow because I don't even know if that day will come. Be with each other, listen to one another, love and forgive. If you are alone and isolated in this life seek out others who are who are in the same boat, or who are having a difficult time. Give them your love and company and you will find that healing love and companionship returned to you. There is always someone who has it worse. Always. Seek them out and have compassion. That is what I have learned. Because life is hard, we all need love, and tomorrow may not come.

Thank you for your continued support and prayers. It means so much.

I also want to encourage anyone who wants to, please feel free to contact me with any questions or anything you want to talk about in relating to cancer. It never bothers me.

Much love to everyone,
Karen

Still Using The "R" Word

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 02 Dec 2014 17:12:00 +0000

Warmest of hello's to my family and friends. I hope all reading this are well, peaceful and happy.

Here I am-December 2014. Though it can change tomorrow or even today, I am still in remission. Three years-still in remission.
Cancer cells are still flowing around trying to find a place to take hold, which in my weaker moments terrifies me, but in most moments I can brush it off.

In November of 2011 Dr. Moriarty told me there isn't any clinical evidence of cancer. I think it took me just this past year to be comfortable saying that to people, though maybe it has taken me this long to believe it. And I am grateful. Most of the time I feel like I am living in a fantasy world. Like I am playing "life," like a child would play house. When I was diagnosed life became mind-numbingly difficult, everything was hard. I was living in a state of constant fear for my life, and no one could tell me it was going to be okay. That is sobering my friends. But today is different. All of that aforementioned stress, fear and anguish is gone.

Can you imagine? I just get to go to work, take care of my kids, go shopping, la, la, la. It's a breeze.

I am grateful for everyday I can wake up and put me feet on the floor. I am grateful that my children and husband, my family, are alive and healthy.

Everything else. Everything else icing on the cake.

Life is hard. Life is full of devastation and heartache. But if you stop and pause and take your time to live in the present, you can always find the greatness and kindness of life. Or at the very least find something to make you smile and bring you a moments peace, or healing. If you take the time to be still, be alive where you are, you can find it.

I cannot ever thank everyone enough, for all the prayers and support through-out these 7 and a half years. I will always be indebted to all of you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I continue to be monitored and have my blood checked every 4-6 weeks and my scans will be coming up in a month or so. If you don't hear from me - all is good.

I love you all and thank you for everything. I will continue to try and live my life gratefully in honor of all of you and in honor of all those no longer with us.

God Bless.

It's All Good

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 28 Feb 2014 04:29:00 +0000

Hello to all my family, friends, and loved ones. It has been such a long time. As you all my or may not know, my scan schedule is now every six months. I had a full body scan in January and am here to fill you in.

There but for the grace of God go I. My scans were completely clean. Abdomen, chest, pelvis-unremarkable. No signs of metastatic disease.

When I am blessed to get news like this it takes me time to absorb and contemplate. I never think my scans are going to be good simply because the last scans were. Cancer doesn't work that way. With stage 4 cancer it will never work that way. So it took me awhile to sit down, write and update everyone because I just need time to think, to believe it was true. So I thank you for your patience with me.

I am still seeing Dr. Moriarty every month and get my blood work done. My numbers are still good staying around 4 or 5, without any great leaps into higher numbers thank God.

I am still working two days a week, doing my dental hygiene thing. However my schedule has changed where I work on Mondays and Fridays and that has helped me physically regroup on those days off, as my immune system is crap and I have the stamina of a 90 year old. But that's very cool with me and I'll take it.

Life is great, but it can also be very difficult. I have been thinking so much about these opposing forces. Life is hard, it comes in so many forms, this hardness of life. The burdens we all carry. Be patient with one another because you may not know what heavy burden that person is dealing with that day. Be forgiving, it too, can be difficult, especially with those we love.
When we are on our deathbed, we may have the blessing, or sometimes the curse, of time before you pass. You want to know you can be proud of your life. I think we all know our lives can never be based on our careers, or money, or things. They will always be based on how we loved and gave of ourselves, especially in the most difficult of circumstances. You can never take material things with you. What you had or didn't have in this life is pointless. But your love, or lack of love for others will remain.

I have thought I was going to die many times over these last years and I have lost so many friends. I am blessed with having some time now to live. I have been trying to live in the moment, in the day I am in, and trying to be concsious of loving, listening and being still. I fail many times. But I keep trying.
Life is such a gift my friends. Please don't sweat the small stuff, it's just not worth it.

Thank you all for your continued love and support. Let's keep praying for each other-we all need it.

Love to all,
Karen

Still Here Alive and Kicking!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 27 Aug 2013 03:04:00 +0000

Well it's definitely time for an update. I hope everyone has been having a great summer!

Things here are still awesome. I am still here alive and well. Also, I am still mercifully without out evidence of any disease.

I haven't had chemo in 3 years and I think about, 15 days. My last procedure (SIR-spheres) was done almost 3 years ago this October.

I am lucky people. Lucky and blessed. That is probably the understatement of the year.

I had my last scan in June, and again everything came back completely clean and all is unremarkable. I continue to get my blood work done every month and my CEA (carcinoembryonic antigen-basically tumor markers in my blood) is around 5 and are holding steady.

It is so strange. If someone would say to you, "you have stage 4 colon cancer, but you just have to endure 5 years of treatment and you'll be fine," you would say (knowing the alternative of not being fine) awesome-let's rock. Well, that's what I would say anyway. But you don't know. You don't ever know what way it is going to turn out. I still don't know. In my mind I am health-wise in a dream place-I have won the lottery. But I also realize that I am on a waiting list for it to come back. My point being is that what is horrible about stage 4 cancer is the ambiguity.

Now I am NOT going through anything horrible. But I have been blessed and given the privilege of talking to people through a great organization Cancer Hope Network in which they match volunteers to patients with similar diagnosis' and treatments etc. In talking to my fellow stage 4ers that is what we talk about and that people struggle with the most. The ambiguity. The doctors don't know if treatment will work. They don't know if surgery will be successful. They don't know if you will get better. Isn't that an odd conundrum to be faced with friends?

When we get sick or hurt as children or adults, whether it be a cold, flu, broken arm, sprained ankle-there is the expectancy and then the fulfillment of that expectation that you will get better. Your doctors and nurses and general common sense will tell you that. Take this, wrap that, rest for awhile-and poof you get better. That's what we are used to happening.

When people are diagnosed with stage 4 cancer of any kind, they won't be told that. They won't ever know if they will get better. You just keep trying, and hoping and praying. Things can go great and then things come crashing down on your head. Therein lies the frustration for the person with stage 4 cancer. I know because I have been there, and because I hear it from so many other brave folks who don't know what their ending will be. I think tonight as I write, I am writing with them in mind.

In my opinion and experience pain is pain, blah-whatever. It stinks. But the mental struggle of, "will I live, how long will I live, do I keep going after years of chemo, chemo, chemo? Do I switch oncologists, am I with the right oncologist, what if I don't do this clinical trial or that?" Do I go to MD Anderson, do I go to Sloan Kettering,-what the flippin heck do I do?"

You are always questioning, and wondering and waiting. Waiting for those scan results, waiting for that report, waiting for that blood work, waiting in the hospital, waiting to get discharged, waiting for that call back from that doctor or nurse.

And ya know-all of it boils down to is people want to live. I don't care if you're 30 or 60 or 80 (if you make it to 80 that is pretty darn awesome though). The not knowing can be so difficult.

You are here now. Alive. Maybe you have cancer reading this or maybe you don't. But you are here now at this moment. Be aware of good things around, sometimes you must seek the good out. I encourage you my friends be with those you love. Visit those you love. Listen to those who speak to you-don't think about what you are going to say next-just listen. Be there for them.

Sit with your kids, walk with your kids, listen to your kids. Be patient and glad you are alive and present to wash the shirt you know they only wore for 30 minutes and is now at the bottom of the smelly laundry. Be glad you are there when they are taking 20 minutes to put on a those socks and shoes, be happy when they are making you late. You are there! It's just life - late will always be there but you won't. Be overjoyed when they ask "can you play with me?" Put the phone/tablet whatever away. To hell with the I have to clean, I have to finish this, I'm to busy...and run toward them, because that question is the best request you can get and the answer is so easy.

All good things,
Karen

Surviving Stage 4 Colon Cancer

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 19 Mar 2013 02:08:00 +0000

On April 7th 2007 one month shy of my 32nd birthday I was told I had stage 4 colon cancer. Multiple big, fat tumors in my liver. That was almost 6 years ago.

I have spent the better part of that 6 years with my mind on an automatic shutdown when I thought about even a month into my future. Couldn't see it, wouldn't see it, didn't want to see it-otherwise an all encompassing, consuming fear and terror would in-case me body, mind, spirit and soul. There I would freeze. My kids will grow up without me as their mother. They will experience heartache and anguish that will never fully heal. I remember crying into the phone to my best friend Nicole, as I read the scan report in my car-all I could see were the words "multiple malignancies" all over the pages, and I said to her through snot-covered, blubbering sobs "Ethan will never know me." I thought of Sydney as a teenager-when a girl would need her mother the most and my soul would shatter.

My diagnosis came and all of a sudden I noticed every funeral home, every cancer center, every commercial for cancer. Fran and I had these weirdo "we're kidding but we're not" conversations about should I be cremated and where will I be buried and you better make sure I look awesome in that casket. His burden as a father and husband only he can speak to during these difficult times, but I knew his burden was great.

No one could say to me that I was going to get better and that it would be okay. They would want to, as I would if the situation was reversed, but the fact was that I was not okay and I probably wasn't going to get to "okay."

I remember many difficult conversations Dr. Moriarty had to have with us about me and the let's say "difficult" situation I was in. I would get bratty and try and make him say that I would make it to 50-60-90 years old. Forcing him into a corner to say "no Karen from my experience, probably not."

I remember him telling me -as was his job and duty-just about 3 years ago or so "you might want to start thinking of having a different conversation with your kids." Me: (pretty deadpan and jaded at this point) about dying and stuff? Him: yeah

Now here we are my dear, loving supportive friends and family. Almost 6 years later. Thank you God I am still here. Thriving, joyful, and happy.

About 2 weeks ago I had my scans. Fran and I got the official lowdown at Dr. Moriarty's last week.

Did you know there is beauty in the word unremarkable? Spleen-unremarkable, ovaries-unremarkable, kidneys-unremarkable, liver...unremarkable. I also find the words, boring, normal and ordinary very beautiful. For me they mean not only life, but a quiet, calm life.

My scan showed that again there is no visible sign of disease. It was very unexciting and very boring (a thing of beauty). I heard it from my doctors, I read it on the report, okay-breathing, breathing, breathing.

There is a nodule on my lung that is very small (3mm). It hasn't shown up on the reports since 2009. But it was picked up during this scan. Did I freak-you better believe it. But Dr. Moriarty reassured us that it isn't new, it hasn't changed in 3 years and it is nothing to be concerned about.

I am still considered to be in remission. I almost want to whisper that word, to write it very, very tiny. I feel like if I say it in a normal voice or write it loud and proud the cancer cells that still skulk within me will hear and try to "get the gang" back together.

But yet I am grateful. Grateful to the depths of my core. When Ethan calls out for me in the night it is never lost on me how lucky I am that I can run into his room, hold his hand and reassure him everything is okay. Ethan says "can you stay with me mommy?" "Yes, yes, yes-my dear sweet boy."It brings tears to my eyes almost every time.

Or when Sydney is just so tired and had a long day and just wants to sit and hug and have a little cry, and I get to do that. I get to be her mommy and hug her and say "just need a bit of lovin and a bit of a cry Syd?" I will take that over any material thing in life. I just want, like all of us, life and to live. To raise my children and love them like a crazy person.

I am here today. I have been shown great immeasurable mercy. As I say in almost every blog-I don't know how or why I am still here but I am. I am learning to get rid of the survivors guilt. I am learning feeling guilty about living is an insult to our dear friends who are not here and produces and accomplishes nothing.

I am forever indebted to all of you and your prayers, love, friendship and support. Let us all keep praying for each other because we all need it. I continue to pray for all of you, those who I know and those who I don't. May God's mercy continue, and be with all those still suffering and fighting to be well.

Much Love,
Karen

I Love NED

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 04:33:00 +0000

Yes I am still here!! I haven't had any new scans but I wanted people to know that I am still here and doing very well. My CEA numbers are at a record low of 3.4 and seem to be holding steady.

I will be having my scan done sometime in March which would bring us to 6 months from last September. Needless to say I am anxious to see the outcome.

I have started back to work as a dental hygienist two days a week. Mentally I am loving it. Physically my body is not.
I am perplexed and still bewildered by how just working a couple of days a week gives my body a constant hum of muscle aches, sore throats, ear infections and extreme exhaustion. What the heck?

Will I take this over being dead? Yes. Would I take this over being in treatment for cancer? Yes. But I am still kind of walking around, looking around this new world without full blown cancer, ignoring its whispers in my ear, and trying to live my life.

I guess I am trying to see where I fit it in now. Not a complaint but an observation. I have been reading some survivorship blogs and it helps me realize I am not alone, or crazy and this is a very normal "journey" to be on. See I just never expected to get this far-and don't get me wrong-I am lovin it all day long.

But I think having cancer is kind of like being in prison (you think for your whole life) and then someone just lets you out. You go out into the regular world but you are a different person your body is a very different body. You don't know what you are supposed to be doing with yourself, or what you can do.

This is where I am at now. Just wondering if there are any other cancer survivors out there going through the same? I would love to hear from you.

I really hope this doesn't come off like I am complaining. Just communicating and sharing my thoughts.

I am hoping too buy labeling my blog titles NED and such people who are looking for stories of hope will find my blog and know that the impossible can happen. I am stunned every day, every day without fail that I am here. At some part of my day WHAM! It hits me like getting hit in the head with a very large and heavy frying pan. "You are alive right now girl-holy crap!" Then of course I say "thank you God." Then I say "sexy chocolate!" from the movie "Coming to America" cause it's so hilarious. True story.

I love you all my friends and family. Thank you for always supporting us and loving us. Please, lets keep praying for each other. We all need it.

Much love,
Karen

Still N.E.D.

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 24 Nov 2012 03:08:00 +0000

Happy Thanksgiving one day late! I hope everyone enjoyed the day with family and friends.

I should have posted this back at the end of September but, again, that procrastination problem I'm working on...

I had my scans toward the end of September and with all humility and joy I can tell you that they were clean. My internventional radiologist/SIR-sphere-inserter-doctor, doctor Nosher who has been reading all of my scans since my SIR-sphere procedure 2 years ago said he couldn't find "a single solitary thing." The report stated that no new lesions, or previous existing lesions were detected.

Speechless. I really don't know what to even write. There are no words to describe the gratitude for getting another chance at life. There are no words to adequately thank all those who have been praying their guts out for me, those who know me and haven't even met me.

What can I ever say to Dr. Moriarty, and all my doctors and nurses who have helped save my life?

To my family, friends, my children, my husband? These feelings of gratitude, humility and joy I have not been able to express with words, I hope I can express them, if God's mercy stays with me, in how I live the rest of my life.

Thank you for your continued prayers and love my friends.

All Great Things,
Karen

I want to dedicate my clean, healthy scans in honor of my father-in-law Frank Shanahan who past away this past October 4th. You are deeply loved, and deeply missed. Still waters run deep.

Summer Update

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 31 Aug 2012 02:13:00 +0000

Hello to all! It has been a long time since I posted, I know. But things have really been that quiet. They have been ordinary, mundane, nothin-doin. And that my friends, is a gift.

I'll go straight to the logistics. My CEA continues to hover around 4.5. It has been that way, for at least 10 months, I think. I haven't had any scans since my last one in March. Dr. Moriarty wanted to wait 6 months (first time in 5 years!) for the next one, as long as my blood work/CEA was normal. I begrudgingly agreed. I knew it was a positive thing, but I also found it very unnerving to wait so long. I almost felt like I was being a bit arrogant. Like "hey look at me I'm so way cool and better so I am totally waiting 6 months man!" But yet I waited and now September is upon us and wheels are in motion for setting up my scan appointment soon.
I have also been seeing Dr. Moriarty once a month still to get my port flushed and blood work done and to just meet and see how my health is faring.

In anniversary news, as of August 10th 2012, it has been 2 years since my last chemotherapy treatment. I have not had any chemotherapy treatment or Erbitux. Hopefully, if all goes well with my scans, October 26th of this year, it will have been 2 years since my SIR-spheres procedure, and my last procedure full stop.

Okay so this whole 5 year deal? The fact that I am alive, and thriving, and to this date, no clinically detectable cancer to speak of? Miracle, my dear friends. And I do not use this word lightly. Just two months ago, this past June, another friend of mine battling the same stage 4 cancer as I, passed away, she had to leave behind her 7 year old boy and her husband. She was 33 years old. Out of respect for her desire for privacy I won't give her name. I also don't speak of her for sympathy on my part. I speak of my lovely friend, because that should also be me, or she should also be me yes? Do you see?

Every morning when I wake up-BOOM-an amazing gift. But wait, it gets better, more amazing gifts to follow! Then I have two healthy happy children that I have the privilege of caring for and raising, and a husband who works so hard, and loves me BOOM! WAIT!! It gets even better!! I am not sick, I feel great, I can walk on my own two feet, take care of my self. BOOM! Make my kids something that resembles breakfast, sit and watch cartoons with them (with my coffee of course)- BOOM, BOOM, KABOOM! Pure, pure, pure gift, upon gift upon gift of life. And that's just my morning my friends.

Every day, every single day, I marvel and I am deeply grateful that I am alive. Because I really shouldn't be. That will never escape me, nor leave me. If it ever does I should be slapped...hard.

Each day that I open my eyes, is a great day. I don't think I am really able to even say "I had a bad day today." What? No way. It may be a stressful day. It may be a sad day. It may be a difficult day. But I am in that day present and accounted for. It is a most precious gift that I don't take for granted. When we are out with the kids, or the kids and I are outside blowing bubbles or something, I am thinking and feeling that I cannot believe I am getting to do this! That emotion pours in, resonates and flows through my whole body and I am deeply, deeply grateful and very humbled. This happens every day with me.

I know tomorrow is not promised. I knew about it before, but now I have lived it and I am still living it. Cancer is always lurking back there. I try not to pay it much mind, but yes with scan time, comes the "scanxiety" but to think about that now would be wasting time, not living in the present, not focusing on being able to write to all you amazing people who have prayed, supported, loved and cheered my family on these last 5 years. I selfishly ask please don't stop praying!

I have had the privilege of speaking with a lot of different people out there who most specifically have stage 4 colon cancer. I know I don't have a lot going on, but I will continue with the blog because people need to know that there is hope. There is a place in all of the dark world of cancer where people can get to wellness. I don't just mean myself. There are many others out there. If there is anyone new to this blog there is a great calendar out there called the Colondar. It has 12 different stage 4 colon cancer survivors featured on it. They are all young people diagnosed with colon cancer at a very young age such as myself. On the cover is a woman who is an 11year stage 4 cc survivor! Go to www.colonclub.com and the calendar is featured there. It is an amazing source of hope. If you know of someone who may find this helpful please pass it along.

Once my scans are done and all is known I will post the info. Please pray all is clear. Thank you ahead of time.

Thank you all again for your unfailing love and support to our family. We thank you for it and are very grateful to be so blessed. Let's continue to pray for one another, and live fully in the present.

Much love,
Karen

All Good Things

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 06 May 2012 03:37:00 +0000

Hello my dear friends and family! I know, it's been over 4 months-whatsa matta wit me? Well ironically, the answer is nothing!!
Like I have mentioned in the past if things are going well then I usually don't have much to report. So here I sit writing to you all feeling very lucky indeed.

I'll start by saying that I met with Dr. Moriarty at the end of February for my monthly check-up and bloodwork. I was sitting in my kitchen waiting to hear from Kathy with my CEA numbers and instead I heard from Dr. Moriarty. Now as you all know I love Dr. Moriarty, but when your oncologist calls you at home-it usually ain't so good. So as my stomach was churning I asked Dr. M "hi...why are you calling me?" (insert nervous laugh here)

Dr. M. said that my CEA was slightly elevated and though he wasn't overly worried or "freaked out" (he tries to use my language) he didn't like the trend. Now mind you it had only gone up a point in a half or so. But when my tumors "act-up" the CEA is usually consistent with that. The last time my CEA started to rise is when my cancer resurfaced after the liver resection.

I was due for scans in about 3 weeks. Waiting that long for scans and results in cancer-time is about...hmm...lets say a year! Add on possibility of new cancer whatever...that's 2 years!! For the first 5 seconds I was like "okay no biggie, it didn't go up that much." That lasted for all of 5 seconds, then I fell to pieces.

For the next 3 weeks I was a mess. I stopped working out, watched a lot of t.v. and sat and stared a lot. I don't like to admit it but I was pretty depressed.

It's not that I am scared of, or worried about treatment. For me, with stage 4 cancer, I just skip over all that and think, "okay is this where I die now?" I hate to be morbid, but this is a cancer blog, and it's how my mind works. That's what rots about cancer. I think especially stage 3 or 4. There isn't anything that anyone can give you or treat you with that can garauntee you get better (and I say this with all the love in my heart, but please don't suggest alternative medicine or diets to me...please). You can do this and that and just cross your fingers and pray it works, and if it doesn't work and your tumors aren't under control you die. So when I say I just skip to the end, that's what I mean. And that what makes your head spin, and takes you into dark places in your mind that your are REALLY tired of going to.

Then I'm thinking, well maybe I just need more chemo or whatever, and guess what? Then I get to watch my children and husband suffer while I walk around like a warmed over corpse. Yippeee!! (heavy on the sarcasm here) Like I said-wasn't feeling so "positive."

So I had my scans on Monday the 20th of March and saw Dr. Moriarty that Wednesday. The report had not come in yet. That means no report-no info-no knowledge this equals Karen having a mental breakdown. I thought my whole body was going to crack in half. As if I was a statue and someone took a chisel at the top of my head, slammed it down and I split right down the middle.

Fortunatley I had the CD with the scan on it so Dr. Moriarty was able to review it with Fran and I. He sat with us for at least 20-30 minutes going over it with us. He felt that barring anything the interventional radiologist Dr. Nosher saw, he didn't see anything outstanding.

In addition, my CEA numbers also went back down. Okay, starting to breathe. The top of my shoulders which had been fused with stress to the bottom of my jawbone for the last 3 weeks started to loosen up a bit. For me though, I NEEDED THAT REPORT!!! I know that anyone with cancer reading this knows where I am coming from. That Friday, the lovely Kathy called me. I was in the food store.

Kathy said the they had the report and on the report it was stated "no evidence of disease." You see, that was in the actual report. Kathy told me she had to read it over a few times to make sure that's what it said before she called me. I was shaking like a leaf and my knees felt like jelly.

Now I have been lucky for months now. My scans for the past year have been very good. The reports have stated, "continuous improvement," "no new growth." That in itself is incredible news.
But for it to say no evidence of disease??? It's winning a billion dollars (tax free) in the lottery except exponentially far better.

Now after reading the last post in December one might say "yes well you were already NED right?" But the last report stated in general terms things look good. But there wasn't any mention that there was no evidence of disease. That has never been in a report of mine-not ever.

To put it in even greater perspective, I have not had chemo since August of 2010. I have not had a procedure done or treatment of any kind since October of 2010. For nothing to grow in that time...to me, its astounding. I am lucky, blessed, and cannot even begin to articulate the depths of my gratitude.

Every day I am grateful. I am grateful each morning when I get up. I am grateful when the laundry room is overflowing with laundry, I am grateful when one of the kids is giving a passionate speech about how homework is mean for kids to do and they will never ever get it done. I am grateful for cleaning the bathroom toilets. I am grateful for every mundane, ordinary thing in life, because guess what, I am alive to live it.

You see I am here. Everyday that I get to wake up and be present in my life is a gift. I am not planning to travel the world, climb Mount Everest, or jump out of a plane. I just want a beautiful, sweet, ordinary life growing up and growing old with my family. I am very blessed to be given that chance right now. I don't know how long the cancer will stay away, a few months, a few years, who knows? But right now I have been given a rare gift in the stage 4 cancer world of being quasi well.

I do have survivor guilt and getting-well guilt for sure. And at times it gives me pause, and I debate wether to publish the next blog post. But that's really just me thinking about what other people would think of me and has nothing to do with helping and informing people, which is supposed to be the point of this blog. So I digress...

Deeply, deeply I thank you for all the prayers, years and years have past, and people still come up to me with the greatest compassion in their eyes and tell me that they are still praying for me. Woah. Blows me away and I humbly thank you . I do continue to pray for all those suffering and all those who I know and don't know who pray for me, so hopefully, the power of many...

Again thank you everyone. Thank you. Lets continue to pray for each other. We all need Jesus in our lives. I don't think it means we always feel like we want to. But for myself when I try to do it on my own, I end up in a muddled mess.

Thank you for all the support for reading this blog. Take care of your health. Get your mammograms, get your colonosopies, if its scary-so what. That just means its something that's scary. It's just an emotion and won't hurt you. But not doing these tests can also kill you. Live in the present, prevent illness where you can, and pray.

Much love to you all,
Karen

Finally an Update

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 03:27:00 +0000

Hello my friends. I apologize for the great lack of updating. But in my case if I'm not updating it's because things are going well and there isn't much to report cancer-wise.

Things have been going great, I am thankful and happy to say. I had my scans mid-November and Fran and I met with Dr. Moriarty the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Since my previous 3 scans, and blood work had been good, I picked off a tiny little chunk out of the I-think-this-scan-will-be-okay-too mountain that has previously been completely untouched.

Dr. Moriarty came in and told us that the scans were good, "phew." He said that as a matter of fact Dr. Nosher who did my SIR-spheres procedure in October of 2010 and has also been doing my scans up until this point, felt that I could wait another 6 months before my next one. "Well" I said, that's a bit nuts, we're not waiting that long. And anyway that's for people who don't have cancer or whatever." To which Dr. Moriarty said in his always very calm demeanor "Well, Karen I can't really say that I can classify you as someone who clinically has any signs of cancer."

"Say, say, say what now!?"

So then I start crying and wringing my fingers so hard I think I am going to tear them straight off. Fran and I were both totally bewildered and I said to Dr. Moriarty "what the heck are you talking about?"

So in a nutshell the report from the PET/CT scan said that it didn't pick up any metabolic activity from any tumor (from the PET) and from CT didn't show any malignancies either. So basically "they couldn't see nothin."

What does this all mean? I didn't update the blog immediately because even though this news is better than miraculously great, it has taken me awhile to process. I think I am still processing and digesting all of this. When Dr. Moriarty was explaining all of this to us, I was truthfully just as shocked as I was when I was told I had cancer.

Right now the doctors don't see any visible signs of cancer in me or on my person. I guess I can be classified as N.E.D. that means (no evidence of disease). That's a sweet phrase and though this is an understatement I am deeply, deeply grateful. The most I was hoping for last year was a long break from chemo. Maybe like 6 months.
So this is a crazy miracle and I am all over it. I am so very grateful to be alive.

For people wondering, (because I know I was, and riddled Dr. Moriarty with a barrage of question my own self), the cancer can come back at any time.

But life right now is good, and right now is sweet. I am trying to just sit back and take into account all that I have been given, and wonder why I have been given it. Then I try not to wonder why and just enjoy my life. But cancer has taken 3 very dear friends of ours this year who went to the ends of the earth to be rid of cancer, heck just to have the damn tumors shrunk. They were young, strong, determined and loved life. They had children, had people who loved them deeply and are missing them so much now. Julia, Jessica, and Adam. Please pray for them and their families during this time of year that is so hard. Especially for their young children. It is because of these amazing people, and friends who are still battling, falling down and picking themselves back up over and over and over again, that I can't help but wonder about where I am at.

Thank you, every single one of you for your prayers, for lighting candles, for your emails, letters, messages and loving support.

Let's keep praying for each other.

Much Love,
Karen

Wow...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 19 Aug 2011 01:47:00 +0000

Hello my friends. Well here it is. I had my 3 month scan done on August 11th. Saw my life-saving Dr. Moriarty on August 16th.

God blows you away with the bad in life, and then blows you away with the incredibly great!! My scan stated that in regards to my liver tumor it showed "continued improvement," and "minimal activity," oh and then there is my favorite "no new evidence of disease." Uh, yuh-huh, that's what I said too. But after being wound up tighter than anything, convinced the my lucky streak was due to be over, it took a day or two for the news to actually sink in.

This has been the best summer of my life, and after this past Tuesday, the happiest I have EVER been in my life. Since Tuesday I keep thinking back, back and back to when I met Dr. Moriarty. My body was dying then. I have thought about this a lot. I didn't realize it too much at the time, but over the last few years, how I had been internally physically feeling, how sick I was, yes, my body was dying. That is why right now at this minute I feel sheer, pure, happiness.

I have been off of chemo for a solid year (which adds to this miracle). I can feel life, taste life, like you can feel the moisture in the air on a humid day. When I go for walks lately sometimes I just stop, let the sun hit me and breathe in nice and deep, because I can, and nothing hurts, or aches, or burns.

Why I am still here, I do not know. I am genuinely stupefied. Why my body has responded to treatment well, yet no so well in my dear friends who have passed, I do not know. But I know I am very lucky, very grateful, and very humbled.

I have stage 4 colon cancer. I welcome the miracle along with the absurdity of being cured. That's easy to want, effortless even, but hard to come by. But I revel even in this, that still having cancer, I can live my life unimpeded. Striving to be a better person today than I was yesterday, because each day I wake up I feel like God swoops down and hands me this crystal clear, beautiful present. I open it each morning and inside is today. I say to Him "thank you God for the gift of life today."

Deeply, deeply I thank you for all your prayers and support, love and friendship. I am so grateful to you all. And to Dr. Moriarty, my coach, my healer, my friend thank you for getting me so very far. I am forever indebted to you.

Much love,
Karen

Holding Steady

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 20 May 2011 01:32:00 +0000

Wow. I haven't updated in so long, sorry about that. Things are good my friends. I had my 3 month scan check/deal at the beginning of May. I had a pet/ct. The tumor in my liver has not grown, and according to the pet showed minimal activity and there is no new growth elsewhere. Great news.

I feel like every three months, I keep sneaking by, by the skin of my teeth. I know that I am a very, very lucky girl (what? I'm only 36). So anyway, Unless something unexpected arises, which can always happen with cancer, I will be able to fully enjoy and be present with my family this summer for the first summer in 4 years. There won't be any treatment, no chemo, no erbitux - nothin. Thats-a-nice-a eh?

These last 6 months have been the most peaceful and calm we have had since being diagnosed, and though I don't know how long it will last, it has been very welcome and has helped our family regroup and take a breath.

There is not much else to report. But I would be remiss if I didn't mention a few people. Life ends, life begins.

Our lovely friend Adam Krystian Beldycki, was diagnosed a year before myself in 2006 and was a year older than myself. Fran had reached out to him at the time of my diagnosis as we grappled, scratched, and clawed, looking for someone to give us hope, and direction, and advice. Adam reached back. He was a friend to me, to us.
I thought that if anyone would kick the crap out of this disease it would be my friend. Full of life, kindness, and intelligence. Adam passsed away on April 10th 2011. I extend my sympathies and condolences to his family and friends who have suffered a great loss.
Adam, you are missed my friend. Thank you for being a friend to me and to Fran.

On that same turn a new life is beginning. My younger sister Cynthia and her husband Brad are expecting their first baby in October. This is of course amazing and joyful news and we are so happy for them. I am grateful that, for a change, our family can focus on something that is pure joy and goodness. Congratulations Cynthia and Brad!

Thank you all for your never ending support, love, and prayers. They mean the world to me. They really do. Thank you deeply, from the bottom of my heart. Let's all keep praying for each other!

Love,
Karen

Great News!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 05 Feb 2011 14:45:00 +0000

Well I mixed up the appointment with Dr. Moriarty, and wasn't supposed to see him until next week ahhhhh! But I was able to talk to Dr. Nosher's office and he called me back to go over the report with me.

I said the tumor showed "marked improvement, with very minimal metabolic activity. And there is no new growth." And along with that I had gotten news earlier in the week that my CEA was 5!!!!!!

What does this mean? It means the tumor is dying. The last pet scan we did 3 months ago it, in Dr. Nosher's words, "lit up like a Christmas tree." That basically means there was a lot of metabolic activity and the stinkin' thing was alive and well. Now there was very minimal glowing. Dr. Nosher was very happy and spoke to Dr. Moriarty and HE was very happy. And they are excited about the results.

We are reeling with happiness, and joy, and are so grateful to God and all who have been praying for us to make this possible. Thank you so much.

I will see Dr. Moriarty next week and discuss this all to a greater extent but we are floating on a cloud, and just reveling in the great news.

We are now off to celebrate my big sister's 40th birthday today. What an awesome day!!

Love, love, love,
Karen

... These Go To 11

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 17 Jan 2011 04:00:00 +0000

The title there is a little homage to any Spinal Tap fans out there. Such a hilarious movie, I highly recommend it.

Spinal Tap clip to give a chuckle

It is also a bit of a clue into some great news I've been keeping close to the vest over the last few weeks. My recent CEA has come in at, you guessed it, 11!

My previous number before the sir-spheres procedure was around 160. Then it went to 180 then to 227. Then Kathy called me about 2 months ago to tell me it was 51! I said to her "can you repeat that?" I genuinely thought she must have said 151, but she said, "five, one." I was elated. That was the first drop we had seen in my CEA since October of 2009. Then she called about a month later and said we were at 11! Well, it is actually 11.7 but I figure I'm not in school anymore so I don't have to round up, do I?

So this news is very encouraging. Numbers dropping indicate the tumor is dying. I have a pet/ct scan scheduled for February 2nd (happy bday Jen) and will meet with Dr. Moriarty on the 4th. I am optimistic and hopeful, but I have to add I am cautious as well.

I don't really know what to expect to happen after this. Nobody knows. This isn't a cancer where doctors tell you it's "very treatable" and "we expect you'll do well."

Now in all fairness Dr. Moriarty doesn't tell me the opposite of that but at the end of the day it's a stage 4 cancer. It's very easy and good to hear/get good news, good results. I don't, have to prepare myself for that, or the miracle we are all praying for. But I do have a parallel line running through my head right next to hope and faith that says "just prepare and brace for a long future with this or for things to turn the wrong way."

I think that's normal right? What more can I do?

I guess what I am driving at is that if we have the scans and the tumor is dead, or gone, then there will be no words to describe that joy. However, it doesn't mean it's gone for good. Having the recurrence post surgery keeps me grounded in that reality.

But at the end of the day my life is good. I haven't been on any chemo since mid-August, and let me tell you that is NICE! That can change too at any moment but Dr. Moriarty is trying to hold that at bay, while killing this thing with more local treatments if he can and if he thinks it's the best treatment to do so.

Thank you all for your continued prayers and support. They mean SO much to me. And please let's continue to pray for those who continue to get diagnosed everyday. The shock is mind-numbing. We recently had a friend diagnosed with breast cancer,and within weeks she has had a double mastectomy and now after recovery faces chemo and radiation. Please keep her and her family in your prayers.

I really do continue to pray for all who pray for me especially those who are going through cancer, and keep me so strong by their examples of bravery, good humor, and faith. Faith can be a toughie and I admit that I have been flailing a bit over the last year with it all. But for me at the end of the day, it is Jesus who keeps me calm when I am terrified, brings me comfort when I feel alone, and I know when you feel stripped of it all, I know He is there, and He brings me hope.

I think I have mentioned I hate cancer, I hate having it, and I hate it for everyone else who has it. But life is here in my face saying "live me girl!" And I say back to life "will do...word!"

Love,
Karen

Post-Turkey Day Update

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 01 Dec 2010 03:22:00 +0000

Happy belated Thanksgiving to all, which includes my Irish family - I ate for you as well! I hope everyone had a peaceful and happy holiday.

I don't have any news that is make or break. I won't have a scan done until the end of January/beginning of February. If they did a scan now the Dr's wouldn't really be able to differentiate between what is inflammation, tumor, dead tumor, or scar tissue. So we wait. We wait until the inflammation and all settles down. I go to Robert Wood Johnson (rwj) hospital every 2 weeks for blood work, and follow up stuffthen I'll go once a month then every 2 etc. I also of course, continue to see Dr. Moriarty every two weeks so I can ask him if I can be done with cancer now, because it is like really, really, totally, like totally, totally lame...poor guy - I always ask impossible questions.

Before and up until Thanksgiving I was feeling pretty crappy. I felt like I had the flu, with muscle-aches, headaches, and a raging fever (but I didn't have a fever). Dr. M. said it was radiation poisoning, which almost sounds redundant to me. I thought he was kidding. I asked him if he was, but he said it is actually a real thing. However thanks to Fran who was home from wed. before Thanksgiving until the Monday and I was able to get a lot of rest (thank you dear) and I have been feeling much better. It really can't compare to being on chemo but I just want to put the info out there for anyone interested.

I am kind of glad that we have to wait for scans. Dr. M. says he isn't putting me back on chemo until we know what the deal is and so in the interim, we are having what I would call a "quiet section." I say quiet section because as my fellow cancer com padres know, or anyone who is close to cancer knows, your life kind of moves in 3 months increments. That's how it feels to me anyway. So right now we are having a quiet 3 month section. I know that the tumor is dying (supposed to be anyway) so there is not much more I can do right now but let that happen.

Thank you everyone for all your support, prayers, emails, messages, hugs, smiles, friendship and love. I am so humbled and awed that after almost 4 years the support and love that our family has received is as strong if not stronger than ever. I genuinely find myself taken aback at how much people do for us and continue to do for our family many who I don't even know. People just give of themselves wanting nothing in return - amazing. For my kids, my husband and myself I say "thank you.

People are amazing, and you all really humble me to be a better friend, a better person because of all of your support. I hope I can support and love people the way myself and my family have been loved, and supported.

Again, thank you and let's keep praying for each other eh?

Love,
Karen

Still Glowing

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 01:18:00 +0000

So as Fran mentioned the sir-sphere procedure went well. Dr. Nosher told me that the scan they took immediately following the procedure showed the intense uptake of the spheres in the tumor. That's great news. Now we just sit and wait.

I am doing fine. Could feel better could feel worse. I came home from Chris and Kate's a bit early cause I just couldn't take being away from the kids any longer, though it was hard to leave a place where you are waited on hand and foot and with so much love. It was also great to hang out with Chris and Kate which is something I don't get to do very often. Thank you guys (and Steve and Gio) for sharing your home and taking such good care of me.

In the interest of any other readers who might be getting this procedure, or are just curious, the recovery isn't that bad. Though I have decided today that I hate physical recovery in all forms it's annoying and always takes longer than you think and so on, and so on, complain, complain, complain. The biggest thing is I have very low energy and no appetite. I feel kind of nauseous but I think that's because of my appetite being off.

Anyway that's about it. Fran took great care of the kids, doing all their school stuff and keeping them happy and comforted. Thanks to all our family and friends for your support. We really appreciate it and it helps us more than you can ever know.

Love,
Karen

SIR Spheres Radiation

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 27 Oct 2010 02:50:00 +0000

Karen's doing well. Just a brief note by way of update: Karen spent the day in Robert Wood Johnson receiving the radiation portion of her SIR Spheres treatment. She is recuperating, very nauseous and utterly exhausted.

Her CEA was measured, it was 189 for those keeping track and will be monitored in the coming months to determine how effective the treatment has been.

She'll spend the week with Chris and Kate to avoid giving the kids a permanent sun tan if you know what I mean. Daddy daycare is fully operational although classes are full and we are not accepting new applicants.

SIR Spheres Embolization

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 14:47:00 +0000

Karen's doing well. She's in the hospital at Robert Wood Johnson getting a scheduled procedure done currently and I'm headed there soon. She asked to update the blog so here goes.

Today is step one in her radiation treatment. There are two steps. Today (now) Doctor Nosher at Robert Wood Johnson is blocking off certain pathways within her liver's blood stream. This will allow the radiation treatment (scheduled for next Tuesday 26th) to flow to the tumor within her liver.

She left early this morning and is expected home this evening. I got the kids off to school, ran a few errands and am headed there now.

UPDATE: karen's done and all went fine, she has to lay flat on her back for the next 6hours or so. Will be home tonight.

Scan News - Not Great, Not Terrible

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 01:04:00 +0000

Greetings ya'll! I hope everyone is enjoying the end of their summers.

I had an MRI done on Monday to see the progress of the last 5 months of treatment and Fran and I met with Dr. Moriarty this morning. The tumor is, of course, still there in my liver. It did grow but not by much.

My last scan was March 18th 2010, but that was post cryoablation and there was still inflammation and swelling so the measurement of that tumor would not be accurate. So since last Oct/Nov the tumor was 1.6 by 1.3 cm., and this measurement was 2.9 by 1.9 cm. There was no new growth found in my liver or elsewhere. The MRI didn't scan my lungs and I am very paranoid about having tumors there, so I asked Dr. Moriarty about that and about getting a CT scan done. He said he doesn't and isn't very concerned that there is tumor growth but he has scheduled one for me regardless.

He also wants to take a different treatment plan approach. It is called SIR-spheres, or (SIRT-spheres) and is another targeted, localized therapy like ablation but it involves radiation without damaging healthy liver tissue.

Dr. Moriarty wants us to see a Dr. John Nosher out of Robert Wood Johnson in New Brunswick, so we will be setting that stuff up over the next week or so. Since we are looking at a different treatment option path I get a bit of a break from chemo and erbitux Hurrrrrayyyy!!! That made me very happy to hear, part of me didn't care what the reason was, I am just so happy to get a break, give my family a break, and be able to focus on getting Sydney settled into first grade, and Ethan into his last year in preschool, or rather pre-k (just to be official).

The reason(s) Moriarty is changing things up, is, to my understanding,

because the spheres work by flowing through the blood vessels feeding the tumor - and a major one (the inferior vena cava or IVC) is. I am a good candidate for this procedure,
it gives my mind and body a break from chemo, and if it's successful will give me more time with a hopefully dead tumor until some new treatment comes down the pike.

I do have chemo options (thank God), but this is just another treatment we can use to get this tumor defunct.

So it's kind of a mixed bag of emotions. At the end of the day it still rots to have cancer. But I am grateful that being someone that has stage 4 CC, has it in one localized area and that in the past year it hasn't grown much or anywhere else due to the different treatments I have been able to get.

I am also very grateful to have Dr. Moriarty as my oncologist. He has never been idle in treating me and this stupid disease. I know I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him.

When we get the full picture of what's going on next I will definitely be updating. I hope everyone had a great summer. We had an awesome time going camping, going to Texas and we just returned from an amazing time in Topsail, North Carolina playing on the beach everyday. The summer went by so fast, but I am looking forward to the fall and some cooler weather, and seeing what the next few months hold for us.

God Bless.

Love,
Karen

Happy August

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 13:39:00 +0000

This is just a quick posting. I know I had mentioned previously that I would be having scans this week, but we are going to be waiting until the beginning of September.

We are just going to try and get another chemo tx in before and I think that's why, but I'm fine with it either way.

I really want to thank everyone for their encouraging comments and emails, and everything. Again I hesitate to mentioned individuals in the blog because then I start the avalanche of leaving people out and I can't take that!!!!!

Let's keep praying for each other, even when our prayers feel like vapor, they are heard. I think that's when God hears them most piercingly - when we can barely formulate the words. Life is hard enough without prayer.

Enjoy your minute, enjoy your hour, enjoy your day, find peace.

Love,
Karen