Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Cancer”

My Qualifications


I am going to need to offer a bit of a warning to this post.  What you are going to read will be quite shocking, maybe even quite overwhelming.  In upcoming posts, I will be finally getting to the most important post I have ever written.  But before I can do that, I want to disclose to you, just how qualified I am to discuss these things, what drives me.

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This is what I allow everyone to see.  I have my reasons.  The first, I do not want pity.  I want to lead a normal and healthy life, just like so many others who have been blessed with perfect health.  I do not want to be helped to do simple things.  The second reason, unless you are a fellow cancer survivor yourself, the things that I am dealing with, the health risks that I face, the uncertainties, can be overwhelming.  Many of those close to me have not been able to accept the late effects that I deal with, and some have simply given up on me because they do not want to hear about the next medical events as they come up.

But as the expression goes, about the book and the cover, I am choosing now to open the book.  As I said, what you are about to read, it is going to be difficult.  While many consider surviving cancer to be a good thing, and I do consider surviving cancer, especially as long as I have, a good thing.  But my survival has come at a price.  And as you will see, and I am sure you would hope, diagnostics, treatments, and risks, still have such a long way to go.  I am planning on publishing the next post on what I hope will serve each and every reader of “Paul’s Heart” to be the advocate that each patient needs to be for themselves, so that survival has a chance to be more tolerable.

And with that, here are my qualifications to speak as an advocate for better diagnostics, treatments, and follow up care for all cancer patients and survivors.

The Heart

It was April of 2008, when I first discovered that for 17 years, my body was developing side effects from diagnostics and treatments given to me for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  I needed to have emergency heart bypass surgery due to radiation damage to the main artery going to my heart.  Following that surgery, it was also discovered that I have valve issues with two of my valves from both radiation and chemotherapy.  However, because of risks from the surgery, any corrections of these valves must wait, until the risks of the condition itself, become worse than the surgery to correct them.  Simply put, a ticking time bomb.  And if that were not enough, many of the survivors that I have known over the years, who have had this surgery, have survived that surgery, only to suddenly succumb to unsuspecting infections.  I am hoping that by my knowing this risk, should the situation arise, I can convince those with my care of the precautions that need to be taken.

The Lungs

Damage from radiation and chemotherapies has resulted in the loss of the lower lobe in my left lung, leaving my lung capacity at a measured 76%.  I also have spots on my left lung that are followed up every other year, to watch for growth in the event that they become cancerous.  These spots are unknown, but known that they are growing.

A combination of cardiac and pulmonary, I deal with shortness of breath, labored breathing, with any severe weather like humidity and cold.  Any walk with even the slightest of incline or steps can leave me struggling for breath.

Carotids

Both of my carotid arteries are narrowed from radiation damage.  Another issue that is monitored until it becomes bad enough to do anything about, the risk of stroke form the surgery itself will only be considered once the risk of stroke from the narrowing of the carotids is greater.

Spine

Chemotherapy has resulted in me developing osteopenia, meaning that my bones are at a higher risk of fracture.  Along with facet joint arthritis, both conditions exist in my lower spine resulting in pain I deal with on a daily basis.  There is also quite a bit of discomfort in my hips.

Muscle Damage

I have been diagnosed with Radiation Fibrosis Syndrome.  I have lost so much muscle mass in my upper torso, it is visible to even non-medical personnel.  Flexibility and mobility have both been lost.  I am at a higher risk of muscle tears.  I am not able to lift my arms above my shoulders.

And because of the muscle loss in the back of my neck, my head pulls forward from the remaining muscles in the front of my neck.  This is referred to quite common-like, “drooping head” syndrome, because the appearance is obvious, the head droops forward.  I have spent years training my neck to keep my head lifted up.  Yes, everything courtesy of radiation damage.

Thyroid Issues

Yet another result from radiation damage, my thyroid has been reduced to a shriveled misshapen organ, basically shut down.  I take a prescription to keep it functioning properly, but that does not prevent the many cysts that develop each year.  So far, the cysts have been benign, but due to the risk of developing thyroid cancer, one of the cysts actually required a biopsy.

Loss of My Spleen

As part of my diagnostics, my spleen was removed.  Making perfect sense as Hodgkin’s being a cancer of the immune system, often times, the spleen is involved, as was my case.  However, at one time, it was believed that we could live without the spleen, turns out medicine was wrong.  And because of that, not only is my ability to survive a cardiac event compromised, I can also not defend myself against common illnesses such as the flu, pneumonia, strep throat, chicken pox, and more.  I cannot even be around anyone receiving “live” vaccines for this reason.

Esophageal

Radiation damage has resulted in several issues with my esophagus.  The most physically obvious, is difficulty swallowing.  This gets somewhat relieved following my annual endoscopy, only to return.  The I have something called a Venker’s diverticulum.  It is a flap in my weakened esophagus that traps particles of food, which decay, and get inhaled into my lungs.  This has resulted in two cases of aspiration pneumonia, with one case reaching septic levels.  And then there is the diagnosis of “Barrett’s Esophagus”, which leads to an increased risk of developing esophageal cancer.  Combined with severe reflux, and these risks are quite high.

Miscellaneous

There are minor, “lol”, if you want to call them minor, at least in comparison to all the big things I deal with, chemotherapy left me sterile.  There is some hair that never grew back from radiation damage.  And I have a frequent issue with unexplained bleeding.

Emotional

I battle “Survivor’s Guilt”.  That’s right, guilt for surviving cancer, for surviving my late effect issues.  Wondering and waiting for the next shoe to drop.  Fortunately, because I am an advocate for my own care, I am not afraid to challenge a doctor to order a certain test, explain to me in detail every aspect of my care.

My issues cannot be reversed, only managed.  And that is how I survive.  So now you know what I deal with each and every day.  Now you know why it is difficult as I say farewell to another long term survivor.  This is why I struggle with news of patients not being properly followed up and also passing away.

So now, I am closing the book again.  And as long as I can help it, you will still only see the cover.  But that does not change what is written in the pages inside.  I must take care every day to prevent exposure.  I must make sure that I do not physically stress  my body to cause any kind of injury with my increased risk.  But that is a burden I place on myself, no one else.

But like the post I wrote about the classes of survivors, this is why I consider myself in the third class.

Up next, the project that I have been working on for several months.  The post is coming up next.

A Survivor’s Response… In Her Own Words


In my last post, I wrote about “classes” of cancer survivorship.  A fellow survivor wrote a response on one of our Facebook pages, and I asked her if it would be alright if I posted her response on my blog.

Like me, Judy D’Antonio is a long term cancer survivor.  But whereas I consider myself in the 3rd classification of survivorship, Judy considers herself in the 4th and most extreme classification.  And Judy is not alone.  In fact, I know many others, including like the friend who just passed away recently inspiring my last post.

So without any further commentary, here is Judy D’Antonio’s response to my previous post, in her own words.

“This is a great description of the various stages of survivorship. I was a bit distressed to realize I was in the last group of survivorship, having endured so many of the late effects (3 subsequent cancers, being dependent on oxygen and an AVAPS machine at night due to lungs that no longer are able to rid my body of deadly carbon dioxide plus numerous other late effects )

I still keep fighting though. As hard as it is I still keep fighting. I sometimes wonder what the future holds and how many good years I have left. I’ve been told by various pulmonary doctors that I’ll eventually need to use my AVAPS machine 24/7 due to my lungs inability to work properly. Do I really want to be connected 247 to a full face mask and a machine that breathes for me? I’m near the highest level on my machine and they have suggested I seriously consider having a tracheostomy if my lungs get much worse. But when does it get to be too much?

Already I feel resentful that so many things have been taken away from me. Things that most people take for granted such as being able to swallow their food without choking. Resentful that my body no longer is able to maintain a healthy weight and I must hook myself up every night to a feeding bag through my G tube to provide nutrition. (going to the bathroom at night is a challenge with all these machines to unhook!)

When do you cry uncle and just say that there has to be some quality of life? I worry about this because one of my biggest fears is being incapable of taking care of myself and being dependent on others for my basic needs ( my greatest nightmare happened when I stopped breathing when I was hospitalized and had to be put on a ventilator for several days)

So for now I’m continuing to fight because I still have the energy to, but when it gets to be to much I know I’ll be ok with letting go.”

Judy D’Antonio

The Classes Of Survivorship


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As an advocate of cancer patients and survivors, I have met so many people over the years who have beaten cancer and moved on with their lives with only having to deal with follow-up visits.  But there are also many people that I have met who have had to deal with late developing side effects from the treatments that saved their lives, only to struggle with these new physiological issues.  Sadly, whether because of ignorance of medicine to recognize these health issues, or the body simply not able to handle any more trauma, survivors who have come into my life, pass away.

It does not get any easier, as yet another survivor dies.  It does not matter the circumstances.  In dealing with my own late term survivor issues, with the announcement of a fellow survivor passing away, it is a brutal reminder just how delicate not only my life is, but as I am certain, my fellow survivors will echo the same.

For those who are fortunate enough to not only have never dealt with survivorship issues, or even a cancer diagnosis, it is impossible for you to truly grasp that we cannot “just move on” with our lives.  But as I mourn yet another survivor, and how she lived her life, I began to think about the topic of this post.  Just as there is staging in a cancer diagnosis, if it has not been done yet, then I think survivorship should be staged, or classified as well.

The first classification I would give, would be to those who finish their treatments, and other than their follow up appointments, which coincidently will continue for the rest of their lives thanks to survivors like me who proved that surveillance must be done to stay ahead of any developing late side effects, will get to go on through the rest of their lives without a care in the world.  Their magical 5 year mark will come and go.  For the majority of patients, according to statistics provided by various resources, they will not have to deal with any late side effects because they do not have any.

The next classification of survivors are those who are done with treatments, continue to be followed up, but as time goes on, develop health issues that cannot be explained.  Mysterious maladies and complaints that cannot be diagnosed simply because the experience and education of the treating physician just is not current.  The medical professionals unaware of, or worse yet, unwilling to recognize the late developing side effects from diagnostic procedures, and chemo and radiation therapies, leave patients frustrated, scared, and hopeless.  Many of these patients succumb to a treatment related side effect, and no one ever suspected or diagnosed it.  They also do not even live near or have access to the limited cancer survivorship clinics that specialize in dealing with late effects.

I would place myself in the third classification.  I am aware of my late issues of which I have many.  Although I currently do not have access to my doctors, when I am able to see them, I am subjected to annual testing and procedures to see how far my irreversible and progressive issues have gotten.  But as I  found out with my emergency heart surgery, without awareness and being a strong self-advocate, I would be dead.  But this has been a Pandora’s Box because with the knowledge of my late effect issues (cardiac, pulmonary, muscular, spinal, gastrointestinal, endocrine, urinary, immunological… there are more but you get my point), I cannot turn off the concerns for my mortality.  Because of the increased risks, most of my issues can only be managed, meaning, I have to tolerate the pains, the discomforts, and do my best to prevent the inevitable.  Oh and yes, it is managed only until the issues become bad enough that the risks of correcting are less than the risk of the progression of the issue.  To give you an example, my carotids are fried from radiation damage.  But the risk of correcting them, are too high of a stroke.  Therefore, I have to wait until they are constricted enough that a stroke is risked, only then will surgery be considered.  This is how I go through my life every day, knowing that I have all these issues, and some day, just as with my heart (and other incidents), I will have another issue that has to be dealt with, and hopefully it will be done in time.

The last classification would be of my fellow survivors whose bodies have gone through so much trauma, more than 3 times the surgeries, secondary cancers, health issues.  It is hard enough to believe all of the things that I have to deal with.  But I know of survivors who have survived longer than me, and were treated with much more harsh treatments than me.  And today, their bodies have all but given out.  There are not many options.  They are finally at the crossroads as I mentioned in the last paragraph, the risk of correction is less than the risk of the eventual fatal event.  I know so many people who are in this position right now.  And I often scratch my head wondering why so many continue to fight on.  But they do.  And they continue to experience memories that they never thought they would see.  And even more amazingly, the often offer support to others in need, never revealing just how sick they truly are.

But it happens several times a year in my life, a survivor in this stage, can take no more.  I want to be clear, they have not given up.  Their bodies just cannot take anymore.  And it happened again just recently.  And it does not get any easier to accept.  But there definitely is no way to “just get over it.”

 

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