Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the tag “treatment”

Lymphoma – Technology and Treatments – So Much Better, But Not Good Enough


Treating lymphoma has always been about timing.  I cannot talk about treating non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma as I did not have it, nor do I know anyone who has battled it.  But as far as Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is concerned.  I was diagnosed six months before my first wedding (that is another post) and as I begged my oncologist (cancer doctor) that I wanted to hold off on any treatments until after my wedding, he was having no parts of it.  For a male patient, there really is no excuse for delaying treatment ever.  However, for a female who happens to be pregnant, this is a whole other issue.  For men, yes, sterility is an issue and for women as well, but when a woman is already pregnant, a hard decision has to be made whether to allow doctors to use toxic drugs to save her life, but also might adversely affect her baby’s life.  There is no guarantee.  I will talk about this type of decision in another post.

It has been over twenty five years since I underwent my first biopsy to diagnose my lymphoma.  And I am amazed to hear, as well as quite glad, that newer patients have not had to be subjected to the barbaric methods that I was diagnosed with.  But going back even forty and fifty and sixty years, cancer diagnostics have come a long way.  As for my experiences, here are three of the diagnostics that I rarely hear used today:

1)  bone marrow biopsy – taken from each side of my hip (felt like my ankles were being ripped up through my legs).  One side note to this, I actually had to have a third sample taken.  It seems that occurred after I heard my doctor say “oops” and claimed he had “lost” it.

2)  lymphangiogram – a cool sounding test, if you do not mind your legs being propped in a bent position for the entire procedure.  A slice is made into each foot, to all a doctor to use microscopic lenses to see lymph vessels (like blood vessels only much smaller) to inject a radioactive dye, that when subjected to an x-ray, lit my entire lymph system like a human Christmas tree to see where other possible affected lymph nodes might be located.

3) staging laparotomy – spleen removal, node biopsies, liver biopsy.  Not pleasant and quite painful.  An incision from sternum to belly button is made (any woman who has undergone a C-section will know this pain).

These three things were done to determine the staging of my disease, either 1, 2, 3, or 4.  By the time all was said and done, I was diagnosed 3b.  But in the decades since, a new kind of scan is now used to stage almost all cancers, a PET scan.  I only know enough from a few friends and my father who have undergone those scans to know they are no big deal.  In any case, I am glad that this new technology exists, however, it is still far from exact.  There are still uncertainties that exist during the staging process, and this can delay treatments.

So let’s talk about treatments.  Ask any radiation oncologist, and most will probably say they can cure Hodgkin’s Lymphoma with just radiation.  As any of us who grew up near a nuclear reactor like Three Mile Island, or know World War history, radiation in large amounts is a bad, bad, thing.  Side effects are brutal.  But radiation could give remission to certain cancer patients, especially Hodgkin’s patients.  Again, I will go more into side effects in detail in another post, but if you want to sneak a peak, I do have a link to the side effects from radiation I personally dealt with.

In the 1940’s, medicine discovered a drug, nitrogen mustard (a derivative of mustard gas, the same type dictator Sadaam Hussein used to kill his people), which had great results in giving people remission.  Just like radiation, it too had its drawbacks.  Besides being a deadly poison, it was also known to cause sterility in males during treatment.  Unfortunately for me, that occurred.  Shortly after that, a report came out that recommended that maximum treatments to reduce the possibility of sterility.  Yep, the two extra months of chemotherapy are probably what caused my sterility.

Like many people before me, I was treated with both radiation, mustargen, but also a cocktail of six other drugs, all carrying various risks.  And for survivors of Hodgkin’s from as far back as sixty years ago, yes, I know someone who has survived Hodgkin’s that long ago, these risks have become reality for us, and many quite critical to our health.  But again, over the decades since my treatments, the doctors found out that they could treat Hodgkin’s with less drugs, and soon, my chemo cocktail had been cut in half.  The hopes were to produce a remission more safely.  But it cannot be understated that the drugs are still dangerous, the damage to the human body still exists.

The last sentence for me became a reality this past year.  I met a young man who had done so well with his chemo therapy regimen, with the same drugs that I had been given.  Yet weeks later, he would be one of the rare patients who would develop a very bad reaction within two months of being declared in remission.  I did a post on Adriamyacin a couple of months ago, so you can find out the details there, and I will do another post later on.  But the long short of it, this young man, still a kid as far as I am concerned, died less than six months from the time that he was told to go ahead and enjoy his life.

Like I said, treatments today, while better than they were when I was treated, are still bad today.  We need better and safer treatments.  We need better and safer diagnostics.  We need better and safer follow-up guidelines.  I have no doubt in my mind, that had the young man who died as a result of the damage from his treatment, had he been followed up more closely being given a drug that was proven to cause potential damage to the heart, he would still be alive today.  A simple echocardiogram during the middle of the treatment, an inexpensive test when you put it in perspective that the lack of this test cost the man his life, could have given the doctors an opportunity to alter the treatment, or completely change the therapy regimen all together.

And so, during this month of September, National Lymphoma Month, I am going to inform you and educate why it is important to become aware of this rare disease that still needs a cure.  I am not asking you to make a donation, though I know I would personally appreciate it if you would.  But rather, I am about awareness.  Please, share this article, and the many that follow.  Share “Paul’s Heart.”  Together we can make a difference.

Survivor Guilt


The following is a link to a newsletter article that has been published in Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center’s quarterly newsletter for cancer survivors.  This was my second submission.  I am copying the story here, but for it too look really cool (and of course, see the other topics that are discussed) make sure you check out the link.

http://www.mskcc.org/sites/www.mskcc.org/files/node/4333/documents/bridges-spring-2013.pdf

Question:  I recently lost a fellow cancer survivor and am experiencing survivor’s guilt. Do you have any suggestions for coping with these feelings?

Answer:  First, please let me express my sincerest sympathy for the loss of your friend.  Survivor’s guilt is a common and often underestimated feeling experienced by both patients and caregivers. As a survivor or caregiver, we are expected to just be grateful and simply move on. Do not ask questions. But we do.  A year after my own treatment ended, I trained and participated in a peer-to-peer program with the American
Cancer Society called “Cansurmount.”  The concept is to match survivors of cancer with patients who are struggling with their own diagnosis, treatment, or survival.

My first patient was a 14-year-old girl who would eventually pass away from the same cancer that I had, leaving me to ask, “Why her and not me?”
As someone who was fortunate to have beaten the odds, it was not long before I found myself facing an unexpected and insurmountable wall
of self-doubt, which I refer to as my survivor’s guilt. Perhaps survivor’s guilt is a way for our hearts and minds to remind us of where we came from, and what we have endured. The important thing to realize is that this feeling is often overwhelming, but can be alleviated.

With technology, I have been able to widen my experience and knowledge of cancer patients and survival. I have participated in Internet support
groups for over 15 years and finally accept that with 22 years of survival behind me, I am a long-term survivor.  Surviving also means that I have
experienced loss. In just over a decade, I have said goodbye to well over 100 friends and relatives who were not able to achieve that remission.

The question I still ask myself is always the same, “Why them and not me?”  But what gets me through each and every day is knowing that my survival mattered to those who have passed.  My experiences inspired them just as theirs inspired me. There is no way to know the reasons that some survive and, sadly, others pass. The answer can be as simple as the one that comes from a parent when a child asks, “Why?” and the parent responds, “Just because.” It is cruel and it hurts.

It matters that you are here now and asking this question because at some point someone else will read your question when they are questioning
their survival and know others have gone through a similar experience.  Reach out for help. Support from others with personal experience or
professional knowledge (like the staff of the MSKCC Counseling Center) is essential to help us understand that what we feel inside is common and
expected, and can be overcome.

My First Visit To Sloan Kettering Memorial Cancer Center


March 3, 1995 was a day that I had waited for five years to occur.  I was going to use the word “cured” with confidence that my Hodgkin’s Disease would be gone forever.  I had learned so much over those five years.  I had to watch if I got a high fever, keep an eye out for lumps and discolorations, all common sense stuff that I could do on my own without having to pay a co-pay for.  And in spite of statistics being based on five year survival rates, there was no evidence that I was going to comply with those odds.  Things were on my side for a long life.

I recently wrote a post on “big hospital vs. little hospital” so I won’t repeat my thoughts on that at this time.  As far as I was concerned, it was life as usual.  I would see my family doctor, whose practice is an hour away from my home, once a year, for a seasonal allergy shot.  I never thought about hospitalization, because prior to my Hodgkin’s Disease, I did not need to worry about hospitals.

But then I got the rude awakening when I dared to complain about a symtpom that I had ignored for nearly four months.  I was told that I needed open heart surgery at age 42, and it was due to radiation damage from my treatments eighteen years earlier.  I was at a hospital that I was more than familiar with for many reasons, of which is another post.  But the Lehigh Valley Hospital was one of the biggest networks in the area, so I felt in good hands.

One of the first things that I should have done when I got out of the hospital was head to Atlantic City or Las Vegas.  I was one of the luckiest people on the planet because I not only pre-empted my pending fatal heart attack, but I would come to find out, after getting my surgical report, that my surgery was based on the care for the average heart patient, not for someone exposed to four times the lifetime exposure of radiation and chemotheraputic drugs such as Bleomyacin,  Adriamyacin and other anthracycline drugs.  Decisions that were made then, could have had much different results.  Neither my doctors, nurses, or myself knew what was at risk.

In the past, I had been involved with an on-line support group for Long Term Survivors of cancer.  Up until now, I had never felt like I belonged there, because everyone that I had met on this list, were dealing with ailments blamed on their cancer treatments, cardiac, pulmonary, liver, secondary cancers, etc..  At worst, any issues that I had been dealing with from my cancer treatments were some hair that had not grown back, infertility issues, and thyroid issues.  Up until now.  So the first thing I did from the hospital was not visit a casino or play the lottery, I went back to those that I knew, would know best.

I am not qualified to define what exactly a “Long Term Cancer Survivor” is, or determine what criteria is to be met.  There is no committee collecting membership dues.  There is no ruler.  There are moderators, who are survivors themselves facing severe health issues related to their treatments, and they have the unpopular challenge of protecting each participant from common email attacks or personality clashes.  The fact is, we have enough to deal with.  And so it began, the journey to find doctors who specialize in long term cancer survivors.

Unfortunately, long term side effects are not widely studied by primary care physicians, specialists, and other caregivers.  Only in recent years does the discipline even have a recognizable heartbeat with an occasional article in the New England Journal or other publication.  Of course, the researchers and pharmacutical companies did not spend much time or money on late side effects, because we were not expected to survive a lifetime.  But we do.

Through the Childrens Oncology Group, I learned that there were two facilities that were within a decent day’s road trip, in Philadelphia at the University Of Pennsylvania and in Manhattan at Sloan Kettering Memorial Cancer Center.  From the internet support group, I knew a lot more about the program at MSKCC, but knew that both hospitals were some of the best in the country.

Scared, and running out of hope, I contacted the first name that I recognized from MSKCC, Dr. O.  In him, I struck gold.  He originally practiced in Texas.  For decades, this doctor studied Hodgkin’s Disease and survivorship of the late effects from treatments.  To get an appointment with him was the equivalent of winning the lottery.  I know of some other patients that see him, and knew that I was being cared for by the best, the leader, the example for survival care.  Through his leadership and mentorship, there are now many survivor clinics accross the United States, and the knowledge is now spreading across the world.  Survivors of cancer were not only being recognized, being represented, but being cared for.

Today, there are protocols for new patients when they reach the end of their treatments.  The medicines and procedures are less invasive, less toxic, and result in less severe side effects, but to be honest, the risks do still exist.  That is why there is the Relay For Life and Stand Up 2 Cancer.  Better ways of diagnosing and treating cancer need to, and can still be found.  With the follow-up protocol, the chances for picking up a late developing side effect, or secondary cancer, can now be found earlier and have the better success to survive, as if surviving cancer was not enough of a challenge.

My first trip to Manahattan since high school was overwhelming enough let alone to walk into one of the greatest medical facilities in the world.  I was greeted by Nick, also known as the “Ambassador” who gave me the instructions I needed to locate Dr. O’s office.  It was there that I met Beth, a nurse practitioner who had spent a long time with the cancer survivor program.  We spent close to an hour going over my health history.  She offered me compassion, empathy, and care as it was obvious, an entire new world was collapsing all around me.  I thought I was only going to be talking about cardiac issues.  But there was so much more.

Eventually, Dr. O came in and spent another hour with me, this time explaining all the things that had been discovered about cancer survivors like me, what had been done to me, and what would need to be done to care for me.  As he put it, “I want to make sure that your grandchildren get to know the great man you are and what you have been through.”  Okay, I was not really thinking about grandparenthood at 42, but I like his long term thinking.  Together we came up with a plan including retrieving my old records to find out exactly what I had been exposed to, and compare what they now know as far as what to look for in late developing side effects.  These are all things that are done now with current patients.

Nearly five years later, comparisons can now be made for me that show the progression of any of the side effects as there were no basline studies done on me 23 years ago.  I have a complete understanding of what my survival has meant to me, but also what it means to others, my family, my friends, and other survivors.  There are millions of us who have survived cancer.  Not all surivivors will develope side effects.  Not all survivors will know if what they may be dealing with may actually be attributed to their treatments.  That could be a good thing, take it from me.  It is a Pandora’s Box to know that more issues can occur, will occur, to know the increased risks at being proactive or letting things take their course.

This past week, it had been confirmed a symptom that I complained about two years ago, had returned, and why.  It is also suspected of causing a serious bout of “aspiration pneumonia” two months ago.  but this is just the beginning stages as further investigation will take place later this week to get an overall view from beginning to end, and then a new treatment plan will be determined as I continue to age towards grandparenthood.  Thankfully, because of Dr. O, and more than a dozen other caregivers that he has me deal with, I am going to get that chance.

Post Navigation