Guess Where We're Going!

I don’t like to brag, but with summer break finally here and everyone planning these awesome vacations, I thought you should know that Peter and I booked this sweet couples getaway for next month. This place has everything – valet parking, room service, private entry, 24 hour security, free cable and Wi-Fi, and high-rise views of the city. They also throw in complimentary bedpans and compression socks, if I remember correctly. Yes, I expect we’ll be leaving quite the glowing review on TripAdvisor about our charming stay at Vanderbilt University Medical Center.

5 stars. Would stay again.

After giving it a lot of thought (and dragging our feet for the better part of a week), Peter and I finally agreed that surgery is the best option. I think we both knew that after our meeting with the neurosurgeon, but neither of us were ready to get on board just yet. Brain surgery is scary. And lengthy. And exhausting. And generally a big fat pain in the watusi. But it's also an incredible gift that gives Peter a second (well, third) chance at life that a lot of tumor patients aren't lucky enough to get. So, even though we're not relishing the thought of going through this again, we're grateful for the opportunity to enjoy some extra years together.

Peter’s surgery is scheduled for June 14^th, which just so happens to be Donald Trump’s birthday. I wish I was making that up. I’m not. This surgery is gonna be HUUUUUGE. And I’ll get Vanderbilt to pay for it. 

  

So now begins the delightful process of pre-op appointments, phone calls with the insurance company, scheduling medical leave and making arrangements for our romantic three day hospital getaway. Oh, and making one of these...

I'll post updates and photos as they're available. If Peter still looks as good in a hospital robe as I remember, you're all in for quite a treat! 

Until next time!

A Hairy Situation

There are two things you should know about Peter:

1. He's a perfectionist.
2. He's cheap.  

These two factors combined mean that I have the exclusive privilege of being his hairstylist (a moment of silence, please). It’s not because I’m particularly qualified, but my services are free and I’m the only one willing to stand behind a chair for two hours while he critiques his haircut from every possible angle. This man approaches a haircut the way an IRS agent approaches a tax audit. I’ve actually seen stylists at Great Clips give up and tell him, “I don’t think I can do that.”

So, as you might expect, Peter’s first order of business during our consult with the neurosurgeon today was what kind of haircut he could expect with his surgery. Last time he went into this blindly and ended up with a modified mohawk, so he wasn’t about to make that mistake again. Today he presented the neurosurgeon with pictures of acceptable hairstyles.

 And because he heard on the radio about a really great deal on hair extensions, he also included this:

Feel free to vote on your favorite. The surgeon assures us he can make any of them work.

With that important piece of business out of the way, we were able to discuss Peter's treatment options. The surgeon agrees with the tumor board that surgery is a favorable option at this point. Despite the fact that the tumor is growing, there is no pressure on the brain or any indication that the tumor has progressed to a higher grade. Chemo and radiation are still options if Peter wants to consider them, but the surgeon feels confident he can safely complete another resection. Of course, there is always the risk that surgery will compromise Peter's cognitive function, and that's obviously a major concern. He absolutely loves his job, and the thought of no longer being competitive in his field or being able to support his family creates a lot of uncertainty.

So, with all that in mind, we're going to take a few days to think things over and pray about it. There's not as much urgency to move forward with treatment this time around, so we have some flexibility with making our decision. I know it's not the most exciting update, but for now it's all we've got. We'll let you know when we've got more news to share.

The Tumor Reunion Tour

Remember in 2008 when New Kids on the Block announced their reunion tour? It was supposed to be really cool because, hey, it was New Kids on the Block and they were making a comeback! But then it just turned out to be super embarrassing because they were all middle aged men with wives and kids and all their songs still used a synthesizer. 

That’s kind of how it feels to be updating this blog.

We haven’t posted anything since 2013, and instead of being young and cool with an interesting story to tell, Pete and I are like, “Hey, remember us? Those older, fatter, less attractive people that still have that brain cancer thing going on? Yup, that’s us. We’ll be giving out autographs after the show.” 

For those of you who are just learning about this, here’s a quick recap: In July 2012, Peter unexpectedly suffered a grand mal seizure. After a day in the emergency room and several tests, we found out he had a brain tumor about the size of a golf ball in the left frontal lobe. He underwent resection surgery 3 weeks later, and the biopsy revealed it was a grade II oligodendroglioma. (Scripps Spelling Bee contestants be like, “Can I have the language of origin, please?”) It is a slow-growing tumor, but because it infiltrates the surrounding brain matter, they will never be able to remove it entirely. The prognosis is 10-15 years. Peter underwent chemotherapy for one year, and for the past 4 years the residual tumor has remained stable.

Fast forward to late April this year when Pete went for a follow-up MRI and doctor visit. If it’s any indication of how comfortable we’d grown with receiving good news at these visits, we almost considered leaving before getting the results of the MRI. You see, while Vanderbilt is good at many things, they aren’t so great about seeing patients in a timely manner. If you have an appointment in the cancer center, I highly suggest bringing a sack lunch and low expectations. 

Anyway, we decided to wait it out, and it’s a good thing we did because this wasn’t a typical follow-up. The doctor informed us that there was new growth at the tumor site that hadn’t been there six months earlier. This was completely unexpected, as we’d been told it would likely be six or seven years before any regrowth occurs. What can I say? Peter is advanced. 

Peter’s case was presented before the tumor board (because that’s an actual thing, apparently) to decide on the best course of treatment. We were told that they might recommend radiation, another course of chemo, or just to wait a month and order another MRI. None of that happened. They’re recommending a second surgery. We have to meet with the neurosurgeon on Monday to discuss whether he thinks he can perform this operation safely and whether it’s the best treatment option.

So, suffice it to say we’re fairly nervous, a little scared, and really, really frustrated that all of this is happening again so soon. Another surgery would mean significant time off work, lengthy recovery, and possibly, God forbid, me having to chauffeur the world’s most obnoxious backseat driver until he gets clearance to drive again. We’ll keep all of you updated as soon as we have news from the neurosurgeon, but in the meantime we would greatly appreciate your prayers. We know that God is in control, but we could really use peace and guidance during this time. 

Thanks for sticking with us and supporting Peter through the tumor reunion tour. I’ve suggested that he name his tumor Voldemort so he can dramatically announce, “He’s back! Voldemort’s back!” Still waiting for a response on that one…