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Five Six Friends with Cancer
The older we become, the more likely we will have friends that will have cancer. In the last year or so, five close friends and relatives were diagnosed with various types of cancer. I am pleased to say that three are "cured", and two are under intense treatment.
Lymphoma: She was in her late fifties; never smoked a day in her life. Her only addictions were her grandchildren, traveling, and Bonsai trees. We were going to go to Europe with them. It would have been our first trip; they have been there many times and would be our guides. A few suspicious lymph nodes appeared in her neck. These were not the painful, reactive nodes we see with sore throats or dental infections. These were hard and fixed. Her doctor didn't like them either and sent her for a prompt biopsy. Once lymphoma was diagnosed, she underwent chemotherapy at a major cancer center. Today, she is in total remission, visiting her grandchildren, and as a Master Gardener, teaching Bonsai classes. Europe will still be there when we decide to go again.
Breast Cancers: She was also in her late fifties; a teacher and my sister-in-law. Because we had to cancel our Europe trip and had the time off, we decided to visit her and my brother. When we called to announce our visit, they had just left the doctor's office. Her annual mammogram showed a possible cancer; a biopsy confirmed it. After her lumpectomy, radiation therapy, and tamoxifen, she is now cancer-free. She hopes to retire this year to have more time to play.
Last year, a WebMD colleague - the person who edits the All Ears blog - also was diagnosed with breast cancer. She has undergone aggressive treatment and she, too, is doing well. She is taking time to walk with other cancer survivors and raising money for more research. I have never met her personally, but shared in her struggle and rejoiced in her remission.
Brain Cancer: It hit him without warning, like a lightening strike. Our best friend was preparing lunch for a visiting colleague when he suddenly lost his ability to speak the words he was thinking. Fearing that he was having a stroke, his wife called 911 (prompted after a phone call to us first). It wasn't a stroke. It was a brain tumor. As a matter of fact, it was the Mother of all Tumors, the Big Kahuna - an advanced-stage glioblastoma, the same tumor that recently took the life of Senator Ted Kennedy.
It has been nearly a year now; a year of brain surgery, radiation therapy, repeated rounds of chemotherapy, a few ER visits for unexpected seizures, repeated MRIs /PET scans, second opinions, and third opinions. He is holding his own right now, spending time with his children, grandchildren, seeing some great shows in Vegas, and enjoying the time he has left. He knows that his prognosis is not good, but still hopes for that miracle. If anyone deserves a miracle, it is George. We are going with him and his wife to the next consultation visit.
Prostate Cancer: He was one of my best friends in college and still is. On a routine examination, his PSA (prostatic specific antigen) was very elevated. A biopsy of his prostate was suggested. It wasn't a routine biopsy, either. The surgeon nicked an artery that would not stop bleeding; he nearly bled to death. Thinking that a person can only cheat death once in their lives, he hoped his biopsy would be negative. It wasn't. His prostate has been seeded with radioactive "rice" (brachyotherapy) and it has worked like a charm. He considers himself cancer-free and has done a long bike ride to celebrate his successful cure.
Lung cancer: I have known Harv for over 35 years. Together, we helped form the California Academy of Physician Assistants (CAPA), an organization that is still thriving with thousands of members. He was a smoker - a heavy smoker. This resulted in some pretty severe emphysema, so he has been on oxygen. Two weeks ago, like my friend, George, he suddenly lost his ability to speak an intended word. It was not those "brain-farts" that we all get from time to time; this was a serious loss of communication. He lives alone now in Arkansas, but knew he needed medical care quickly. A CT of the brain found a tumor; two, actually. A CT of the lung found the source. Harv has lung cancer that has metastasized to his brain. This week, he is undergoing gamma knife surgery, followed by chemotherapy. He is afraid, but is not letting a little cancer slow him down. He is still planning a cruise, going to his Navy reunion, and planning his annual trip to CAPA in October. He said that he was not surprised at getting lung cancer. As an astute medical clinician, he knows the reason, but his addiction to cigarettes was just too strong for him to quit.
As I have mentioned many times in the past, my father died of lung cancer at age 39. He was a smoker, too, compounded by his asbestos exposure in the Baltimore shipyards. He had a lung removed and endured painful cobalt radiation before he died six months or so after his diagnosis. This was in 1957, long before there was a specialty called oncology.
My brother has had a melanoma on his chest in the past. This is puzzling since he does not prance around without his shirt, even though he is a sailor. He, too, is a cancer survivor, cured by removing this early lesion before it caused additional trouble.
We need to take better care of ourselves, at least as well as we take care of our cars. The same people who become worried when they don't change their oil ever 3,000 miles, are really the same people who have not had a physical examination and baseline lab work for years. In the end, we will all die of something - humans do not live forever. Cancer is among us and we need to be diligent on looking for those suspicious signs and symptoms. Detected early and treated aggressively, cancer is no longer the automatic death sentence that it once was. We are slowly winning the battle, one survivor at a time.
FYI: My PSA and lipids are good. I passed my cardiac stress test with flying colors. I recently had a brain MRI for my tinnitus, so I know I do not have an occult brain tumor. My brain-farts are clearly due to something else. I have never smoked. I don't drink alcohol. I am happily married (married men live longer). I wear seat belts. I have no lumps in my man-boobs or moles that are suspect of melanoma.
I do need to eat more responsibly, lose 30-40 pounds to shake my Santa image, get a colonoscopy (so I can blog about it), and get my blood pressure in better control. Knowing what to do is the easy part; doing it is the hard part.
I would like to live several decades after I retire. I have places to go...things to do...family, friends, and dogs to love...patients to see....WebMD board postings to answer...and lots more stuff to write about.
Get the free WebMD Living Better Newsletter - wellness news to keep you healthy and strong!
Lymphoma: She was in her late fifties; never smoked a day in her life. Her only addictions were her grandchildren, traveling, and Bonsai trees. We were going to go to Europe with them. It would have been our first trip; they have been there many times and would be our guides. A few suspicious lymph nodes appeared in her neck. These were not the painful, reactive nodes we see with sore throats or dental infections. These were hard and fixed. Her doctor didn't like them either and sent her for a prompt biopsy. Once lymphoma was diagnosed, she underwent chemotherapy at a major cancer center. Today, she is in total remission, visiting her grandchildren, and as a Master Gardener, teaching Bonsai classes. Europe will still be there when we decide to go again.
Breast Cancers: She was also in her late fifties; a teacher and my sister-in-law. Because we had to cancel our Europe trip and had the time off, we decided to visit her and my brother. When we called to announce our visit, they had just left the doctor's office. Her annual mammogram showed a possible cancer; a biopsy confirmed it. After her lumpectomy, radiation therapy, and tamoxifen, she is now cancer-free. She hopes to retire this year to have more time to play.
Last year, a WebMD colleague - the person who edits the All Ears blog - also was diagnosed with breast cancer. She has undergone aggressive treatment and she, too, is doing well. She is taking time to walk with other cancer survivors and raising money for more research. I have never met her personally, but shared in her struggle and rejoiced in her remission.
Brain Cancer: It hit him without warning, like a lightening strike. Our best friend was preparing lunch for a visiting colleague when he suddenly lost his ability to speak the words he was thinking. Fearing that he was having a stroke, his wife called 911 (prompted after a phone call to us first). It wasn't a stroke. It was a brain tumor. As a matter of fact, it was the Mother of all Tumors, the Big Kahuna - an advanced-stage glioblastoma, the same tumor that recently took the life of Senator Ted Kennedy.
It has been nearly a year now; a year of brain surgery, radiation therapy, repeated rounds of chemotherapy, a few ER visits for unexpected seizures, repeated MRIs /PET scans, second opinions, and third opinions. He is holding his own right now, spending time with his children, grandchildren, seeing some great shows in Vegas, and enjoying the time he has left. He knows that his prognosis is not good, but still hopes for that miracle. If anyone deserves a miracle, it is George. We are going with him and his wife to the next consultation visit.
Prostate Cancer: He was one of my best friends in college and still is. On a routine examination, his PSA (prostatic specific antigen) was very elevated. A biopsy of his prostate was suggested. It wasn't a routine biopsy, either. The surgeon nicked an artery that would not stop bleeding; he nearly bled to death. Thinking that a person can only cheat death once in their lives, he hoped his biopsy would be negative. It wasn't. His prostate has been seeded with radioactive "rice" (brachyotherapy) and it has worked like a charm. He considers himself cancer-free and has done a long bike ride to celebrate his successful cure.
Lung cancer: I have known Harv for over 35 years. Together, we helped form the California Academy of Physician Assistants (CAPA), an organization that is still thriving with thousands of members. He was a smoker - a heavy smoker. This resulted in some pretty severe emphysema, so he has been on oxygen. Two weeks ago, like my friend, George, he suddenly lost his ability to speak an intended word. It was not those "brain-farts" that we all get from time to time; this was a serious loss of communication. He lives alone now in Arkansas, but knew he needed medical care quickly. A CT of the brain found a tumor; two, actually. A CT of the lung found the source. Harv has lung cancer that has metastasized to his brain. This week, he is undergoing gamma knife surgery, followed by chemotherapy. He is afraid, but is not letting a little cancer slow him down. He is still planning a cruise, going to his Navy reunion, and planning his annual trip to CAPA in October. He said that he was not surprised at getting lung cancer. As an astute medical clinician, he knows the reason, but his addiction to cigarettes was just too strong for him to quit.
As I have mentioned many times in the past, my father died of lung cancer at age 39. He was a smoker, too, compounded by his asbestos exposure in the Baltimore shipyards. He had a lung removed and endured painful cobalt radiation before he died six months or so after his diagnosis. This was in 1957, long before there was a specialty called oncology.
My brother has had a melanoma on his chest in the past. This is puzzling since he does not prance around without his shirt, even though he is a sailor. He, too, is a cancer survivor, cured by removing this early lesion before it caused additional trouble.
We need to take better care of ourselves, at least as well as we take care of our cars. The same people who become worried when they don't change their oil ever 3,000 miles, are really the same people who have not had a physical examination and baseline lab work for years. In the end, we will all die of something - humans do not live forever. Cancer is among us and we need to be diligent on looking for those suspicious signs and symptoms. Detected early and treated aggressively, cancer is no longer the automatic death sentence that it once was. We are slowly winning the battle, one survivor at a time.
FYI: My PSA and lipids are good. I passed my cardiac stress test with flying colors. I recently had a brain MRI for my tinnitus, so I know I do not have an occult brain tumor. My brain-farts are clearly due to something else. I have never smoked. I don't drink alcohol. I am happily married (married men live longer). I wear seat belts. I have no lumps in my man-boobs or moles that are suspect of melanoma.
I do need to eat more responsibly, lose 30-40 pounds to shake my Santa image, get a colonoscopy (so I can blog about it), and get my blood pressure in better control. Knowing what to do is the easy part; doing it is the hard part.
I would like to live several decades after I retire. I have places to go...things to do...family, friends, and dogs to love...patients to see....WebMD board postings to answer...and lots more stuff to write about.
Get the free WebMD Living Better Newsletter - wellness news to keep you healthy and strong!
Labels: brain, breast, cancer, family, friends, health and wellness, Kennedy, lung, lymphoma, melanoma, prostate cancer
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