July 18 - Part II

Okay, worst.phone.call.ever.

Just talked to Dr. C. The tumor is deep seated in the muscle. He used every instrument on hand in an effort to see it and he can't. It's that far in. But he says that he can feel it and the MRI and the PET scan both show it's there. He said he got as deep as he could to get a biopsy for it. Results will be back in 3-5 days. He said that he would think it's just radiated tissue except the PET scan shows that it's cancer and the fact that I'm in so much pain and am having a hard time even opening my jaw, points to the fact that it's a cancerous tumor.

So, it's located in the worst place possible. He said he can do surgery on it but I will lose my ability to swallow, to talk, to eat, to move my jaw, it will affect my airway, etc. I will need a feeding tube in my stomach for the rest of my life and I will be talking through a trach for the rest of my life. He said my quality of life will be extremely bad. On top of that, he said he can't guarantee that the surgery will be successful. He said it's a REALLY tough surgery. He said I could get a second opinion from Mayo or Sloan Kettering or Roswell - and at the mention of Roswell he went off on a tangent as he is wont to do and said they're having departmental upheavals at Roswell right now and he's never been super impressed with them so he wouldn't actually recommend them for a second opinion. Anyway, back on topic. He doesn't think I need to travel that far for a second opinion. He's going to set me up with an appointment with the robotic arm guy, Matt Miller, to give me a second opinion. I'm assuming that should happen within the next week or so. Although he said he's pretty sure that I am NOT a candidate for the robotic surgery at this point but that doesn't make Dr. Miller any less of a choice for a second opinion on cancerous tumors.

He said that since it's in an area that has already been radiated, neither radiation nor chemo will save me. But based on how badly my life will deteriorate with the surgery, he said that I may want to opt to have chemo to reduce the tumor for a while, extend my life for a limited amount of time, get my affairs in order, say my goodbyes, and that's that.

He said the choice is up to me.

This is so not fun.

William, our 75 year old Russian scientist at work, told me a story today. He said there were two cups of milk. A mouse was dropped into each cup of milk to drown them. The first mouse said oh well, there's nothing I can do, and so he drowned. The second mouse said screw that, and started kicking and swimming for all she's worth, turned the milk into butter,  and escaped. Cute story but unfortunately I don't think I'm going to be making butter.