It's Not Just Hair

I begin to type this as I am syncing Dana's brand new ipad 2. Dana has decided to move forward with the stem cell transplant and high dose chemo after seeking additional opinions from Northwestern University and the Cleveland Clinic.

Why do I say it's not just hair? Very simply, because that is one of the hardest things Dana will have to go through again and I hate the fact that she has to endure it AGAIN. You could shave my head as I type this and I wouldn't think about it. That isn't the same for the most important woman in my life and not for any of the other women I have talked to where I actually value their opinion.

From my humble, male perspective and listening skills, hair to women is part of their identity. It is part of what makes them so beautiful to us cavemen. Our three year old daughter already knows that girls are pretty in part because of their hair. It is what makes them unique. It is a routine. By losing it you take all that away. It then makes them a patient. It makes them different. It jacks up their routine. I am quite biased when it comes to how beautiful Dana is and for me she could be bald for the rest of her life and I wouldn't care. But that isn't what my point it is.

My point is this, cancer sucks. I would trade places with Dana in a heartbeat to take every ounce of pain and suffering away from her. If you haven't had a close family member or friend go through cancer treatment you don't know how much it sucks. I am preparing to have my wife and mother of our children in the hospital for about a month. Think about that. It's a big difference from the routine business trip or get away weekend most folks take. Then once she comes home she still has one-two months of recovery at home. She had a battery of tests late this week as part of the screening process for the transplant. Over the next two weeks she will take injections to move her stem cells to the blood stream from the bone marrow and then harvest them. Once she is in the hospital she will have five days of high-dose chemo. That is one of the worst parts for me, because all I can do watch.

I apologize for the down note, but we have taken an unofficial position to help educate everyone on what really happens when someone has cancer and is treated for it. The impact is on the patient physically and mentally. The caregiver begins an incredible juggling act of schedules that will make your head spin. That is for the adults. We can process it and understand what is going on and why things are being done. But we also have young kids, I am really worried about how they will handle it as well. My hope and prayer is that somehow I will have the strength to keep them on tract and get mommy home and better.

The Tour

 As an update on Dana's cancer since confirming the relapse of her Hodgkin's disease Dana and I have made a pretty decent tour of some incredible medical institutions. Last week's tour stop was Northwestern University to meet with their lymphoma expert. Her recommendation was the most aggressive treatment plan including radiation therapy, high-dose chemo and an autologous stem cell transplant.

This week's tour stop was the Cleveland Clinic to see their top radiation oncologist and lymphoma expert. The consensus from them was high-dose chemo and an autologous stem cell transplant. The rationale for this is that it gives Dana the highest chance of curing the cancer. Which is exactly what I want as her husband.

So what does that really involve, here is the breakdown, 2-3 treatments of chemo which will require about 2 days in the hospital for each one roughly 2-3 weeks apart. After that they will do another PET scan to make sure no disease is present and then do the stem cell transplant. That requires the oncologist to harvest her own stem cells and then give them back to her. The hospital stay for this is typically 3-4 weeks in an isolated transplant unit.

I don't know how to accurately describe what it feels like to love your spouse more than life itself and then be completely powerless to help them. Impotent doesn't do it justice. Failure isn't accurate. As a dad, a husband and average guy I want to fix things. It doesn't mean I am always good at it, but if you bring a problem to me I try to fix it. If our kids fall down and scrape a knee I can fix that. Broken toy, no problem. Rough day at work, well I will give you a solution whether or not it truly fixes the problem is up for debate. But this I can't fix this for Dana and I truly hate that feeling. Dana hasn't asked why me and quite honestly it doesn't matter, because medically no one knows what causes it.

I have all the confidence in the world that she will beat this again, but it won't be an easy fight. Hopefully, her three biggest groupies give her all the incentive she ever needs to fight through everything to be cured.

                                                                Dana's groupies.

How do I handle this again?

At this point we have met with Dana's primary oncologist for his treatment recommendation and a radiation oncologist at the IU Cancer Center. Next week brings a trip to Northwestern to see the lymphoma expert there and the week after is a trip to the Cleveland Clinic to see their lymphoma expert and radiation oncologist.

So you may ask how do you handle the stress of this? Well, in part you don't sleep. I have found that I cannot shut my brain off now. It is only from pure exhaustion that I eventually fall asleep. As I talked to a friend of mine this week who watched his child undergo pretty stressful testing you start to wonder how do we do it? Not only to both of us work full time, but we have 2 young children and we are both incredibly involved parents. I found the first time around I existed on pure adrenaline and a constant state of confusion. I am hoping this time around I will be able to get rid of the confusion part.

As a husband I want to have this aura of strength for Dana, and as a father I want to have that strength for my kids. They know mommy is sick and will have to get very strong medicine, but at their young age it doesn't seem like they understand the severity of cancer. That is a probably a good thing at this point in time. After writing all that I look back and wonder where I am going to pull that strength from again. After watching the new Transformers movie tonight with friends I wish had some alien energy source like the Autobot's to save everyone. At least my son and I would think that was cool.

Over the past several weeks in relaying the events leading up to this with friends a common theme is apparent-you do what you have to do to get through things. You look at your wife and see her fighting through things and you know you can't let her down so you push a little harder, you unload the dishwasher when you want to crash, you read an extra story to your kids or lay down with them to get them to sleep even though you have a couple of hours worth of work to still to do.

Bottom line is that it isn't about you, at least not primarily. It is about taking care of your wife as the patient and your kids because one of their heroes is laid up in the hospital or in bed. I didn't take care of myself the last time around and I have to fix that. Maybe I will pick up running again and find the relief runners always talk about, but has always escaped me.

I guess whatever stressful situation you find yourself it seems like we always find a way to get through it.    
I would be willing to bet that if I surveyed my friends and co-workers we wouldn't be able to accurately state how you get through something other than you just do. My apologies for the rambling this evening, but in my defense is it 2:30 am.

Todd