More medical visits

Wed 09/26/07
Susan had a scheduled follow-up visit with neuro-oncologist Dr Nghiemphu at UCLA, who took a great while to examine her condition, plan our next therapeutic steps, and answer questions. Susan will meet with an infectious disease doctor soon to wrap up her treatment for fungal infection and meningitis; meanwhile, she'll begin oral chemotherapy tonight.
We discussed radiation oncologist Dr Puthawala's concern about the delay in beginning chemo, since Susan is halfway through her radiation schedule, and the standard protocol for grade IV glioblastoma is to run radiation and chemo simultaneously. Dr Nghiemphu had discussed the question with him and maintained her position that Susan should finish the anti-fungal treatment before starting chemo. I agree with and appreciate her position that there was greater risk to Susan's sustainable health if her fungal infection were not controlled. Some cancer therapies trace the balance between killing the cancer and killing the patient; a weakened patient may lose the availability of other options that could be employed later. It's clear that cancer treatment is as individualized as the patient and the practitioner.

Thu 09/27/07
Susan had her low-vision evaluation today at the Southern California College of Optometry in Fullerton, a lengthy and thorough exam. While her vision isn't as poor as you might think (about 20/70 without correction), her brain has trouble processing the information due to stroke. She has right-side peripheral blindness and a straight-on blind spot. She's actually better able to see someone's face and eyes by looking at the top of their head instead of directly at them – this is called eccentric viewing. Since her current glasses have progressive lenses, she'll need two new eyeglasses with simple lenses, one for reading and one for distance, that will allow her to practice eccentric viewing. Next, we'll meet with a low-vision therapist to discuss adaptations Susan can use in addition to corrective lenses.

Susan and I had a long talk last night while the kids were at work and church. We talked about how much things have changed in our lives in only a few months. We talked about our gratitude for the amazing financial and emotional support we've gotten from friends and family. And we talked about how thankful we are that we've reached a place of acceptance in our circumstances. We each shared that we've accepted our own death as a fact. Susan will die. I will die. It's inevitable. If it doesn't come sooner, it will come later, so we're not fighting it. The good thing is now we know the freedom that comes in realizing that we're each dying and welcoming it as a reality. We're not weighed down with the futile grasping of denial. We're not gnashing and moaning in anger, or pining away with thoughts of why this happened or if only it weren't true. Instead, we know our days are numbered, and we are free to celebrate them. Life is more precious when you know death awaits. We're still fighting – fighting for health and fighting to push through, fighting against cancer and fighting for restoration, whatever that will be like. We are no longer fighting against death, we're fighting for life. It's a subtle difference, but vital. Susan has a sense of purpose in this season: that God yet has good work to do in us, that her time to die is not imminent, and that she will be a witness to His grace and His power. We talked about how all this is possible because Jesus died, rose again to remove the sting of death, and reigns in Heaven to secure our eternal life. This is the truth that is our source of hope. Meanwhile, we talked about how thankful we are that God meets our needs daily. We talked about our love and gratitude for each other, and how content we are to be together each day. We had a good, long talk.