Jen has been moved out of ICU and is now in room #4133 of the Helford Bldg at City of Hope. She is doing okay, but is having a great deal of difficulty with her communication. The doctors say it will still be several days before we can assess her speech accurately due to the swelling from the surgery.
Jen did get out of bed today and was able to walk with a walker a very short distance. Tomorrow they will step up her physical therapy as well as occupational and speech therapy. She has been eating well and her level of pain seems to be getting better. The doctors will probably remove some of the bandages tomorrow in order to examine the sutures.
Jen says she is still not up for visitors. I will let everyone know when she is.
Thursday, August 30, 2018
Jen's status
Tuesday, August 28, 2018
Post surgery
Jen's surgery went well. As I write this she is being transferred to ICU. Jen is still very much out of it from the surgery but she is awake and talking. The biggest risk in the next several days is from infection. The surgeon said her scalp was paper thin in some areas. They had to use a smaller suture to close, but they were able to get a tight closure. We will have to monitor for any seepage over the next several days.
Jen had about 70% of the tumor resected. Less than ideal but about as much as we had anticipated due to the sensitive area the tumor is in. She had 2 infusion tubes implanted into her brain that the Car-T cells will be injected into as soon as they are able to.
Jen will be in ICU all of tomorrow. As Jen recovers we will have to see if there was any further damage to her communication ability from the surgery. As I mentioned earlier, Jen was woken up during the procedure in order to map her brain function, so hopefully any damage will be minimal. As soon as she is able to be transferred to a room I will let everyone know so that those who wish to visit may do so. FYI - this Friday is Jen's birthday!
Monday, August 27, 2018
Moving forward with surgery
Jen has been cleared for surgery. Both her platelet and white counts have risen enough to proceed. She is scheduled for tomorrow at 2pm. Following the surgery, Jen will most likely be in ICU for a few days. Once she has a room, I will post the info for those who may wish to visit.
There are obviously many risks associated with brain surgery and Jen is still at an increased risk of infection due to the thinness of her skin from radiation and Optune. But, there are risks to not trying as well.
The concern is still Jen's communication ability. She has already had a severe hit in the past few months and the surgeon won't be able to remove all of the tumor. What is left behind will mostly be in her language area and we will have to wait almost 3 weeks after surgery before the Car-T can be injected into her brain. Hopefully, any further deterioration during this time will be minimal. Jen's surgery will be done as an awake procedure so that the surgeon can be as aggressive as possible while hopefully preserving as much function as possible.
In spite of the many things that can go wrong, we are hoping for a few crucial things to go right. This is probably Jen's best chance for any meaningful outcome. Things haven't been going in Jen's favor for the past few months - it's time to hopefully change that. As always, please continue to keep Jen in your thoughts and prayers.
Sunday, August 26, 2018
Uncertain Surgery (Post 1 of 2)
Poetic Musings (post 2 of 2)
The first one is a re-post of an earlier one followed by three more nature poems. The last two are poems that Jen was working on about her brain cancer.
Phases
The moon is New.
Impossible to see; shrouded in her inky cloak.
She allows this night alone for the stars to take center stage.
Shimmering, glittering against a backdrop of pure blackness.
The stars put on an impressive show – a celestial kaleidoscope of constellations –
Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, Perseus, the Pleiades…
Venus, Jupiter, Saturn and even Mars make their appearances as well,
tracking across the sky in their predictable orbits.
The entire Milky Way herself –
her graceful arms sweeping ever outward, twirling, whirling,
in this dance that has no end.
But the moon is a jealous lover.
And so, night by night, she will shed this dusky cloak,
like an astronomical strip tease.
It begins with a little slip of the cloak off of one shoulder.
Then, night by night, gradually revealing more of her
glowing, Gibbous beauty.
Night by night, until she becomes Full.
All fat and round and bright,
letting loose her siren song over the tides.
How boldly she shines in unashamed nakedness!
Then, night by night, she coyly pulls the cloak
back over her shoulder, ever so slowly.
And, night by night, she turns away, until we can see her no more.
She is New again.
Night by night, in this dance that has no end.
Desert Nocturne – midsummer, California
As the sun slowly melts
behind the mountains
dusk begins in the canyon.
A few insects begin tuning
for tonight’s performance.
By the time we can see the first stars
dot the sky above, the symphony is well underway.
Cricket wings play the strings;
while coyotes sing soprano.
The whole amphitheater of the canyon
is singing in perfect harmony
guided only by their circadian rhythms.
A barn owl, comes screeching by, joining the chorus.
Motherly great horned owls sing their lullaby-
gently who-whooing us to sleep.
And we humans sleep, to the music of the night
with smiles on our gratified faces.
Virginia Nocturne
October 3rd, and the fireflies have all gone home.
I am not seeing their light show on this damp night.
But hush, listen-
for the Virginia nights have such cricketry!
The background of the crickets is heard in three different tones.
First, the baritone saxy sound that grounds the orchestra
with the bassy back beat.
The second layer, is like a telephone ringing and ringing
picking up the midtones.
The third layer is an uplifting chirp, a cheery “hello.”
Like a piccolo, used for punctuation.
The leaves on the trees haven’t started to change color or fall.
The forest around us is dense—so lush!
Breezes that come through
tickle every leaf on every tree
and every drop of water adds another layer
to the music of the night.
I hear a lonely loon on the pond
calling out for a mate. But there is no reply.
His finale, as I drift off to sleep.
Ravens
As the stormcloud rises, so do the ravens.
From the valley floor they come;
They surf the air, like great waves,
swinging wing to tail, making crazy 8s in the sky.
They are black chaos.
Their cacophony fills the gloaming
With some impending magic.
The first fat splats of rain hit the ground.
The ravens settle on rooftops, in treetops,
on fence posts, on lampposts
and they are silent.
Then suddenly, and without a sound,
they scatter and are gone.
But here, in the mystical minds of men
our superstitions are stirring,
And we are silent.
We hold our bated breaths
and are waiting. . .
waiting …
waiting …
Tumbled
Into the rapids I fell.
I am tumbled against the boulders
with every turn of the river.
I try to breathe in the short moments
my head is out of the raging water,
but all I can do is cough.
I try to grasp onto a branch
that would pull me back to my “used to be,”
but there is no hope
my arms are broken on the stones
floppy, useless.
I can feel the current tugging on me,
forcing me downstream.
Another tumble through the racing, cold water.
I am spinning out of control in the deep, and dark.
The rapids mellow into a deep pool.
And I float on my back with my broken limbs hanging down,
voiceless, from the water
waiting for a rescue that may never come.
Beautifully Broken
I am beautiful.
And I am broken.
Today I am a kaleidoscope turning—
bits of fractured glass and light.
So beautiful; yet so broken.
What will I be tomorrow?
I can see myself
as a lightning struck tree
all alone on a rocky outcropping.
Still beautiful; with branches blackened and broken.
As a beautifully destructive ice storm --
encasing everything with a crystalline glaze.
Throwing prisms into the dawning sun.
I am in the complete safety of the chrysalis I build around myself,
trying to shed this cancer like an old skin
twisting and turning around, ready to be reborn
into something totally new.
I am reviving.
I am evolving.
I am living.
I am joy.
And I am beautiful.
Wednesday, August 22, 2018
Jen's status
Wednesday, August 15, 2018
Another rough week
Jen has been having a lot of seizures over the last 6 days. She hasn't lost consciousness, but they haven't exactly been mild either. She's had about 10 seizures starting last Thursday. A couple have affected her right hand, and speech. Most caused facial twitching on her right side. We have unfortunately had to add a third seizure medication to her regimen. Hopefully once this med reaches a therapeutic dose, her seizures will be under better control. She is having increased difficulty with both her speech and coordination. Thursday before her first seizure she actually seemed to be doing okay - she worked out for 40 minutes earlier that day. Seizures usually result in lingering issues (increased confusion, speech difficulty, decreased motor coordination) that improve in the days following the cessation of neural activity. It's too soon to tell how much Jen will bounce back in the coming days.
Obviously we are concerned as to what is causing the increased activity. Continued cancer growth is probably the most likely cause. The Immunotherapy Jen had an infusion of last Monday could also be playing a role. She is still scheduled for surgery at City of Hope in 2 weeks. Right now 2 weeks seems like an eternity. Hopefully Jen can recover, keep her strength up, and won't have any major declines before then.
Her platelet levels have also continued to decline from the chemo a month ago. They seem to be leveling off and hopefully will begin rising again. Jen's sodium levels continue to remain on the low side and we are seeing a nephrologist this week to see if there is any underlying cause. Meanwhile, she has also begun taking a sodium tablet prescribed by her doctors. Beforehand we were told that a salt tablet wouldn't affect her sodium levels and now they have prescribed one. I still haven't been able to get any clear guidance on this whole issue. Hopefully the specialist Jen sees this week will help to elucidate the matter.
As you can imagine, this has been a pretty emotional week. Please keep us in your prayers.
On a happier thought, yesterday was the 31st anniversary of when Jen and I met. We both wish the present circumstances were different, but we're glad to have been able to spend the day together.