"24"--Part 1: Craig's Appointment

(Details from my vantage point to accompany Jill's post...)

Thursdays continue to stand apart from its sister days of the week. Sure as the sun rises, Thursday are filled with visits from Craig's home health nurse, visits to his urologic oncologist, and sometimes admittance to the hospital ER. Last Thursday was no exception, yet there was one big difference that would set that day apart from the rest of Thursdays. It was that day when we'd learn whether Craig's latest chemo had turned the corner on tumor progression or if his cancer was still on the run. We never talked about it outside the contexts of oncology appointments and Dr. Flaig's words-"a significant branch point" in which we'd decide to stay the course, change chemo agents or discontinue treatment and let life take its course. There were no expectations or predictions going into Thursday's appointment. There wasn't even apprehension, it seemed, though I'm sure we held onto our breaths a bit more possessively, bracing for the worst. No one could have expected or predicted the events that would mark that day, and the images that would be branded on the back of our eyelids sure to be relived at the moment of 'eyes shut'.

I was to fly back to DC that morning, so I seized once last opportunity to chat with Craig, worrying when the next moment would be before we could be face to face again. As we waited for Emily, Craig and I chatted about his experience-thoughts and feelings. We also talked about Mom, and he mentioned how difficult it is to know that only a few months ago, he would have been able to help move her, help her with the toilet, and now he can't. We teared up together. How unforgiving and cutthroat a cancer to take normalcy and suffocate it so abruptly--to make moments of vitality, humor, and health ‘expensive' commodities that can yield significant tradeoffs of fatigue, nausea and pain. Going into Thursday's appointment, we hoped that the balance would finally turn in Craig's favor, and that the tumors had not grown THAT much--if at all.

Craig, Emily and I arrived before Mom, Dad, Diane and Jill. They were still at Mom's nutrition appointment that began at 1 and were clearly running late. Once in the patient room, Jennifer-Dr. Flaig's nurse-performed her standard medication reconciliation with me, took Craig's weight revealing that he had dropped another pound, and drew blood for labs. The mood was lighthearted with a hint of tension. Soon enough, Dr. Flaig floated in as if walking on air. He seemed a bit more upbeat, a bit more relieved as if FINALLY he had something good to share with one of his most deserving patients. He began by saying that the tumors looked stable, as Jill mentioned in her post. (The rest of the family joined just in time to hear him discuss the results more fully). The relative size of the larger tumors served as landmarks for Dr. Flaig to direct his conclusions, since the CT scan didn't provide the sharpest granularity. Still, he could say with confidence that the big guys had deflated a bit in the weeks Craig had taken Sorafenib. Sure, some tumors may have grown marginally and the little guys may not have necessarily been accounted for, but the fluid in Craig's abdomen appeared to have decreased and it seems the big tumors had reached a plateau, renewing Sorafenib's 4-6 week contract for the job. All in all, it was exceptional news, drawing applause and cheers as it was received.

After the appointment, I stayed back to book Craig's next appointment and fill his prescriptions, while Diane and Jill took Mom to the restroom. Perhaps serendipitously, I became annoyed with the long pharmacy line and double-backed to join Diane and Jill with helping Mom. Bathroom activities evolved normally. We wiped her, drew up her pants, placed her on the wheelchair-all over a lively conversation regarding Craig's good news. We wheeled Mom out and began washing her hands without any one moment being noticeably different from the next, until we noticed something amiss-a development that would terrify us for the next 24 hours...

~E