Every day is a gift, sometimes I wish they would come with a gift receipt... 2/27/16

I began Thursday thinking I knew what my diagnosis and plan of attack were. But, in a wait theres more sort of way, we were informed things would change as the results from the second CT and MRI scans were reviewed. It seemed like a revolving door of doctors that day, 2 surgeons, the attending physician, oncology team, palliative care nurse practitioner, dietitian as well as a steady stream of nurses and visitors. Through the window in my door I could see the oncology team huddling like a murder of crows with stethoscopes. The length of time they spent outside my door gave us the impression things were about to change.

Throughout Thursday each doctor would come in for a consultation and they would introduce themselves to us again. Extending their hand, drop a bomb, KAPOW! Bad news. Say it was nice to meet you, shake our hands again and walk out. With each KAPOW, my diagnose grew dimmer and dimmer.

Late Thursday afternoon it was time for my radiation consult to map my body for treatment. The pain was such, that on the trip down, every bump felt like a knockout punch to my guts. During the consult with the radiation oncologist the verbiage changed. We were no longer hearing positive words like cure, we heard for the first time "prolonged years of life." This was the biggest KAPOW yet. Bill asked what prolonged years of life meant, and the standard doctor answer was given... "undetermined". After being mapped for radiation treatment, I was moved back to my room, shell shocked from the most recent bomb to await the final consult of the day with the oncology team.

My once positive oncologist, looked somber. I knew he was going to dish out some more bad news. And yup, I was right. He confirmed the MRI findings with the radiologist and now had new news to tell us. The cancer is metastatic and has spread beyond the tumor, seeking new frontiers and more spacious greener pastures. After some further discussion we were left to digest the last KAPOW.

Stage IV Cancer.