"Houston, we have a problem........"

July 6, 2005

As the anniversary this month of the 1969 landing on the moon approaches, I clearly recall staying up very late to watch the TV coverage of the astronauts hit golf balls and bound across the moon. I remember thinking (through my patriotic tears) that if “we” could accomplish such a Herculean task as that, surely a world free of disease and wars could not be far off—we could do anything. Then came Apollo 13. A blasé American public suddenly woke up and held their breath until the three men in that capsule returned safely to Earth. I firmly believe it was God’s hands that brought them back; it was God, the Master Engineer, who guided the rocket scientists and engineers to design a contraption to keep them alive. It was God’s work, not the Government. And the wars and disease continued.

After our appointment with Earl’s surgeon, Dr. Warren, and our respite in the Rush library, we kept the appointment with Dr. Abrams, the Chair of the Oncology Dept. at Rush Medical Center. This office was different: I’m not sure how to describe it, but you could tell it was designed for patients who are more seriously ill than the average patient and quite large. Besides being just steps away from the ground-level door and special parking for patients, there was a smaller room with a round table and chairs (like for playing cards) and a large room with a widescreen TV, and bookshelves from floor to ceiling with hard-cover and paperback novels. After filling out several pages of forms (again) we were taken back through doors with yellow & black radiation symbols on them and Earl was weighed. He has, of course, lost more weight – I believe it was 115. The nurse asked some more questions, took temp & B/P and said the resident would be in shortly to do an exam, and then Dr. Abrams would come in.

The same resident that talked to us in the hospital when Dr. Abrams was unable to make it, Neil Seif, came in with a female student and talked to us and examined Earl. After some general discussion of Earl’s physical & mental state, they both left the small exam room. Shortly after, I heard Neil speaking outside the door in a muffled voice and soon Neil, the female student and Dr. Abrams came in. This was the first time we saw Dr. Abrams, and I immediately noticed the black cap on his head, the confirmation of his strong Jewish faith and the reason he was unable to see us after sundown the Friday we were in the hospital. He wasted no time, but yet was very considerate, calling Earl “sir”, talking the whole time he was showing the female student how to palpitate Earl’s liver. He asked us how long it had taken us to drive there (approximately 80-85 minutes) and were we seeing a doctor in our hometown? We explained of the appointment on Friday with Dr. Klein in Porter, IN and how we were trying to learn as much as we could and gather as much information as possible to make an informed choice of treatment. (Translation: blind squirrel theory)
Earl sat in the chair next to me, and Dr. Abrams then sat down on the exam table and said, and I quote, “We’ve got a heap of trouble here.” He said that Neil had also discovered a swollen lymph node on the left side of Earl’s chest, below his neck that had not been noted previously. He spoke of the downside of the treatment, versus “quality of life”, and generally did not give us the encouragement we had been hoping for so desperately. He said he did not feel that radiation was the best choice at this point; also, the course of treatment would be 5 days a week, for 5 to 6 weeks, and if it was given at Rush, it would mean close to a 3 hour a day round trip, which would further tire Earl. I told Earl that we could do it, if that is what he wanted. We have many people who would help us out, etc. The doctor then asked us what we understood about this and what we were feeling. Earl turned to me with his beautiful gray-green eyes (one of the first things that made me fall in love with him) and expectantly waited for me to speak. I tearfully and hesitantly said that, at this point, I felt we needed a miracle and that we probably would be lucky if we had a year. I immediately wanted to take back the second part of the statement (maybe if we don’t actually say it out loud, it won’t happen.) Unfortunately, Dr. Abrams looked me straight in the eye and said I was a “very smart woman.” I was never so unhappy in my life to be “right” as I was in that office. As he handed me a new box of tissue, he apologized in an attempt to console us (me, really, as Earl just sat stoically, still in the exam gown.) He then said he wanted the name and number of Dr. Klein, and said he would call and discuss his findings with her. I then started babbling about how this man next to me was such an accomplished musician, a gifted guitar player......... My mind was screaming that they can’t just tell us these terrible things, send us on our way and cluck their tongues and shake their heads! They have to KNOW this man! Earl just put his hand on my arm, wearily shook his head, and gently said, “Don’t do this…” I knew he was right; I also know that I am not the first person to fall apart in that same exam room.

We left the office and after another pain pill, drove home in silence, each of us with our private thoughts. Earl dozed while I drove home, trying to think of anything that would not make me cry. I kept thinking of all the benefits that we were told would come out of the NASA space program, and all I could think of was Mylar balloons and Tang. It certainly has NOT stopped the wars, and my husband is one of many who are proof that man has a long way to go in the fight against this devastating disease.

Friday, July 8

It was hot when we drove to Dr. Klein’s office, north of the expressway on the Rt. 49 bypass. We were shown to an exam office with a comfy loveseat that Earl sat on – I sat on the chair next to him. A nurse took some information, then a nurse practitioner came in for a more in-depth interview. Earl napped while waiting for Dr. Klein. She came in, sat down & said she had talked to Dr. Abrams and then asked Earl a few more questions and we discussed visits with the previous doctors. She said that the chemo is a 5 day therapy that starts with 23 hours in the hospital and continues out-patient with an infusion pump. Earl asked if the treatment would allow him to eat. Dr. Klein said she does not know that for sure, but a successful treatment may shrink the tumor. She gave us the names of several local surgeons from whom she would accept a Port-a-cath. Since it was already 3:30 on Friday, we can check our insurance plan and get back to her receptionist on Monday. Earl was scheduled for the first available CT scan on Monday, July 11, and will also get some blood tests, both as a baseline before the chemo begins. My sister graciously offered to take Earl for the tests at the Portage Hospital location so I could work most of Monday. I am trying to work when possible; Earl insisted I get out of the house and said he needs time alone, also.

As I finish writing this at 12:50 pm on July 11, I am again overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of friends (and I include relatives in that!). Just last Saturday, Jonathan told Earl & I of the account that was set up at Centier Bank, started by my neighbor, Rhonda, who works there. I was surprised and totally overcome with emotion. Earl and I hope that one day we will both personally be able to thank everyone who sent a card or gift or simply said a prayer. Until that time, please accept our sincere gratitude and love.