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This weekend was the biggest weekend of the year in the tiny town I live just outside of. There are parades of all types,a carnival, an art show, music. It is just a huge fun weekend.

My husband, Tony, and I typically spend a lot of time in town watching the parades, the fireworks, seeing people, hanging out with friends. We talk a lot, goof off, and other than not staying out until 4 AM, we act like we’re 18 again.

All weekend long kidney cancer was the last thing on my mind.  Oh, sure, I had to deal with the lymphedema in my leg which is related to the nephrectomy, but, other than that I didn’t think about it.

It was absolutely freeing.  Today though was back to my routine, pumping my leg, reading kidney cancer research, and learning that we lost a couple of our fellow survivors over the weekend.  I am sad for their families and that makes me want to push even harder for more research and a cure for this disease.

Hello all, I’m sorry I haven’t posted much my blood family, and chosen family, have been going through some bad things and I had my head wrapped in that.  I’ll post more about that on my main site: MutteringFooldotCom.

Also, thank you all for the encouragement on my last post.  I really am disappointed in the KCA and how they are so anti health care reform.  I have tried commenting a couple more times on their Facebook page but, my comments always seem to go poof.

Now, on with the show… Or entry, that is.

I was diagnosed at 33 years old with my kidney cancer.  It took a few weeks, two CT scans and one MRI before I got a definite diagnosis of renal cell carcinoma clear type.  My doctors just didn’t want to believe that a young woman would have kidney cancer.

In fact when I went looking for statistics it was hard to get many firm numbers about young women with kidney cancer and their survival rates.  Now, I try not to think of statistics so much due to the fact that statistics don’t mean much to one individual.  At the start of this journey though I wanted to know the chances of making it one year, five years, twenty years.  In fact until recently I as still on edge about the twenty year statistics as the statistics for twenty year survival rates is only 50% make it.

50%.  I was 33 at diagnosis, 20 years would only put me at 53.  Yes, scary.  That is until you realize that RCC is mainly an older persons disease.  The majority of people diagnosed are over 60, many well over 60.  So, yeah, it would make sense that the survival rate at 2o years is dismal.  If someone is diagnosed at 70, well, that would put them at 90 if they made it 20 years.  That made the statistics less meaningful to many of us kidney cancer survivors.  Not to mention the advances in drug therapies for metastatic RCC which have only existed a few years, really.  We have a much better chance of true long term survival now.
Let’s get back to my original thoughts, young and a cancer survivor.  And, yes 33 year old at diagnosis is considered a young cancer survivor for those of my readers in their 20s.  We’re even part of the demographic I[2]Y focuses on.  There are more of us young cancer survivors than ever.

It just doesn’t seem like there are many around me.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not wishing this on anyone.  I just wish I had local people around my age for support.  It would be nice to have some other people that understand.  Sure there are my online support, which many are fantastic, but, it would be nice to have a support group to actually meet with in real life.

My family and friends are fantastic as well, but, they can’t understand it.  I really don’t think anyone who has never had those words said, you know those, “You have cancer,”  knows what it is like.  They can try and get into the mindset but, as all of you who have heard those words know it is more than just scary, it is terrifying and life changing.  On that September day my life changed.  I am still Suzy but, I am a slightly different Suzy than I was.

I want to talk about this kind of thing face to face with others.  I want to be able to celebrate with other survivors as we get our next clear scans.  I want to be able to hug someone who gets bad news after a scan.

In fact, thinking on it, just because there isn’t a young survivors’ support group around here doesn’t mean there couldn’t be.  In fact, it would have to be in the closest city to me but, maybe, just maybe I should look into starting this myself.
Any words of wisdom?

I think it is a damn shame that the Kidney Cancer Association is so anti health care reform, especially when we have kidney cancer patients right this moment who can’t get care due to lack of insurance.  Unfortunately with there being 3 doctors and a Vice President of Centacor R&D on the board I shouldn’t be surprised by this.

It is a damn shame they don’t represent the actual people dealing with kidney cancer instead of protecting their own interests.

Cancer blogs

I just finished reading the archives of a blog of a young woman who is remission from Ewing’s Sarcoma in her hip.  Reading her story made me realize that I really do have some serious post cancer treatment issues.  I think about a reoccurrence a lot, in fact I am terrified of it.  I’m at 17 months 5 days post nephrectomy yet I still think about having kidney cancer every single day.

This can’t continue.  I mean it is okay if I look up things to learn more about RCC without obsessing over it killing me.  I just have to figure out how to get to that point.

Tony and I have talked before about being a cancer survivor and staying with the support groups and forums.  It can be very tough when you watch the cancer that you were diagnosed with take someone’s life.   Recently four people I know, or knew of, have died from kidney cancer. I am deeply sorry for their families, but, I do have to be honest that I am grateful that it is not me.

I am, I’m not going to lie.  Every day of life I have upon this earth I am grateful for now.  I am grateful for the days that are wonderful; I am grateful for the days that are bad.  I am happy to be here.
Yet, hearing about these deaths makes me pause.  How is it that mine was found at stage 1b, instead of 3 or 4 like so many cases of kidney cancer are?  How was I lucky enough to get cellulitis in my stomach, have a doctor that pushed me to get the CT scan, to the point of sending me in an ambulance to the other hospital, and have that mass found?

6 months before the mass was found I had been to a doctor about my back.  He wouldn’t look at my old x-rays or scan, he wanted an mri of my whole spine.  I refused it thinking that was a waste of my time.

More likely than not it would have been found then.  I didn’t go, yet, I was pushed back toward another scan that did find it.  I don’t know why I had the luck of it being found so early.  Every day I think of the kidney cancer warriors who have gone before me: The ones who didn’t find their cancer so early, or the ones who have no insurance and can’t get treatment.  The kidney cancer warriors who did clinical trials, the ones who tried all the (few) drugs available to us.  The ones who we have lost to kidney cancer.

One of us…

Every day recently someone I know online has been diagnosed with one cancer or another.  Or someone who was at NED stage has a scan that finds new mets.  It is sad, it makes me angry.  I want to scream at the sky that it isn’t fair that another person has to deal with this damn disease.

Screaming does not help though.  In fact, screaming makes things worse as I tend to focus back on kidney cancer, my kidney cancer, the tumor that was removed, hopefully without dropping any cells to hang around and wait.  I am at 19 months post diagnosis now, 16 months past my nephrectomy, yet so much of my life is still focused on this disease.

I try to move on.  I tried to quit reading the ACOR kidney cancer list.  That didn’t help, I still thought about it every day.  I stopped reading the forums, hadn’t read the blogs of fellow survivors/warriors, and I think that make it worse.  I was worried about my friends who are fighting this cancer, or other cancers.  I need to know they are ok.

It is 2.43 AM and I have been reading a long series about a 23 year old woman who had alveolar soft part sarcoma, a very rare form of cancer.  She died yesterday at the age of 28. (you can read her story here) I am still early in her process, she hasn’t started on interferon at the point I am at.  Every page I read though brings me closer to the conclusion which I already know.  Her cancer took her life.  She fought hard and it still got her.

That is the kind of thing that keeps me up at night.  I’m now 35, I was 33 at diagnosis.  I have lived more years than Alicia ever had, but, I am still terrified that RCC will sneak back and cut me down.

Most days I can keep my attitude positive and think that I am completely past this disease, then other nights the terror comes back.  It is a cold terror, one that sits on your chest, making breathing almost impossible. Tonight is one of those.

I will get passed this.  Tomorrow I will remember that I am a survivor, RCC does not control my life, but for tonight it has taken over my brain.

My Story

I had an incidental finding of a tumor back on September 9th. I was in the hospital having a ct scan done for cellulitis of the stomach and belly button. When they came to me with the findings they told me I had a large mass on my right kidney.

My first thought “Oh, shit.” I mmediately I went to my primary care dr, then a few days later to a nephrologis t, who then sent me immediately to urologist. Urologist number 1 was ready to do my surgery, then his hospital refused to do it. I’m a large woman, and they said they didn’t have the equipment to operate on me. Bull shit, as they have operated on me in the past, at a higher weight, as well as on my father who is a large man. My doctor is new to the area, not that far out of residency so they just were pushing him around. So, no problem, let’s try Johns Hopkins. That doctor was an asshole, prior to seeing me he had set what he wanted to do, cryoablatio n, Which, in a small tumor is acceptable. Mine was already well above the 4cm mark and not a candidate for that. Hi s statement “I had ONE patient who was larger, who I did an open nephrectomy on. He had a very hard time, spent a long time in rehab, it was very hard on him. He was much older than you but, it was hard.” O k, one patient my size, who was much older and you’re going to risk my life? I don’t think so.
We left Baltimore, drove to my original urologist (a several hour drive) and he got his surgery coordinator, Terri, on the case. He decided contacting his alma mater, and where he had his residency, was our next step. Now, by this point we are well toward the end of October, and I am obviously scared. We get into the next Dr. And, his junior surgeon was worried that the Attending/Senior surgeon would say no. His words to us were “Someone in academic medicine will do this surgery, if we won’t, these places might” And he listed a couple. Then we met his Sr. This Dr, let’s call him Dr. G, had a very thick accent, but, was understandable. He immediately agreed to do the surgery, although he was completely upfront with me on the risks. As was the junior when we went through step by step what would happen. In fact they warned me that if I did not get out of bed as soon as possible after the surgery I would die. Yeah, scare me to death.
So, now we’re into November, they set my surgery date for December 1, my preop appointment 3/4s into November. They checked me in the night before surgery for some other things. On December 1st, I woke up terrified with my husband in the room with me. My Mom showed up as they were moving me to preop. And, from there things begin to fly.
The nurses in preop were great as was the surgical team. The anesthesiologist was not, he was mean and harsh, and did a whole lot of work on intubating me, while I was awake, through my nose. This included ramming tubes into my nose, until I would scream from the pain, then pulling it out, trying again, and remarking that my nose was too small. This went on for quite some time. Unfortunately they gave me just enough versad to make me lose control of my reactions to pain but, not enough for me to be out of it. Now, I have had surgeries in the past, the most recent 13 months prior to this. They have never had a problem intubating me. This anesthesiologist saw fat and was automatically prejudiced against me.
Unfortunately, I am now 13 days out from surgery and my nose is still very painful and I am having bleeding on and off from it. That can be dealt with later though. Ok, so the surgery was the first, and only, scheduled for my surgery team as they knew it would be a long time to do my surgery. Well, it took them 1 hour and 45 minutes to get me positioned and prepped and decide their final incision but, the surgery itself only took just over 2 hours. Which is amazing for a full open radical nephrectomy on a large person. They did an incision not traditionally done for a nephrectomy and went in at the midline. My incision is from just under my breast bone, slightly to the left, down into my bellybutton. I have a long torso and it is a long incision.

The continuatio

n of my story: The day after surgery PT never came in so I was in bed with the leg pumpers on. (I know the proper term but, I hate those things.)

Day 2, PT got me into a chair, my nurse pulled my catheter, PT left. AND NEVER CAME BACK. So, I got myself up with my friendly IV pole and learned how to walk to the bathroom, use the toilet, and come back with that incision.

Day 3 PT comes in, again, to have me walk as far as I would have to in my house, then left, I never did see them again. I pushed myself to do the walking, the moving, as I wanted no blood clots or problems with healing.

Day 3 evening my drs mention going home in a day or so. I freak, as originally I was told a minimum of 2 weeks in the hospital. I am doing so well, that I won’t need it.

Day 4, they say I can go home but, I ask for one more night for my piece of mind as they were transitioning me from the PCA to oral pain meds. They have no problem with this, and get me onto oral meds that kill the pain. Since I had been on Vicodin long term for other pain, I needed a higher dose and they were completely understanding. Drs that treat your pain rock.

Day 5, home again, home again. A 2 hour bumpy drive but, man is coming home sweet.

Other things: All my nurses except one were fantastic. They treated me great, kept me up on the pain boluses with no issues, made sure I had ice chips, as long as I was npo (which was awhile.) Only 1 nurse upset me. She refused to bolus pain meds, kind of ignored me, and was just bristly. And, of course, she was the one orienting a new nurse. The new nurse I hope will be much more compassionate.

The dietary staff when I was finally allowed to have liquids and then food, were nice. They obviously have no idea of how to feed someone with type 2 diabetes and set me one plate with food I was allergic to on it but, they were still nice about it and made sure I had soup to replace it.

PT, nonexistent and neither my doctors nor I were happy about it. Had I not been as tough a person or as strong as I made myself be things could’ve been very bad in that manner. I do plan on writing that department head next week.

My doctors were fantastic. 2 of them were friends with my original urologist but, I don’t think that had anything to do with my treatment. The attending I didn’t see much but the other doctors I saw at least twice a day and they were very encouraging.

Today, I saw my original urologist to get every other staple removed, and to get the pathology, Stage T1b. So, big tumor but, encapsulated and not into the ureter. Great news in a battle that has been anything but great.

This was originally written very soon after my surgery.  I was much nicer about the nursing staff than I should have been as I had some issues with the nurses here.  Luckily the hospital I go to for my other care has much happier nurses.