Background and overview

I learnt more about the health system from being an inpatient than I had in 20 years of working as a neuropsychologist. I was unexpectedly diagnosed with two brain tumours on 4/9/13. They turned out to be grade IV Gliomas (glioblastoma multiforme (GBM)). After removal of the right parietal and left occipital tumours, I received the standard treatment under the Stupp protocol (combined Temozolamide (TMZ) and conformal radiotherapy 5 days/week for 6 weeks), but the TMZ had to be ceased after 5 weeks because I had started to develop pancytopenia, where more than one of my blood counts had begun to drop. By Christmas 2013, I had become anaemic and needed a couple of blood transfusions. I ended up in hospital for 3 weeks of the 2014 new year after experiencing my first seizure (suggestive of a right temporal lobe focus) on 31/12/13). They were so worried about my bone marrow, they did a biopsy. Luckily, it was all clear of any nasty disorders. It had just been suppressed by the TMZ My blood counts slowly returned to normal with daily injections of GCSF, which stimulate bone marrow function, for several months. For 17 months I was doing better each day, without any physical impairments or major cognitive problems A third brain tumour was found in the right temporal lobe on 2/1/15, and removed 6/1/15, only to reappear on 17/2/15 after I started to feel vague symptoms at the end of 2014. I had my 4th round of brain surgery on 1/3/15, followed by stereotaxic radio surgery of a residual, inoperable, tumour, on 17/4/15. I've been feeling like my old self again since that highly precise form of radiotherapy, and it feels fabulous.

My way of coping.
I choose to live in hope that everything will work out for the best. I've learnt that even though things are sometimes unpleasant, life and love go on forever. I put my faith in the life force that created and unites us all in love, across all time, space, and dimensions. I refuse to succumb to fear, which is an invention of our imaginations. There are an infinite number of things to fear, both in this world an in our imaginations, and most of them never eventuate. I choose not to dwell on them, and to focus instead on counting my many blessings, current and past, and to have faith and hope that if I look after the present moment, the future will look after itself.

If you're reading, and haven't been in touch, please don't be shy, send me a brief private message using the contact form on the right. It's nice to know who's out there. Blogging can leave me feeling a little isolated at times (I used to have recurrent dreams of being out on a limb over a canyon, or of starting to strip off in a crowded waiting room). Your emails are appreciated, although I can't necessarily answer all of them.


Tuesday, 23 June 2015

Good news from the latest scan (Tuesday 23 June 2015)

I had another MRI scan done this morning, and the radiologist let me have a look at it. It was a great relief to see that there weren't any new tumours evident anywhere. There were some small areas of enhancement (possible scar tissue) close to the four areas where I've had tumours removed before (left occipital, right parietal), and there may also have been some small areas of enhancement close to the places that had the stereotaxic radio surgery this year. None of this is unexpected, I think. Things that look white or "enhanced" on MRI scans have greater density than other areas in the brain. For example, blood vessels, scar tissue, and bone, look whiter than cerebrospinal fluid (csf). Swelling (aka oedema) and areas of lower density (e.g. the fluid in the ventricles, or around the hemispheres, or in the cerebral sulci) appear darker on MRI scans than areas of higher density.

So it was a great relief to see the scans after they were done today, and I'll be making sure that the scans are seen by the radiation oncologist and the neurosurgeon in Melbourne. I'm wondering if the areas of scar tissue need some small zaps of stereotaxic radio surgery, and hoping that I'm correct in thinking that there's nothing that needs brain surgery at the moment. I hope I never need brain surgery again.

I had my 6th, and possibly final, infusion of Avastin on Monday. My platelets had risen from 85 last week to 105 today, so they decided it was ok to continue with the treatment. If you look up "side effects of Avastin" on the internet, you'll find a whole list of symptoms, one of which is fatigue.

In an attempt to get over the fatigue, I am going to get on our treadmill every day, and I did 20 minutes at 4.5km/h this evening after dinner. I hope I sleep well as a result, though I did sleep well last night. There are a number of sources of evidence that daily exercise is very helpful in recovering from treatment for cancer, and I'm keep to do it, as I've become quite de-conditioned in my legs lately after a few weeks  where I spent a little too much time in bed. It's so hard to get the balance right. People have told me that I need to listen to the fatigue signals coming from my body, and to respond appropriately, though I've had to learn for myself that too much sleep in the daytime is not helpful.

I'm tired again now, so I want to get some time snuggling up with the boys in front of the television before they go to bed, not that it will happen soon. Nathaniel has just started practising his trumpet again, and he's getting a nice sound for someone who's only been learning for a few weeks. It will be interesting and hopefully enjoyable when his brother joins in on his trombone one day. I might even be able to play along on the piano, if they let me.

Anyway, that's it for a short update for tonight. Sleep awaits me, but I want to get some hugs from my boys first.