Donna G

Read the magazine and of course one on the chemo's they mention causing these problems was Cisplatin, which I had 2 rounds of ( one before surgery and one after) I already know I have neuropathy from it but I also am alive nearly 10 yrs later!Donna G

Welcome! I am so happy for you that at such a young age you found doctors willing to go all the way for you! Soon, very soon you will be celebrating one full year of survival! Let's have a party! Donna G

That sounds like good news. After I had chemo and radiation to my tumor it had shrunk but not disappeared. After surgery I asked about it and the doctor told me pathology just found scar tissue. I hope that is true with your Mom too if she decides on this option. Donna G

Just got home from work and found the "Cure" magazine, will read it this evening. I don't dought it though, traditional chemo is toxic not only to cancer but to all body cells, so they walk a fine line giving to us. They give enough to hopefully kill the cancer cells and not too many normal cells. Donna G

Connie, don't worry about the spelling! It should make you feel young. Young kids now don't have to learn to spell. They have computers to do spell check. You don't need to know how to add and subtract either, get a calculator ( where's spell check for that!) Connie the most important thing is we have your friendship and loving smile. Donna G

Saw this on the morning ABC News: This is sampling Excerpt: Dr. Bernadine Healy's "Living Time" March 27, 2007 — Dr. Bernadine Healy is perhaps best known for leading some of the largest, most respected medical institutions in the country. But on Valentine's Day 1999, she was dealt a blow that shattered her world. That was the night when Healy found out that she had brain cancer. Doctors gave her three months live without treatment. With chemotherapy, her chances increased to 18 months to two years. But eight years later, Healy is still thriving. Her book, "Living Time," is written from two perspectives — that of the physician and that of the patient — about her fight against brain cancer. She hopes it will help people diagnosed with the disease to realize that cancer isn't "dying time" — it's "living time." Read an excerpt from "Living Time" below: Chapter One A Valentine's Day SO THIS IS HOW I DIE. These words ran through my mind as I lay in the emergency room of the Cleveland Clinic on Valentine's Day, 1999. It was in the wee hours of the morning, a time I remembered all too well from my medical residency years at Johns Hopkins. That's when the ER would fill up with drunks and drug addicts, knife and gunshot casualties, car accident survivors, and early morning heart attack victims. Many years had passed since then, but now I was one of them, an emergency room patient in great distress. I had just received startling information that would forever change my life. Only a few hours earlier, my husband, Fred, and I were sitting up in bed watching the Oscar De La Hoya fight on HBO. At some point that I cannot recall, I passed out, only to awaken with the local rescue squad standing by our bed. I was confused. Why were they talking to Fred about my ambulance ride to the hospital? Why was my husband on the phone with his good friend Al Lerner, asking him to meet us in the emergency room? I protested that this was all unnecessary, that I felt entirely well. I had an overwhelming desire to stay and comfort our terrified twelve-year-old, Marie, trembling in the shadows, and to talk to Michele, my sister, who'd rushed over to be with her. Despite these protests, I soon found myself strapped to a narrow gurney in an ambulance with flashing lights, hurtling along dark, deserted streets into midtown Cleveland. Dr. Patrick Sweeney, the gentle, white-haired neurologist who was the attending physician that evening, met us in the ER, ready to perform the usual neurological tests for what my husband believed had been a seizure. Fred is a renowned cardiac surgeon and at the time was the director of the Cleveland Clinic, but he was pure husband that night. He listened attentively to Dr. Sweeney and acted as the best of spouses would, making sure I was comfortable, squeezing my hand, and calming my nerves with lighthearted jokes: "Hey, was this just your way of getting out of watching the prizefight?" But very shortly we found that my blackout had not been an inconsequential seizure after all. Fred knew first because he went off to huddle with the radiologist to review the brain scans. He stood quietly by, eyes swollen, as Dr. Sweeney brought me the shocking news: the spell had resulted from a good-sized tumor growing in the left side of my brain. I asked Dr. Sweeney if it was malignant. Leaning over the rail, peering into my eyes, he said simply, "Yes." Even though Fred and I have an uncanny ability to think the same thoughts at the same time, this was one moment when we could not bear to share those thoughts. After all, we always said we were goose and gander, mated for life; we wouldn't do well without each other. And all I could think was: So this is how I die. Not in a car accident or a plane crash, not felled by a heart attack in honor of my own medical specialty. It would be by my own cells, mutating and roaming inside my body — in my head, no less. I felt powerless and immobile. My own life's work with the critically ill brought me no special strength or solace; if anything, I knew too much. This cancer was insidious, already having grown to a near-fatal state in my brain without ever tipping me off. Not one hint. Here I was in the prime of life, and fairly diligent about all the healthy habits I had preached so reverently for decades. Though a cardiologist by training, I had also earned my stripes in the war on cancer: I was then the dean of the College of Medicine and Public Health at Ohio State University, where I had been expanding the school's cancer genetics program. Years before, I had headed the Research Institute of the Cleveland Clinic Foundation, where I built its first cancer biology department. And as director of the National Institutes of Health in the early 1990s, I oversaw the National Cancer Institute and participated in its 1991 celebration of twenty years of the National Cancer Act, which brought us the war on cancer. There I also immersed myself in the massive effort to unravel the human genome, which will have its greatest payoff in the area of cancer. And in the course of my life as a hands-on physician, I had cared for and consulted with patients who had had a brain tumor. I had every reason to know the meaning of my newly diagnosed illness. It was not good. At that long moment of discovery, looking up into the sad, drawn face of my husband, I knew that all of our medical expertise combined would not help us cope with this numbing news. No matter who we are, from whatever background, we all feel the same chill upon hearing the C word. It's a universal fact: when serious illness strikes, we are the same vulnerable souls. And so are our families. Returning home the next day, that became all too evident. Their world, too, suddenly becomes cloudy. It was hard to explain to those on the home front what still seemed inexplicable to us. To my ninety-eight-year-old mother-in-law, Nonie, who lived with us, this was bewildering news. Her "Bernie dear" was never sick. As for my mom, cancer was the thief that had taken my dad from us twenty years before, and it was not hard to see in her pale, stoic face that she knew what might be in store. How good it was that she had moved right next door to us several years before —

I don't believe it! I have turned into a Dixie! Born and raised in Boston and have lived the past 20 years in Minnesota! Those years between must have had a big influence on me. Ya'll hear? Donna G

Some people who joined the Pancoast tumor group have not been heard from for a long time! Gary ( wife is Grammy Bear) has not been heard from since sept. 03. Rita Bubb last heard from in june 03. Tracy last posted nov. 04. Keith not heard from since Sept. 03. Wish we knew what happened, hope they are fine and have just gone on with life. Donna G

We need a pancoast tumor survivors meeting! Calling Calintay, mhutch1366, Kasey, rita, laurene Relyag, tracy, Rocco, Rita and all others! Donna G

For those of us who had open thorocotomies http://www.hmcnet.harvard.edu/brighampa ... otomy.html Donna G

So sorry you are having such a bad experience. I am a nurse and I can tell you when I have been a patient it has happened to me too! What I can not picture is having 6 nurses and 6 patients! Wow! Believe me the patient ratio where I work is no where near that! We have a "grid" that tells the charge nurse how much staff is allowed. I was put "on call" yesterday ( not that I am complaining) and paid 1/5 my salary to sit at home in case they had enough admissions to call me in. Even when I worked in ICU years ago I never remember having a one to one ratio! Hope Karen gets home today, there's no place like home Donna G

I wonder if anyone has studied whether people who smoke with high blood presure and take angiotensins are less likely to develop lung cancer. Seems like someone could look at those people now. Donna G

Hello, glad you found us. If you can, fill us in with more details. What treatment did the Dr. recommend? Has it spread out of the lungs? The good thing your fiancee has going for him is the fact he is young and healthy! People do survive this, why not him? I did. I have past 9 years and still ned ( no evidence of disease) Keep us posted. For most of us the next few months are tough but this too will pass. Donna G

Such sad news. I am so sorry. I pray for you and the family for peace during this most difficult time. Donna G

HE'S HOME! Any more snow is his job now! I am working this weekend and he is not. Donna G

Hi Diana. Welcome. Keep us posted on how things are going. Donna G

It is happening again! More snow! We may get up to 18 more inches. We got a couple during the night and it was really, really heavy and wet stuff. It is still snowing. My hubby was suppose to fly home tomorrow, boy I hope his plane gets here! Donna G

Wendy I am so glad you can celebrate 3 yrs of conquering this beast! You are special to this group and to all of us up here in Minnesota Donna G

I was just thinking. IT WAS 9 YEARS AGO THIS MONTH THAT I WAS RECOVERING FROM A THORACOTOMY ! Looking forward to another round of chemo! Now look at me! Running a snow blower and doing all the clean up shoveling all by myself! Donna G

We here in Minnesota are getting a little snow! - a foot or so. My husband who is away on business sent me a 2 page email on how to start the snow blower. ( that is his job) I got it going and got the worst of the snow off the driveway and sidewalk, and back porch. They already plowed the street so ---who knows I may still be able to go to church today! Donna G

I see your surgery is only a few days off, the 26th on Monday. Wishing you the best. I did it , it can be done. Donna G

Me too! Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night soaked! Also got instant menopause, never had missed then with chemo, never saw it again. This too will pass, I hope! Donna G

I am so sorry to hear this. I hope they continue his golf event in his memory. Donna G

In my case I had chemo and radiation but there schedule is different...........radiation was 5 days a week, Cisplatin was at most 1 day a week and Etoposide a couple, not every day. Perhaps it is different with the drugs he is on. Mine were during the same "period of time" but not always on the same days. They told me the chemo made the radiation more effective Donna G

Boy I do hope they do screen for lung cancer. When you consider those coming of age to develop the disease all did mandatory service for our country. During this service to get a "break" you had to smoke, "Smoke em if you have em" was called out to the men. The service even gave out free cigarettes to keep them happy at certain times. I know when my husband served ( Vietnam Era) they has "Sea Stores". He was in the Navy and aboard ship at sea, a carton of cigarettes cost $1.00, yes that comes to ten cents a pack! Would you think that would be encouraging smoking? Donna G