Here's a bit of an update!

It's been over a month since I put a post on the blog. Thank you to so many of you who have called me or sent emails or cards wondering how things were going. I appreciate your notes so much.

In March, about a month after the cyberknife, I had a PET scan. (There will be another one in May.) You may recall that I mentioned the cyberknife may take anywhere between four months to a year to determine its effectiveness. Well, the one in March indicated there was already significant decrease in the size of two of the liver tumors. The third tumor showed some decrease, although not as significant. We'll know a little more in May when I meet with Dr. Chu and Dr. Moreland following the May PET scan.

That was good news, but the March scan also showed some disappointing things as well. Tumors were developing on two of my lymph nodes, on two spots in the peritoneum (lining of the abdomen), and another spot on my spleen. In addition to that my CA-125 shot up over 1,000. Dr. Hudhud made the decision to put me back on chemo right away -- two drugs -- Cisplatin and Gemzar. He mentioned that these are both pretty strong drugs, and that it would be hard to stay on a regular schedule with it as they tend to affect blood counts. Since my body has always been able to handle chemo with little to no side affects, I was pretty confident that all would be "easy going." Well, that hasn't been the case. My blood counts -- platelets, red, and white blood cells -- just won't cooperate. And with low blood counts, the chemo has to wait.

In the past five weeks, I've only been able to have chemo two times. One of those was reduced potency, and still the next week (that would be today), everything is too low. In fact, today, the platelets are so low, I have to go to the hospital for a platelet transfusion. Shots today and shots tomorrow to build up the count so I can have chemo next Tuesday. This is where I need your prayers. Please pray that these counts would be so stimulated by all the extra support they are getting from Procrit, Neulasta, and the platelet transfusion that chemo would be an easy decision next Tuesday.

The exhaustion continues. I've always worn out early in the evening, but now it is absolutely ridiculous. I come home, fix a little dinner, sit down and eat, get comfortable in my LazyBoy recliner, and I'm out for two or three hours. Just can't get up and do anything... until it's time for bed. Dr. Hudhud told me that the chemo is responsible for the exhaustion... and, obviously, the low blood counts are connected to this as well.

Thanks for your prayers.... I look forward to my next post sharing some upbeat news about how God has answered these prayers.

Where've I Been?

You know, sometimes things just seem to go into a "limbo" mode for a while, and that pretty well describes where I've been for about three weeks. I seem to have been TOTALLY exhausted when I got home from school, and as soon as I sat down, I was off in "snooze land." Don't know if I can blame this on the Cyberknife, or not. The doctors at Sinai told me that radiation does make you "mildly fatigued," but I would put my fatigue after a day at work in the "tremendously fatigued" category. Clint has been fortunate to get a few sentences out of me before I've been off in dream land. But, with the time change today, I can already tell that the sunlight in the evening will give me a little extra boost of energy. At least, I hope so.

Take a look at the photo. Look closely and you'll notice it's a coconut. Two of my wonderful "nutty" friends took a quick vacation to Florida over President's Day weekend, and they MAILED (yes, US MAIL) the coconut to me. The "return address" said, "From 2 nuts, to 1 nut. " So true! But, what fun we had, the day the coconut arrived at school. It was really just a bit like being in Florida myself.

Since the first week that my friends at Spring Ridge Elementary School and my friends throughout the Frederick County Public Schools system found out I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in February of 2006, I've been blessed repeatedly... again, and again... with friends who have helped me know that I am loved and prayed and cared for. That my two buddies took the time to discover the coconut, concoct the idea, and find a post office that would "post" it (be sure and look closely at the stamp held on with staples)... this meant so much to me. Thanks, Donna and Betsy! And, thanks to all of you who continue to email me, send cards, ask how I'm doing, and listen when I tell you! You are an amazing lifeline to me!

Me and the CK Robot

Here I am with my new friend, the Cyberknife robot. Shall I call him Roby? And, check out the referee vest. This is what it looks like as I'm getting hooked up and positioned on the table. Clint was allowed to come in and take a few pictures. Once I lie down on the table, and get settled into the cradle, I don't move until everything is over. Total time is about two hours. I was a little nervous about holding still for that long, but it's amazing what you can do when you set your mind to something.



After I lie down, the sensors are hooked up to the white stripes on the vest, and the "arm" that senses my breathing is directed toward me and the robot. Next, the technician wraps my arms, legs, and feet in those wonderful heated blankets, leaving my referee vest uncovered. This allows the breathing sensor to send a message from my vest to the robot during the treatment, causing the robot to adjust the shooting of the radiation to match my breathing.

Next, my CDs are put in a CD player (that really make the time pass faster), and the technician does the final positioning of my body. The table moves up and down, back and forth, and the tech actually comes in the room and moves me physically a little to the left or right. I'm not quite sure how it is all done, but there are several lasers beaming across me during this part of the set-up. All this assures that everything is positioned exactly like the CT and PET scans I had last week. This part takes about 15 minutes. Either a physicist or surgeon must be present for the final go-ahead, and then the big, lead door slowly closes. The door is about ten inches thick. This is the big signal that the treatment is about to begin.

Michael, yesterday's technician, explained to me that Roby, the CK robot, will follow the exact pattern each day. So, my treatments are all the same. I had a treatment on Thursday, and one yesterday (Friday). My final treatment is Monday afternoon. So far, I'm feeling fine, just very tired, with some pain in my back. Gratefully, Tylenol takes care of that discomfort. I have to take an anti-nausea pill each day before the treatment, but have had no problem with nausea. Mostly, I sleep and think of reasons why ice-cream will make me feel better!

Yesterday as I was leaving, Michael, the tech, told me I get to take my referee shirt home with me. I guess this means I will need to brush up on the rules of football or basketball so I can use my shirt. I've been wondering what part-time job I could work into next year after retirement, so perhaps this is my answer! Okay, let's see, no tripping the guy with the football, right? Free throw! or... It's not nice to bump into the guy with the basketball who is trying to make a basket... five yard penalty! Do I have it right?

Thanks for your prayers that Cyberknife does what it's supposed to do -- kill those three tumors on my liver. We are so grateful for this opportunity -- just imagine... surgery... with no wound or major recovery problems. I go back to work on Tuesday! Our experience with Sinai Hospital staff has been very pleasant and inviting. They have made a rather complex process into a simple step-by-step procedure, and we praise God that this procedure was made available to us. Keep praying.

Got the Call!

We got the phone call today. JoAnn, our cyberknife coordinator, called today to tell me that Dr. Chu had been in to contour my films, so the radiology oncology team is ready for me to come in for my first treatment. Hearing that term, "contour," forced me to ask JoAnn if there was any way they might be planning to "contour my body." Fortunately, JoAnn has a sense of humor and assured me that if contours of the body were possible, she would have already taken care of that for herself.


The scheduled first treatment with the cyberknife is planned for Thursday of this week, February 7. No other dates are confirmed at this time, but since they try to get all the treatments in quickly, it is likely I will go in on Friday and probably Monday. JoAnn told me that the treatments will be from three to five days, approximately two hours each. As I learn more, I'll put it on this site.


Thanks to Clint who tirelessly drives me to my appointments and waits patiently for me to complete my treatments. He's just terrific!

Sick With a Cold

Take a look at the photo and you'll get a good idea of what I've been up to for the past week and a half. Don't know if I had an old-fashioned or new-fashioned cold, but whatever it was, I ran a fever for three days, controllable down to the 99s only with Tylenol. As soon as the Tylenol wore off, then the temp edged its way back up to 100 and 101. After three days of "no improvement," I started in on an antibiotic and the fever went away immediately. However, the cold continued. Note that the Kleenex box is completely empty. It was opened "brand new" on the first day of the cold, so you can see that I am doing my best to keep Kimberly-Clark in business. Unfortunately, I missed three days of school because of this nasty little cold, but since returning to school on Monday, I've felt fine... although Kleenex box #2 is slowly diminishing as well. We're using lots and lots of hand sanitizer!


During this time I've had the cold we've also been making progress on the Cyberknife procedures. The fiducials were implanted on Monday, January 21st. There were no complications or problems at all with this procedure. Then on Wednesday of this past week, January 30th, we went back to Sinai Hospital in Baltimore for the PET and CT scans in preparation for the "surgical" radiation -- the actual Cyberknife treatments.


We arrived at the hospital Wednesday morning just in time for my appointment at 10:00. I was outfitted with an IV and dutifully drank my pre-CT scan juice! (Yummy!!) Then the technicians fitted me with my breathing vest for the Cyberknife and the "cradle" that will be used for all the cyberknife treatments. The breathing vest is actually more like an Under-Armour shirt. It looks a little like a referee's shirt and is made of some sort of very comfortable Spandex-like material. It has black and white strips with leads of some sort on the front that, I guess, radio-signal my breathing to the Cyberknife robot. (For those of you who have ever had a chest CT scan and have had to hold your breath for what seems to be an eternity, you can appreciate this vest. No breath-holding!)


In addition to the vest, my "cradle" was set up. The material felt something like a bean bag when I laid down in it. The technician wiggled me around on it here and there, positioned my arms, and then applied heat followed by the creation of a vacuum, and then when it cooled down, there it was... the cradle that will assure I retain the same position for each of the treatments. From that point on, all the scans I had on Wednesday were done with me in the cradle maintaining that same, consistent position. Except for about an hour and a half in the middle of the day, I was either getting ready for, being injected with contrast and waiting, or lying perfectly still on the scanner table until 4:00 in the afternoon. Since I had had nothing to eat or drink during this time, and had a raging "no caffeine" headache when I came out from the radiology section to the waiting room, I glanced at Clint with a look of despair and said, "Take me to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee... now!" Poor thing, he'd been sitting there waiting for me all day long as well. However, he was more than happy to get me to a cup of coffee. :-)


We are waiting now for the go-ahead dates for the actual Cyberknife. Dr. Chu is my oncology surgeon. He must review all the films from Wednesday, and meet with the radiology oncologists to determine how they will attack the three tumors in my liver. Then they will program the computer to tell the robot what to do, and finally, the robot and I will get together for a little morning or afternoon soiree! We were told by Dr. Coleman, one of the radiology oncologists at Sinai, that I would probably receive treatments on 2-3 days (all within the same week) and that the treatments may last anywhere from 90 minutes to three hours.


While we aren't certain WHEN I'll be called to Sinai for my first treatment, we are hoping that it could be as early as next Wednesday, February 6. More likely, however, it will be the following week. We'll try to take some photos of the set-up and the robot to share on this site. Please keep this process in your prayers -- the calculations and configurations must be right so that only the bad tumors are killed. We ask special prayers for the doctors -- it's just so amazing what medical science is able to accomplish now! But, we believe that God directs their thoughts and gives them the wisdom to make the right decisions. We trust that God is in control. What comfort and assurance this gives us as we face the next few weeks. Thanks for your prayers.

Fiducial Placement on Monday

Here's a photo I found on-line of the type of fiducials that will be implanted on Monday. Yes, the first step in Cyberknife has started. I'm scheduled for the surgical procedure as an outpatient at Sinai Hospital in Baltimore on Monday morning at 11:00 am. This photo gives us a good idea of the size of the gold seeds (the four straight bars on the right) that will be placed in and around the liver tumors. We understand that the procedure will be done much like a needle biopsy. I won't even have to miss a day of school for this procedure as it is being done on a holiday. I should be back at work on Tuesday with little to no side-effects. This radiosurgery is absolutely amazing! More later!

Lovely Snowfall

This is the beautiful scene we awoke to on Friday morning. We weren't expecting a big snow, but God surprised us with his handiwork. Clint took this picture from our deck, looking across to the mountains. There was also a light fog in the air, so the entire area looked like a mystical wonderland. But, then... of course, it was off to work, and the "mystical" gave way to reality.

All the children at school were disappointed that we didn't have a snow day, but as the day developed and the temperature warmed up to almost 40 degrees, we enjoyed the day at school. It was especially fun for me as my school celebrated another "Guthrie Day," when everyone in the school dons the Orioles tee-shirt with the name Guthrie on back. (I am being so spoiled this year.) The children have been working on rewriting the words to long-time familiar songs using instruments and rhythm. The words were all about me, including some of my favorite expressions... such as "doing our best every day and every way" and "scrumptious golden corn." And included some details about my life outside of school, including my Subaru, Harry the dog, born in Texas, and travel around the world. We held a whole school assembly, and each grade from kindergarten through fifth grade performed a song. Clint was there, and enjoyed the little ones as well. As soon as I have some photos to share I'll post them.