July 1, 2010, was the day my life changed forever.
I was a married mother with two young son, Wes and Ross. My days consisted ride to work, taking my children to their extracurricular activities, prepare dinner and laundry.
In October 08, I began to feel a slight discomfort in the upper abdominal region. My family doctor told me that I had probably bruised a rib. As a pharmaceutical sales rep, the only thing was I raised my laptop and drug samples. However, you are questioning a doctor, right? So I do not have it.
There prescribed muscle relaxants and sent me on my way. The pain would stop for a few months, but in May 09, the pain was back with a vengeance. I could barely stand up. I was in the midst of celebrating high school my cousin, and I could not move.
Paralyzed with pain, I decided enough was enough and I am led me to the clinic after hours. The doctor touched my hand, and I almost jumped me the examination table. He said he was certain that it was gallstones and told me to go immediately to the emergency room. Later that night, after 4 hours in the emergency room, doubled over in pain, was diagnosed with Chlamydia.
What's New?
After an ultrasound and a pelvic exam, the doctor of the emergency was 99.9 percent sure I had a sexually transmitted disease. In the absence of official results, I am forced to live in agony, angry with my "cheating" husband for a weekend. On Tuesday, the results were finally faxed to me, and they were negative. God thank you for myself and my poor husband, I do not have Chlamydia.
Still in pain, I was on a quest to discover what was happening with my sick body. The only thing I remembered from my ER visit was that they found fluid around the liver. A search in the yellow pages, I found a gastroenterologist who was a liver expert.
He assured me that he would not stop until he gave me a good diagnosis. After several attempts, he sent me an MRI. Two hours after my test, I got a call.
With my heart in my stomach, I drove to the office and was told that more tumors were found. Because of the location, he was sure it was cancer of the ovary and sent me directly to an oncologist that day.
During my training to four blocks, my life began to flash before me. I became emotionally numb. How could this be? God, are you serious? My blood work was perfect, no blood pressure problems, nothing. The oncologist pressed around my stomach and told me it was stage III ovarian cancer probably because she could feel it.
"I want to live
A week later, I was in the office of another oncologist. It was the "best" surgical oncologist in town. My husband and I walked into a dimly lit waiting room with halogen floor lamps and the sound of "Amazing Grace" being played on the bagpipes. I thought: "How much more depressing it can be"
Faced with the idea of dying, I was desperate to find hope, and I knew I did not find it in a framework of . the funeral home
After my physical examination, we sat in the doctor's office for a consultation after a series of questions, he asked me.? "What do you do since you n ''re not in any pain at the moment, you can either wait until the pain comes back or we can perform exploration scope and to take all abnormalities. "
My husband and I were amazed he asked what I wanted to do. "I want to live!"
Childbirth, tumors and hernias
The consultation was in July, and I was not expected to reach the procedure until October 09.
Impatient, and determined not to let my progress stage III to stage IV, I made a few calls and was at MD Anderson in Houston in two weeks. Once at MD Anderson, I knew everything would be resolved.
I thought wrong.
After more barium fruit flavored and CT scans, I was told that the tumors were likely to deliver my children. According to this doctor, many women develop benign tumors after delivery. He emptied about 1 liter of liquid in my liver, and it was all benign - so no cancer
In June 2010, I was again inflated .. But this time I could hardly on my button trousers. I could not stand. I returned to my gastroenterologist and told him that the pain was back. Intrigued, his response was: "I do not know why you continue to get this fluid. I have another patient like you. Although it's rare, your blood count is normal. MD Anderson has given you the green light, so I do not worry about it, unless it's too painful. "
A week later, I told him the pain was unbearable, and he told me that I had probably developed an umbilical hernia. I was sent to an oncologist surgeon for repair hernia. at the time, I could not understand why, but then again, who questions the doctor?
Shocking Bains and diagnosis
I usually spend at least an hour every evenings in the tub, but for two weeks after my hernia repair, I had to take showers instead. It was finally time to visit the oncologist to get my bandages removed. the day was 1 July 2010. I worked a full day, and I was so looking forward to soak in my bath salts again!
While sitting on the examination table freezing to death, I am greeted by the oncologist and surgery his student. I wondered why he took a seat just to tell me it was OK to take baths instead of showers.
"Although repairing your hernia, I find a mass. I sent the tissue at two different laboratories, one of them being the Mayo Clinic, and they all came with the peritoneal mesothelioma diagnosis even :. "
again, my mind has left the building. It took everything in me not to cry. I refused to let this man see me have a collapse. I do not remember everything that was said after. I saw his lips move, and I even heard the words coming out of his mouth, but for some reason I could not understand it all
He said he was extremely rare -. So rare it is diagnosed only a few hundred times a year in the United States. The doctor was surprised by my age and started grilling me. I immediately remembered my old school was demolished because of asbestos exposure in the gym and other areas.
Dr. Silver and Asbestos.com
My single office visit turned into the worst day of my life. Of course, like everyone, I am tortured by "educating" myself about the disease on the Internet. According to Google, I had a year to live. Determined not to die, I was on a mission to be an exception.
My only chance of survival was to see a particular doctor I called Dr. Money. All my medical records were sent to Dr Money, and after reviewing my case so he agreed to see me. Most doctors offer free consultations, but not Dr. Money. He did not accept insurance and wanted $ 30,000 in advance for consulting fees. The $ 30,000 would be deducted from the total amount of the proceedings ($ 325,000).
My husband and I do not even $ 5,000 in the bank, let alone $ 30,000. My husband suggested we put our house up for sale. While I am grateful for the gesture, the total cost of our house was still not enough to cover the procedure.
At the time, I was a pharmaceutical sales rep. I consulted the powers that be, and they agreed to compensate Dr money at prime "networking". Thrilled with this news, I knew I was going to a miraculous healing.
No!
Dr. The woman money told me that, even at prime, he has not enough money. She told me to accommodate a couple of fundraisers and then call her back to schedule the procedure. How could anyone be so insensitive and nonchalant with someone who potentially has a year to live? I was upset, humiliated, angry, hysterical.
The Internet told me that I would die was the same Internet that led me to Asbestos.com. I called the 1-800 number and asked the nurse on staff if I had to die. "Who told you?" She asked.
I explained that my only chance to live was going to cost me $ 325,000. She said that financial assistance was available. She gave me the name and number of a doctor in Pittsburgh. I was on the next flight to Pittsburgh UPMC.
On 29 August 2010, I received my first CHIP procedure. I was away from my family for 3½ weeks. Pittsburgh became my new home. I woke my 10-hour procedure to tubes coming in and out of every part of my body. The doctor told me that everything was great and everything was removed. I returned the latter part of September, just in time for my son's 2nd birthday. November, December and January were spent receiving chemotherapy every 2 weeks.
Chemotherapy and Clinical Trials
Every two weeks, I remembered that all was not well in my world. I remembered that I could die. I was not normal. I was a young woman with a terminal illness. For six hours, I sit in the armchair La-Z-Boy in the Lounge Chemo with other chemo patients. Some were bald, cough, vomiting, sleeping, sick.
In March 2011, the tumors were back. The doctors gave me a new chemotherapy cocktail, but no luck. August 29, 2011, I returned to Pittsburg for another CHIP procedure. This time I knew what to expect; I was a pro. I went with no fear and without reserve. This time was the last time I was certain. After this procedure, I do not receive additional chemo because my body could not handle.
In December 2011, my CT scan revealed spots, but nothing to fear. In January 2012, these spots were twice the size and had managed to spread to new areas. Fan-tas-tic!
It was at this time that I received the famous speech, "There is nothing more we can do for you." I was told to find a clinical trial to attend. really? How does someone who is on the verge of death is left alone to find their own trial?
as if I did not have enough to worry about, now I had to find a test somewhere. Back to the Internet, I went. I did not have luck at all. I called MD Anderson, and they wanted me to see an internal medicine doctor first. I could not why in the world I would need to see a doctor of internal medicine. it was me 800 steps back instead of forward.
Frustrated by the backward movement, I grew tired of find someone willing to help me. While watching television, I saw an advertisement for the treatment Centers of America cancer. Fortunately, they treated peritoneal mesothelioma.
At Long Last, remission
I'm ready for a third HIPEC procedure if that was what it would take. My case was presented to the board of the tumor and because of the size and location of my tumor, a CHIP was not in my near future. I was given a new cocktail of chemotherapy every 21 days for three months.
On June 8, 2012, I was officially in remission! In disbelief, the doctor conducted an exploration field in August, and yet everything was clear. I'm in remission since.
Today I am the proud owner of Sugarbelle, bakery cupcake district in Baton Rouge, La. My children are 10 and 5. I am so grateful to have this opportunity to meet and share my experiences with those of you living the life I live.
I openly welcome you to my new blog. Together we will laugh, cry, share the hope, and above all, LIVE!
If you have a question or comment for me, leave it in the comments below or on Facebook .
