The collapsing ground

A brief urgent medical update

Everything is suddenly happening terrifyingly fast, so I am sending you all a very brief update while I can. It is possible I will not be able to write next week. Yesterday I was too sick to eat. I took a walk up the mountain, feeling I was going to vomit the entire time. Tim drove me to my scheduled scan and oncology appointment in Montpellier. The first thing my oncologist said was that there were at least 5 litres of ascites in my belly, which is why I look pregnant. Ascites, for those who don’t know, refers to an abnormal buildup of fluid in the abdomen between the peritoneum and the organs usually caused by liver failure or cancer. I knew this was the situation before my doctor told me because I know my body. When I said to people, this isn’t my body, this scares me, they sometimes mistook this for fear that I look fat. Just for the record, I am not worried I am fat. I am worried the cancer is growing. And I am, alas, not wrong. I have known since August.

Dr. D’Hondt said that we cannot wait to start chemo any longer, because I am at risk of an immediate occlusion in my bowels. She is trying to organize it to start as soon as possible next week. In the meantime, today I need to go to a different cancer hospital with an emergency room to get the ascites drained as there are no available appointments at my hospital. The abdominal pain and pressure is too much; I feel I can’t breathe and even getting liquids down is hard.

The worst news is that while Dr. D’Hondt says my cancer is clearly suffused throughout my bowel and peritoneum, there is not a tumor or lesion greater than 1 centimeter. Meaning I cannot qualify for a trial. It is too late anyway, given the state of my abdomen. I asked if this means I will never qualify for a trial, because my cancer has twice recurred in this same “sprinkling my insides liberally with malignant sand” way, not as a solid tumor. She could not answer me. Or didn’t want to.

Basically, if taxol doesn’t work next week, I suddenly don’t have any time left at all. We had to tell Theo this last night. I don’t know what to do about her school or how to plan anything or organize my office in time or finish my letters to Theo. I thought I would have longer. It is still possible. I am praying that taxol works. It worked the first time, just for not long enough. I need it to work. More importantly, far more importantly, my daughter needs it to work. She has been struggling with other things recently, and frankly the death of her mother is the last thing she needs. I worry about Tim as well. He has too much on his hands. I don’t know how we are going to manage everything we need to. Who is going to have time to buy the cat food, cook dinner, clean the house, cancel all my subscriptions, organize our finances, send emails? I am hoping chemo does not make me too sick to do these things. There is so much I need to get done. That does not begin to cover it. There is so much more work I need to do in this world, so many people to love.

I hope I will be able to write on Wednesday. I have other things I want to write for you, not just cancer things. Bon courage to all of you enduring similar struggles. I send you love.