Two of the tubes were taken out today. A third one will come out tomorrow. And I should be able to drink a limited amount for the first time.Only baby steps, I know, but highly encouraging.
Pete visited me this evening. It's great to have such supportive, loving sons. I'm extremely proud of both of them.
Thursday, 30 September 2010
Synopsis until now
This is more for me than for anyone else, but perhaps there will be one or other cancer patient who wants to join me in a chat. Let me just give you a summary of my situation first.
I am a 59-year-old British-born male who has lived in Switzerland since 1974.
In April 2008, I found that I was suddenly having difficulty swallowing. I went to my family doctor who immediately sent me on to an ear, nose and throat specialist. As the weeks went by, I was shunted from one specialist to another, a constant stream of different doctors and machines. It was only in June that a neurologist, consulted about a different problem, gave me an MRI and discovered a tumour at the top of my throat.
I went for a full month of radiation and chemotherapy in the September. By October 2008, it appeared that the tumour had been conquered. On the other hand, the treatment destroyed all my teeth. 28 of them had to be reconstructed, a process that took until July 2010 to be completed. It also cost the equivalent of about £40,000!!
My wife Terenzia died suddenly and unexpectedly on Boxing Day 2008. It was without question the worst year of my life. But 2009 was difficult too. The Head of Gastroenterology discovered high-grade dysplastic tissue in my oesophagus 3 times. The first time, I was headed for another long bout of radiation and chemotherapy - another full month of it. After that, the body had taken as much as it possibly could. The next two cases of dysplasia were dealt with by means of mucosectomies (effectively scratching the dysplastic areas out of the oesophagus).
Just when I thought that things were finally under control, a "routine" check revealed that the original tumour had risen like a phoenix from the ashes. Now there was no choice other than to take out the entire oesophagus, together with the tumour and another two or three dysplastic zones.
The first attempt at the operation, on 17th September, was aborted because I was found to have cirrhosis of the liver. Mild by all reports, but enough to preclude removal of the entire oesophagus, or so they claimed at the time. I went home for a few days and then came back for a second attempt on the 24th September. This time, it worked. The operation took place on Monday 27th September and apparently took 9 1/2 hours, and that was just to remove the oesophagus. A second operation, to replace the missing bit with a stretch of small intestine, will take place at some time within the next 7 to 8 weeks.
So as I write this, I am in my hospital bed, in room D21 South of the University Hospital in Zurich and am hoping that this enormous exercise will give me a few more years of quality life. There is so much to live for, so much more to experience before my time is up. So I am fighting, much to the admiration of the staff here, and looking forward to being freed from hospital when the time is right.
I am a 59-year-old British-born male who has lived in Switzerland since 1974.
In April 2008, I found that I was suddenly having difficulty swallowing. I went to my family doctor who immediately sent me on to an ear, nose and throat specialist. As the weeks went by, I was shunted from one specialist to another, a constant stream of different doctors and machines. It was only in June that a neurologist, consulted about a different problem, gave me an MRI and discovered a tumour at the top of my throat.
I went for a full month of radiation and chemotherapy in the September. By October 2008, it appeared that the tumour had been conquered. On the other hand, the treatment destroyed all my teeth. 28 of them had to be reconstructed, a process that took until July 2010 to be completed. It also cost the equivalent of about £40,000!!
My wife Terenzia died suddenly and unexpectedly on Boxing Day 2008. It was without question the worst year of my life. But 2009 was difficult too. The Head of Gastroenterology discovered high-grade dysplastic tissue in my oesophagus 3 times. The first time, I was headed for another long bout of radiation and chemotherapy - another full month of it. After that, the body had taken as much as it possibly could. The next two cases of dysplasia were dealt with by means of mucosectomies (effectively scratching the dysplastic areas out of the oesophagus).
Just when I thought that things were finally under control, a "routine" check revealed that the original tumour had risen like a phoenix from the ashes. Now there was no choice other than to take out the entire oesophagus, together with the tumour and another two or three dysplastic zones.
The first attempt at the operation, on 17th September, was aborted because I was found to have cirrhosis of the liver. Mild by all reports, but enough to preclude removal of the entire oesophagus, or so they claimed at the time. I went home for a few days and then came back for a second attempt on the 24th September. This time, it worked. The operation took place on Monday 27th September and apparently took 9 1/2 hours, and that was just to remove the oesophagus. A second operation, to replace the missing bit with a stretch of small intestine, will take place at some time within the next 7 to 8 weeks.
So as I write this, I am in my hospital bed, in room D21 South of the University Hospital in Zurich and am hoping that this enormous exercise will give me a few more years of quality life. There is so much to live for, so much more to experience before my time is up. So I am fighting, much to the admiration of the staff here, and looking forward to being freed from hospital when the time is right.
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