Go Blue!

Part of the U-M Medical Inn Infusion Team

Hail to the victors valiant, hail to the conquering heroes, hail, hail to Michigan, the leaders and best!

Karl used to attend U-M football games frequently. He’d watch as Henne would throw a slant pass to Arrington who’d scurry up the middle. He’d marvel at Hart’s ability to stop and juke, sloughing off would-be tacklers. Yes, there have been impressive teams at U-M (is Appalachian State and Oregon on the schedule in 2008?) But none of them compare, as far as we’re concerned, to the U-M medical team.

Karl has met some pretty incredible, compassionate and caring folks who have taken him under their wings while receiving care at University Hospital. Dr. Scheutze's and Dr. Biermann's staff have been wonderful. But the poor gals in chemotherapy infusion at Med Inn have been exposed a bit more to this family and our strange brand of behavior. They've been great about educating all of us about the various aspects of chemotherapy and its effects. They've been concerned when Karl isn't feeling well and they try to make him feel better by checking his levels and giving him an extra bag of blood or medication. They've kept things upbeat and as normal as possible. They chime in and make fun of him when it's appropriate...and it's often appropriate.

Apparently Karl had some sort of effect on them as well. And because Friday, June 20th, will be his last chemo infusion for awhile, they decided to make him an honorary member of the staff, giving him a U-M badge and lanyard with his photo on it (the dreadlocks photo no less).

Because they've been such a vital part of his recovery so far (and saved his life countless times by catching him before he fell forward out of the chair onto his head), he wanted me to post their photo and let them know he will think of them and remember their good wishes as he looks at his blog while recovering from his surgeries at the Mayo Clinic.

Thanks for everything Janie, Jan, Jan, Joann, Mary, Debbie, Annie and the rest of the crew!

Kerry, Karl and the rest of the family

A lesson in patience

For the moment, we’re waiting…or should I say, waiting again. But this time we’re waiting in the radiology department at Methodist Hospital, which is connected to the Mayo Clinic. Karl just got done drinking some yummy berry concoction that has radioactive iodine in it so that there is contrast in his CT scan. He has already been pegged as a pain in the butt by the staff at the desk. Go figure.

Let me just say that the Mayo Clinic is impressive. And huge. There are numerous hospitals interconnected by an underground system of hallways. There are areas where you can shop, lounge, use a computer to look at the Internet, or listen to various pianists, violinists, flutists, and soloists playing/singing upbeat music like Amazing Grace and God Bless America. Shuttles run from motel to hotel to hospital to clinic. It seems that the entire focus of Rochester, Minnesota is on the Mayo Clinic. People from all over the world come here. How blessed we feel that we were referred here. Karl’s doctors are very impressive, including the first physician who visited with us, Dr. Michael Nett. He showed us all of Karl’s films and gave us very interesting bits of information…Karl has a fracture on his sacrum. And he’s feeling like a tough guy because he’s been walking upright all this time with a broken back.

This morning’s meeting with Dr. Y was extremely informative, but we’re still waiting for a surgery date. The details of Karl’s surgery are, to say the least, overwhelming.

The bottom line is that Karl’s initial surgery to remove the tumor (and his broken back) will take 14-20 hours. His follow-up surgery to rebuild the sacrum will, if all goes well, follow in a week and will take another 8 hours. Karl was told to expect to be in the hospital for a month. His surgery will take place at St. Mary’s, which is the orthopaedic wing of Mayo, and he’ll be in the anesthesia ICU during that time…mostly to control his pain. In all, 8 surgical teams will be working to remove the tumor and repair the affected area to offer him the best chance of a cure and to get him back to some semblance of normalcy. He will be able to walk, in time, but because they are removing a large chunk of his spine, it will take some time.

In a nutshell, it will take 2-3 weeks for Karl’s wounds to heal before they can do more chemotherapy to make sure they zap any other cancer cells that may be floating around. They will probably also do some radiation. It will take another 6-9 months for his bones and bone grafts to heal…if all goes well. So, we’ll be waiting some more.

But we are prepared for the wait…even though we don’t know exactly what the wait will bring to us. As long as Karl has your prayers, good wishes and support, he can get through this…one day at a time.

Until then, we (Karl, Cindy Hook and I) will soon start back on the road for the 10-hour journey and will be home sometime early Friday morning, barring we don’t run into floods and tornadoes. Karl starts his fourth course of chemotherapy on Monday, and hopes to see you on Friday at the Rock N Bowl.

Wishing you God’s peace,

Kerry

Favorable & Optimistic

We have a date: Karl's appointment with Dr. Y at the Mayo Clinic is Thursday, June 12 at 1 p.m. We have so many questions and we're hopeful they will be answered when we meet with Dr. Y. We will let you know how it goes, but until then, here's a Karl update:

Last week, Chemo Sabe beat Karl up pretty well...but then again, we expected that. He looked like a typical chemo patient...tired, bald, dark circles under the eyes. But this week he's feeling better and has less pain than before. I should tell you that Karl shaved his head because it was very splotchy in terms or hair growth. His head now has the characteristics of Velcro -- he has a fun time removing shirts and hats because they cling to the very short whiskers of hair on his head. It's almost like he's wrestling with himself and I must say, is pretty comical at times.

But aside from how Karl is feeling, there is other news. After his last CT scan and MRI, we were told the cancer still had not spread. FANTASTIC! We were also told the MRI had revealed the tumor had not changed in size, but it had changed in structure. Dr. Scheutze must have sensed the deep concern on our faces because he quickly added, "That's favorable." He added that he did not expect the tumor to shrink at this point, but the fact that tumor had changed in structure was a very good sign. We later learned from the nurses that tumors often die from the inside out. We're assuming that's what is happening. Dr. Scheutze, who is generally a very serious physician, was joking with Karl and ended the conversation by saying, "I'm optimistic." Now, from my experience with oncologists and others who work in the cancer field, they try to stay away from encouraging words -- not to discourage patients or their families, but mainly to cover their own rear-ends. So, when an oncologist says the words, "favorable" and "optimistic" in terms of Karl's tumor, I take it to mean we can all be truly optimistic.

There's a sidebar to this particular report. The morning of Karl's appointment, I had written a prayer and emailed it to myself. In it, I had asked God for a long list of specific requests including: "...that today's report with Dr. Schuetze is favorable and optimistic." I feel it's pretty important for me to bear witness that God answered my prayer. I don't think it's a coincidence that Dr. Schuetze used the same exact words I used in my prayer, do you?

The underlying message here is PRAYER WORKS! KEEP IT UP!

Blessings,

Kerry

And may these words of mine, which I have prayed before the Lord, be near to the Lord our God day and night, that he may uphold the cause of his servant and the cause of his people Israel according to each day's need, so that all the peoples of the earth may know that the Lord is God and there is no other.

1 Kings 8:59-60