Texas Oncology is the place to go. They're the folks taking care of Tabby and keeping her alive.
Back to the narrative: The CT scan came back and everything was... The same. Stable was the word they used. I took a look at the report and it showed all the tumors were within .01 cm of what they were last month (either give or take) or exactly the same. So what does that mean?
I'm not sure.
On the one hand, it means she's not getting any worse. We've managed to stop the progression of the cancer so there's that. On the other hand, it means she's not getting any better, which points to the reason for the title of this blog entry. Stasis. Nothing has changed. She is unable to move forward or back. We are all just pulling in, trying to support one another, and trying to keep hope alive. I choose to take this as a good thing because it means I still get to have her around. Yes, it's selfish. Sue me.
The medication is beating the hell out of her. The "hooded nightmare," Cisplaten, is a brutal drug that appears to be doing its job, but it's taking its toll on her. She's constantly tired, weak and her daily bouts of nausea are becoming routine. It's almost like morning sickness, but it happens morning, noon and night. She's currently on more than a dozen different prescriptions, including two for the nausea (which don't appear to be working...), magnesium boosters, bone strengtheners, blood pressure medication, and a host of other things pills that equal a handful and a mountain of empty pill bottles in our kitchen. The Nulasta is one of the worst drugs ever to be necessary.
And yet, through it all, every time the doctor asks her if she can continue, she smiles and says "yes." Doctor Smith has given her an out multiple times, asking her if she needs a break. Tabby's determination has never wavered. Her spirit continues to be indomitable.
This week, in addition to everything else Tabby is going through, she had to go through the pain of losing her father. Walter Piszczyk was a gentle giant bear of a man who once threatened to break my legs if I broke his daughter's heart. That's the man I choose to remember. The man who, along with her stepfather, walked Tabby down the aisle. His passing hit her hard at a time when she was already beaten down. And still, she does not waver.
Consider that for a moment. Think about your worst day. Think about having those worst days for an entire year. Think about the strength that it takes to hold your head up and continue to fight. That's Tabby. That's my girl. If you ever had a doubt, it should be gone now.
As usual, if you're wondering what you can do... At this point, not much. I'm so thankful for all the messages from you all. All the visits help her outlook. My parents, my brother and sister-in-law, my Mother-in-Law, our friends...All of you have helped more than you know. Our children continue to help and be morale boosters. At this time of year, money's tight, as always. Those of you who bought Droplets, you're the reason why we're able to have a Christmas this year, so thank you. So I guess for now, all you can do is wait, hope, and call in any favors you might have owed you by any deity in which you believe. Light a candle and spare a thought for Tabby. She feels it. I feel it too.
Love to all of you.