We met Mr S, the consultant this afternoon. He confirmed that the cancer has returned, and that there is probably no point in further surgery.
The cancer has returned to the liver, and is also in the paraaotic node. The biopsy taken at the time of the colonoscopy did not reveal any cancer but Mr S is pretty certain there is cancer in the rectum where the join was made.
Therefore, Elaine has to have another biopsy (this Friday) under general anaesthetic to check out whether cancer has returned in that region. We asked why. How would that affect the treatment. He explained that if there was no cancer in the rectum, Mr P (the liver surgeon at Leeds) might decide to operate again on the liver; if the cancer has returned to the rectum, it would be deemed that there is no point operating on the liver. The only point of further surgery would be cure the cancer. If this cannot be done, further surgery would be futile.
The cancer in the paraaotic node could not be treated surgically anyway.
So although, it is now the view that Elaine’s cancer is incurable, it is going to be treatable with chemo. No-one can say how successful this is going to be, or how long Elaine can survive. We will have to discuss chemo options with the oncologist, Dr J.
Of course, we are very, very said at all this news. However, in a strange way, Elaine is really relieved that she is not going to have to be cut around any more, or have to live with a bag.
Elaine still looks great and very healthy, and is now looking at returning to Bristol and finding another path to deal with this plague of hers. As has been said elsewhere on this blog, Elaine doesn’t always follow the script.
We will return to this posting later and develop it some more, and recount our discussions with Mr S about my letter.
Reading the blogs is very moving and an unusual way for me to receive so much info. I’m able to benefit from hours of other peoples careful thoughts.
Thinking of you all lots xxxxx
Chris
Hell’s bells Elaine, Chris, Morgan. Loveya all, big hugs Jools. xxxx
Elaine has just sent me some email correspondence with Thling yesterday evening which I found very moving, and am pasting below.
From Thling
I started a thread on Opinion a while back about how I spend significant amounts of time each day wandering about the local streets carrying a neatly-parcelled bag of sh1t. I chat to neighbours, wave to friends in their cars, change my order when I meet the milkman – all the while with this bag of sh1t in my hand. Isn’t that a bit weird? But if you’re a dog-owner then it’s what you do when you take them for a walk. And, after a while, it stops being bizarre and starts to seem completely normal.
I thought this while I read Mr. C’s account of the meeting with the consultant today. Isn’t it bizarre that all of us – friends, acquaintances, complete strangers – are becoming up close and personal with Elaine’s rectum? It’s almost as if it’s become a character in its own right, independent of Elaine, in this extraordinary saga. I even found myself wondering today who would play the rectum when Hollywood made a blockbuster of Elaine’s life (“The Woman Who Wouldn’t Bl**dy Die!”). Clearly someone vile and treacherous who was followed everywhere by Shower-Scene-From-Psycho music.
Why am I writing this? Because I can’t imagine anything more humiliating than what Elaine has had to go through. Her body has betrayed her and that betrayal, and the accompanying humiliation, has been played out in the public gaze. Yet Elaine, the real Elaine, survives – battered, bruised but gloriously herself.
I’ve just read over the postings from the past 24 hours, Elaine. This must have been a time of horrible anticipation for you. Yet there you are full of laughter, kindness, curiosity and grace. Your courage is extraordinary.
My father-in-law lived a remarkable life and should have died any amount of times on any amount of different occasions. After a while, I think he simply stopped worrying about it. There didn’t seem much point. But right to the end, his favourite toast (next to “Fish like to swim”) was “Still alive!”
You’ve got through today, Elaine. And you’ll get through tomorrow as well.
Elaine replied
There’s been lots of interesting things I’ve learned today in my meeting with the consultant which I will share later. However, I have to report that as soon as I entered the clinic (5 minutes early) I didn’t even get time to sit on a chair but was immediately taken and weighed and then straight to the consultant. All these poor old ladies and gentlemen who looked terribly ill (I look blooming BTW) looked at that sign where it announced there was a 45 minute waiting time for his registrar and saw what to them must have looked like a perfectly healthy young woman be taken to the “top man” who spent almost an hour with me. As I came out I could feel the stares and almost hear the thoughts of, “Who’s that? Bleedin Princess Anne?” I was sooo tempted to say, “Sorry you’re still waiting but even though I’m at least 30 years younger I have less time to live than you,” but controlled myself:-0)
Thling – that was a fantastic message. I shall start the auditions for my rectum in the blockbuster right away. Maybe the reality hasn’t yet sunk in but I am just so relieved about no further bowel surgery. There’s a possibility of more liver surgery but that doesn’t frighten me. And I don’t feel like I am dying. I have this feeling that further bowel surgery might well have done that because my spirit would have collapsed. Anyway immediate target is to make my 25th anniversary with MrC in September and the ultimate one is I must outlive Thatcher and have that party. Wouldn’t it be spooky if she died tomorrow?
On that happy note, I shall leave you for tonight.
O b***** Elaine -what a blow (even though you were half-expecting it) -I hope you manage to stuff plenty of quality in, whatever.
Keep us all posted on the site. It’s truly extraordinary.
Sue (non) xx