Waiting

So we have been celebrating birthdays since May. First Maja's, then Mimi's (Iva's mother), then Antonio's, then Zoran's, the Iva's, and last week was Milena's. It is good to have a reason to celebrate these days.

Iva just finished another 5 days of chemotherapy. And now we are waiting, as always, to hear from the doctors.

A couple of weeks ago, Iva went through the restaging process--CT scans of the chest and pelvis and an MRI of the spine. These pictures tell the doctors whether the chemotherapy is working. Her oncologist at Deke Slayton, the clinic that administers her chemo, gave us pretty optomistic news after she had reviewed them. She said the spine tumor hadn't grown, and the spot in the lung was necrotic (dead tissue) and she wasn't entirely sure it was ever a tumor. We gave the discs with these same images to the sarcoma specialist at MD Anderson who had evaluated Iva when she first came to the U.S. in April. His enthusiasm was not as great. He agreed that the spot on the spine was not any bigger, but the spot in the lung was. He also said it wasn't clear whether the spot in the lung was growing due to necrosis, becoming cyst-like or whatever, or whether it was growing as a tumor. She also had several very small spots in her lungs (3 mm in size) that he didn't think we large enough to bother discussing. So their tumor board, which meets every Thursday afternoon, was to discuss her case this last Thursday and they would let us know. We haven't heard anything yet.

What they decide is whether Iva's response to chemotherapy is "acceptable," meaning that it is working and she will continue. If not, she will have a chance to join their clinical trial on an antibody therapy, which works remarkably well, but for only a very low percentage of patients.

This whole tragedy has taught us all so much. First, there are the usual things--life is short, etc. It has taught us that there are many people who really do genuinely care about helping others. And there are those other things you never really want to know about--like what kind of person you become under pressure. What constant stress does to you. What it is like to have nothing left to give.

There is a man at my work who just returned to the office after a prolonged sick leave due to cancer. He is very frail, thin, and all sorts of wrong colors afflict his face. I cannot even bring myself to talk to him, because I know I would be a hot mess if I did. And that is a damn shame, because I know that when people are experiencing tragedy, a lot of people have a natural instinct to distance themselves from the person. And this can really cause people to feel isolated and alone at the very time when they need others the most. I know I have been totally guilty of this in the past. Maybe I just didn't know what to say. Maybe I just didn't want to be the 20th person to make them tell their story that day. Who knows.

Part of the reason I haven't been writing so much these days is just that. I don't want to make Iva's struggle about me. There are always those people who no matter what you are going through, they seem to make every situation about themselves. I just don't want to do that. But the thing I have learned these last few weeks is that inevitably Iva's struggle is about me. And it is about her mother, and it is about her brother, and it is about our daughters, and it is about her fiancee. It can't help but affect us. It just does.

And so I have to continue to write even on the days when I am just consumed about myself and when there is nothing else to report. We have all been having a rough time in our own ways and although there is no change in any demonstrable way, we have all been irreversibly changed. As for me, I may still avoid things, such as an ailing co-worker, but not because I don't care enough or feel anything for him (which I think is the truth of the past), but because I feel everything too much these days.