Um...How Do I Write This....Better Things Could Have Happened.....

Thank you for checking here. The fact that you care about this means everything to us.

We just got back from Wake Forest Baptist Hospital in Winston Salem. He had the big CT scan in the morning, and by 1:45, we were in Oncologist Dr. Torti's office.

I could personally tell right away that we were going to get bad news.

The Dr. and his assistant had stricken expressions on their faces, and Dr. Torti walked in, shook our hands, rolled a stool right up to Bill's knees, sat on the stool, put his hand on Bill's knee, and said, "There's no good way to say this, so I'm going to just say it. The radiologist just called me, and he is very worried about your liver. There are three lumps on your liver that weren't there 90 day ago.Yes, it could be liver cancer."

Wow. That's the kind of moment you hope you never have to live through in a whole lifetime.

Bill just sat there quietly. I got my pen out and started writing down a verbatim transcript of every word after that, because I went into shock, and couldn't think. I could only write words down. Kind of like I'm doing right now by writing this blog.

Here's the deal.

Next week (they're going to call and tell us when), Bill gets a liver biopsy to confirm whether it is or isn't cancer. Obviously, we think there's quite a chance of it.

Then, they "aggressively attack it." I loved that part, when he said that.

If it's positioned right, they put an electric needle in the tumors and burn them out. This is called oblation (I think). (You can imagine the googling I'm going to be doing.)

If they can't "oblate", then it just so happens (!) they have one of the world's best liver surgeons there--by chance!(?)--and he goes in and cuts the tumors out.

Then, Bill gets chemo for 4 to 6 months, DOUBLE the strength of last time, and with some new drugs that Dr. Torti was the inventor of. Ooops. Of which Dr. Torti was the inventor. Because the last chemo did nothing whatsoever to his cancer.

As for our emotional states, we are both in shock. Bill's doing a lot better than I am. I'm kind of wandering around picking things up and putting them down and wondering what I'm doing. Bill is watching Sports Center and coping, and even laughing sometimes.

When we find out the next bit of info, such as biopsy date or results of biopsy, I will post again.

If you talk to us, don't feel like you have to act weird. We are being really normal and trying to find humor here and there. We're not acting morose or freaky or anything like that. There's nothing you should be afraid to say or ask. So don't feel inhibited if you want to ask anything or say hi or whatever. We're still us. We're still laughing. We're still optimistic.

We are also realistic.

Bill says to write this: "We're still leaning on the promises."

You lovers of old hymns know exactly what that means.

Love and more love and GRATITUDE that you care for us.

Yer favorite cowpals
B&B