New math, by Sue Hendler

New math, my results and a potential solution to the parking problem


Posted By SUE HENDLER
May 2009

I get a fair number of comments on this column. Some are heartwarming and supportive. Others are not. Still others give me pause, as they give me more, rather than less, material over which to ruminate (spoken as a true vegetarian).

The most recent instance of the last of these was a response to my "wish list" column ("At first, cancer centre seemed foreign; now it seems homey," April 3). Alastair Lamb and Anne Smith wrote a letter to the editor ("Cancer centre improvements meet columnist's 'wish list,' " April 22) in which they documented how most of the things I had wished for were, in fact, planned in the ongoing expansion of the cancer centre.

It was great to know that some of the things I thought could enhance the lives and treatment of those of us with cancer were actually being planned for. But there was one stark incongruence that I have been thinking about for the past while.

In my column, I made a big deal of how the people at the cancer centre make all the difference -- especially in the midst of inadequate physical facilities. In their response, Lamb and Smith emphasized the improvement of these facilities.

But that made me think back to a story in the Whig from a while ago. It had the provocative headline: "KGH to cut jobs, beds." That story was all the rage in the cancer centre waiting rooms the day it came out.

OK, so I know I'm a political person. I have lots of opinions as to how the world ought to be run, and lots of arguments with how parts of it are being run. But I didn't set out to write this column in order to express political viewpoints. While I believe that values are implicit or explicit in everything we do, and I knew I couldn't escape expressing values in my columns, it wasn't my intention to advocate for or against particular ideas, policies or programs in this space. But the juxtaposition of these two stories ended all that.

In other words, the contrast between these two positions struck me, as I hope it does you. How can the same, or smaller, numbers of staff provide good service to increased numbers of clients (from 75,000 to 105,000, using Lamb and Smith's own numbers) in a space that is almost twice as big? Hmm ... must be the new math. I must have been sick the day they covered that in school.

Speaking of sick, after several weeks of good news I got a less-positive report before my last chemotherapy treatment. I had had a CT scan and, for the first time, had not called my oncologist for results. I'm not sure why; maybe I didn't want to spoil things, as I was feeling pretty good but realized I had never gotten a good report after a scan. It was always, in the words of my oncologist, "not good" or a "mixed bag." Maybe I wasn't worried because my blood work had been encouraging. Maybe I was in denial.

Anyway, I didn't call but, for some reason, wasn't surprised when I got the "mixed bag" verdict. Some liver lesions are smaller or gone, but several are bigger. Bone lesions look like they're healing. Lung lesions look stable. Tumour marker counts are way up ... again. Sigh.

So what does this mean? It could just be an unexplained blip in my treatment. It could mean that the chemotherapy isn't working anymore. It could even be a positive thing in that the tumour marker could signify dying cancer cells as opposed to replicating ones. In other words, we don't know.

It's hard to decide what to do given that kind of uncertainty. We could stop this chemotherapy and try another one. We could try something else entirely. Or we could stay with the current therapy for one or two more cycles and see what happens.

I've decided to go with the last of these options. Two oncologists recommended it, it makes sense to me not to give up on something that has been effective -- at least not without more conclusive evidence -- and I really don't want to go through the uncertainty of starting another sort of therapy with a whole new set of side effects and a whole new question as to its efficacy -- or not.

The day I got this news, I drove to my place in the country. I figured that digging in the garden would be therapeutic. While I lay on the grass and took a break from this work, I looked up and saw three -- no, four -- turkey vultures circling overhead. Not yet, I thought. Not yet.

Finally, if you have ever been to the local cancer centre, you'll probably have experienced the frustration of trying to find a parking spot anywhere close to the building. You'll probably have driven in circles for a while and then reconciled yourself to either getting a parking ticket or parking blocks away, or both. Having dealt with this situation for more than a year, I would encourage you to sign an online petition (before July 31) about cancer centre parking: http://www.thepetitionsite.com/2/parking-for-cancer-care. Thanks.

Sue Hendler is a former member of the Whig-Standard's Community Editorial Board. She is contributing regular columns on her experiences while she travels her breast cancer journey.