Sandy Beardsley
Living with a Brain Tumor
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02/12/06
…and then Chemo Blues
Filed under: General
Posted by: Dan @ 11:58 pm

It has been a very rough week for Sandy. She finished the 4th round of the chemo drug Temodar last Thursday night. We had been told by doctors that with each successive round the symptoms of the drug may escalate. And they did. She has been very nauseous and has severe stomach / intestinal problems which began on day two of taking the pills. Today (Sunday) she seemed to feel a bit better, until she ate anything, and then she felt worse. Maybe it’s a good sign that the drug is working at stopping the growth of the tumor. But I feel so helpless to see her suffer for so many days. She missed a few days of teaching and feels bad about that. Hopefully she will start feeling better tomorrow. There’s a definite lag time with this drug - the low point comes days after she finished it. She says her insides feel “ravaged and burned.” But like she says, it could be a lot worse. Other chemo drugs have far worse side effects, so she feels lucky. “Lucky”… not a word you think you would hear from someone with a brain tumor and taking chemotherapy. But that’s how she is… her spirit keeps shining through somehow. But the past few days has really hammered her.

And it’s her spirit that keeps me going. She is tougher than she thinks, even on these days of feeling weak, sick and vulnerable. She can still crack a joke, get pragmatic and kick me in the butt when I’m feeling especially down, like this morning, when I let the numbers overwhelm me. Through research and in emails from people across the country dealing with this, it appears that the average life expectancy for someone with a Grade 4 GBM (glioblastoma multiforme) brain tumor is… one year. And that’s factoring in all treatments including surgery and chemotherapy. One year. We have known this all along but the more we see it in print and hear personal stories that validate the statistics, the harder it is to not be paralyzed by fear. Knowledge is power, but the knowledge of the numbers is also profoundly frightening.

I recently finished a great book by a man who had a “fatal” brain
tumor, was told he had months to live, and is still alive 15 years
later. The book is called “Making Miracles Happen. One of the passages in the book is something I always try to keep in mind, and close to my heart. He talks about those statistics and averages, and the fact that they are just that - averages. He had another type of brain tumor, not a GBM, but his rationale applies: Some people with a GBM 4 live less than a month. Others live years. So I try to forget the numbers and averages.

Though the edges of these days are tinged with fear and I can’t breathe when I think of losing Sandy, these days also hold gifts. It’s as if every day, every moment with her, every simple day-to-day routine thing we share… is lit from within and glows with a subtle powerful unspoken knowing… that this is it, this moment is all we’ve really got. Right now is what matters. But Sandy and I have also known that all along as well… ever since we first got together 17 years ago. Cancer didn’t teach us that, but it certainly keeps it illuminated. Life is still overwhelmingly beautiful.

Good night,
Dan

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