How did you get it?
No idea. I am not a smoker; I have not spent significant amounts of time in mining towns or around asbestos; I am only 28 years old. They are not even sure whether it started in my oesophagus or my trachea. I am a very unusual case and there are few parallels. All this makes prognosis very difficult because there are just not enough other similar cases to make statistical likelihoods very illuminating. Of course, if you do know of others with similar cases, I'd love to hear about them.
Back to FAQ.
Showing posts with label diagnosis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label diagnosis. Show all posts
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Diagnosis
What do you have? What's the story? How big is it?
I have a primary squamous cell carcinoma of the upper aero-digestive tract. For those less medically inclined, let me explain each part. It is a carcinoma, generally known as cancer - a malignant tumour measuring 3.5 by 3.0 by 2.5 cm in size (or at least it did on 4th December. Hopefully it has already begun to shrink with treatment).
How many growths are there?
It is a primary tumour, which means that this growth is the original one. Left unchecked, it would spread to my lymph nodes and then to other parts of my body through a process called metastasis. Fortunately, we seem to have found it before this deadly self-reproduction had really got underway. However, in late December before I started treatment, my oncologist did find some a small tender lump in one of my neck lymph nodes. This seems have disappeared with chemotherapy. Similarly, a PET scan in mid-December discovered a few other possible secondary growths, though these were inconclusive and too small to treat with radiotherapy. The hope is that chemotherapy will have mopped them up.
What kind of cancer?
It is a squamous cell carcinoma, which refers to the kind of body cell in which the growth originated. Cancerous growths are normal body cells gone wrong, which start to reproduce themselves much faster than they ought and without reference to surrounding tissue. If this happens in or near a vital organ, it will eventually be fatal as that organ is taken over or crushed by the new growth. Malignant growths are those that also send out more cells into the rest of the body and begin to reproduce themselves elsewhere. By definition 'cancer' means malignant. Some tumours are 'benign', and just stay in one place (this can still be dangerous or deadly in some locations), but they are not generally called cancerous. Squamous cells are the cells that form linings inside the body, particularly in the oesophagus (food pipe) and trachea (wind pipe).
Where is it?
It is in my upper aero-digestive tract. This is a deliberately ambiguous classification since they are still not sure if the tumour began in my oesophagus (more common, but less likely in my case, given biospy results) or trachea (rare for a 28 year old non-smoker). The growth is located between these two tubes and grows into the base of my trachea, in my left bronchial tube (connecting the trachea with my left lung), partially obstructing it (this had been making breathing difficult until recently). It is a few inches above my heart. If you draw a horizontal line between my armpits, it is located on the left side about a third of the way across my chest. Please note: despite my voice being affected (and how we first discovered the growth), it is not a throat cancer, nor is it a lung cancer.
Can they operate?
No. Or at least not for now. Not only does it presently impinge upon two vital tubes already mentioned, worst of all, it is snuggled under a loop of the aorta (main artery exiting the heart). It is also hiding behind a rip, blocking clear access from my back. There may be some chance of surgery once it has shrunk from the combined chemo-radiation that forms the core of my medical treatment.
How serious is it?
Very serious. The rapid onset of symptoms seemed to indicate that it has not been around for long and was acting very aggressively. The speed with which I was given treatment indicated the pressing need for action. The possibility that it was already spreading (see above) also shows that it meant business. No one has given me a definite prognosis, as the rarity of my age and condition means that statistics are too scarce to make even an estimate. We just live each day as a gift, with hope in the God who raises the dead - and who also sometimes heals the sick.
Back to FAQ.
I have a primary squamous cell carcinoma of the upper aero-digestive tract. For those less medically inclined, let me explain each part. It is a carcinoma, generally known as cancer - a malignant tumour measuring 3.5 by 3.0 by 2.5 cm in size (or at least it did on 4th December. Hopefully it has already begun to shrink with treatment).
How many growths are there?
It is a primary tumour, which means that this growth is the original one. Left unchecked, it would spread to my lymph nodes and then to other parts of my body through a process called metastasis. Fortunately, we seem to have found it before this deadly self-reproduction had really got underway. However, in late December before I started treatment, my oncologist did find some a small tender lump in one of my neck lymph nodes. This seems have disappeared with chemotherapy. Similarly, a PET scan in mid-December discovered a few other possible secondary growths, though these were inconclusive and too small to treat with radiotherapy. The hope is that chemotherapy will have mopped them up.
What kind of cancer?
It is a squamous cell carcinoma, which refers to the kind of body cell in which the growth originated. Cancerous growths are normal body cells gone wrong, which start to reproduce themselves much faster than they ought and without reference to surrounding tissue. If this happens in or near a vital organ, it will eventually be fatal as that organ is taken over or crushed by the new growth. Malignant growths are those that also send out more cells into the rest of the body and begin to reproduce themselves elsewhere. By definition 'cancer' means malignant. Some tumours are 'benign', and just stay in one place (this can still be dangerous or deadly in some locations), but they are not generally called cancerous. Squamous cells are the cells that form linings inside the body, particularly in the oesophagus (food pipe) and trachea (wind pipe).
Where is it?
It is in my upper aero-digestive tract. This is a deliberately ambiguous classification since they are still not sure if the tumour began in my oesophagus (more common, but less likely in my case, given biospy results) or trachea (rare for a 28 year old non-smoker). The growth is located between these two tubes and grows into the base of my trachea, in my left bronchial tube (connecting the trachea with my left lung), partially obstructing it (this had been making breathing difficult until recently). It is a few inches above my heart. If you draw a horizontal line between my armpits, it is located on the left side about a third of the way across my chest. Please note: despite my voice being affected (and how we first discovered the growth), it is not a throat cancer, nor is it a lung cancer.
Can they operate?
No. Or at least not for now. Not only does it presently impinge upon two vital tubes already mentioned, worst of all, it is snuggled under a loop of the aorta (main artery exiting the heart). It is also hiding behind a rip, blocking clear access from my back. There may be some chance of surgery once it has shrunk from the combined chemo-radiation that forms the core of my medical treatment.
How serious is it?
Very serious. The rapid onset of symptoms seemed to indicate that it has not been around for long and was acting very aggressively. The speed with which I was given treatment indicated the pressing need for action. The possibility that it was already spreading (see above) also shows that it meant business. No one has given me a definite prognosis, as the rarity of my age and condition means that statistics are too scarce to make even an estimate. We just live each day as a gift, with hope in the God who raises the dead - and who also sometimes heals the sick.
Back to FAQ.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Introduction: read this first
Welcome & blog introduction
Welcome to my second blog. My main blog, nothing new under the sun, is for general personal and theological reflections, links, commentary and discussion. Please come over, check it out and join in sometime. This new blog is specifically for personal and health updates, frequently asked questions about my life with cancer, prayer points and discussion. Feel free to browse and make comments, even if you don't know me personally. Latest updates will appear at the top of the page as things develop.
About me
I am a twenty-eight year old Christian from Sydney, Australia recently diagnosed with cancer. My wife Jessica and I live in Camperdown and from this week will church at All Souls Anglican Church, Leichhardt, where I am beginning work serving part-time as a lay ministry assistant (we have just moved from St Barnabas' Anglican Church, Broadway), having recently completed a four-year Bachelor of Divinity from Moore Theological College.
Initial signs and diagnosis
Back in early October last year I began to lose my voice (mentioned here and here). It was a very stressful time at college and personally and so for many weeks, I simply rested my voice and waited for it to return, unfortunately missing some speaking engagements and mercifully giving my classmates more chance to speak.
However, after a couple of months, exams were over and life was slowing down, but my voice hadn't fully return so I went to get it checked out. A nasal endoscopy quickly discovered that my left vocal chord is paralysed, greatly reducing my volume and range. A CT scan the next day was intended to rule out one possible cause: a compressed nerve. This scan discovered a growth (3.5 by 3.0 by 2.5 cm) in the middle of my chest, extending between my oesophagus and the base of my trachea, and growing into my left main brochial tube, partially obstructing my breathing. I received this news on the 4th December and so regular readers might realise that all the posts since here are coloured by this news.
Weeks of tests and hospital visits ensued, at the end of which it has been determined that I have a primary squamous cell carcinoma of the upper aero-digestive tract. There are no secondary growths (praise God), but as it presently stands, the tumour is inoperable, being trickily located at the junction of primary tubes for food, breath and blood (aorta).
Treatment
I began chemotherapy on 27th December and had my first radiotherapy session on 2nd January. I am physically tired and sometimes have difficulty concentrating, but am generally quite well. My breathing, which had been getting progressively more difficult throughout December (and which was affecting my energy and sleeping), has eased even in the last couple of days - another reason to rejoice.
Reaction
It's hard to say exactly how Jessica and I are feeling, because there are many aspects to the experience and the last few weeks have been such a whirlwind of responses and new challenges. There is shock at the ugly presence of sickness and wrong in God's good world. There is sadness at lost or delayed plans. There are bouts of some anxiety and uncertainty, mixed with pragmatic necessities and reflective moments of insight and new perspectives. There is joy in the love of friends and family and the daily gifts God gives. There is a yearning for Christ to return and bring healing to his entire groaning world. Overall, we are feeling well in spirit, trusting the God who calls into existence the things that are not and raises the dead. There is no reason to fear, because the light has dawned on all of us who sit in darkness, in the shadow of death.
Prayer points
For those who pray, here are some suggestions.
Give thanks:
Welcome to my second blog. My main blog, nothing new under the sun, is for general personal and theological reflections, links, commentary and discussion. Please come over, check it out and join in sometime. This new blog is specifically for personal and health updates, frequently asked questions about my life with cancer, prayer points and discussion. Feel free to browse and make comments, even if you don't know me personally. Latest updates will appear at the top of the page as things develop.About me
I am a twenty-eight year old Christian from Sydney, Australia recently diagnosed with cancer. My wife Jessica and I live in Camperdown and from this week will church at All Souls Anglican Church, Leichhardt, where I am beginning work serving part-time as a lay ministry assistant (we have just moved from St Barnabas' Anglican Church, Broadway), having recently completed a four-year Bachelor of Divinity from Moore Theological College.
Initial signs and diagnosis
Back in early October last year I began to lose my voice (mentioned here and here). It was a very stressful time at college and personally and so for many weeks, I simply rested my voice and waited for it to return, unfortunately missing some speaking engagements and mercifully giving my classmates more chance to speak.
However, after a couple of months, exams were over and life was slowing down, but my voice hadn't fully return so I went to get it checked out. A nasal endoscopy quickly discovered that my left vocal chord is paralysed, greatly reducing my volume and range. A CT scan the next day was intended to rule out one possible cause: a compressed nerve. This scan discovered a growth (3.5 by 3.0 by 2.5 cm) in the middle of my chest, extending between my oesophagus and the base of my trachea, and growing into my left main brochial tube, partially obstructing my breathing. I received this news on the 4th December and so regular readers might realise that all the posts since here are coloured by this news.
Weeks of tests and hospital visits ensued, at the end of which it has been determined that I have a primary squamous cell carcinoma of the upper aero-digestive tract. There are no secondary growths (praise God), but as it presently stands, the tumour is inoperable, being trickily located at the junction of primary tubes for food, breath and blood (aorta).
Treatment
I began chemotherapy on 27th December and had my first radiotherapy session on 2nd January. I am physically tired and sometimes have difficulty concentrating, but am generally quite well. My breathing, which had been getting progressively more difficult throughout December (and which was affecting my energy and sleeping), has eased even in the last couple of days - another reason to rejoice.
Reaction
It's hard to say exactly how Jessica and I are feeling, because there are many aspects to the experience and the last few weeks have been such a whirlwind of responses and new challenges. There is shock at the ugly presence of sickness and wrong in God's good world. There is sadness at lost or delayed plans. There are bouts of some anxiety and uncertainty, mixed with pragmatic necessities and reflective moments of insight and new perspectives. There is joy in the love of friends and family and the daily gifts God gives. There is a yearning for Christ to return and bring healing to his entire groaning world. Overall, we are feeling well in spirit, trusting the God who calls into existence the things that are not and raises the dead. There is no reason to fear, because the light has dawned on all of us who sit in darkness, in the shadow of death.
Prayer points
For those who pray, here are some suggestions.
Give thanks:
• For so many positive reasons to rejoice: life and new life in Jesus; overwhelming support and offers of help; providential proximity to hospital (just a few hundred steps down the road); reasons to live found in all those around whom I can serve and from whom I receive so much; hope despite brokenness because Christ is the author of life and through his death destroyed the power of death and rescued us all from slavery to the fear of death.Pray:
• For a deeply encouraging celebration of 'God with us' over Christmas: God thinks this life is worth sharing - and fixing.
• For a health system that provides hours of medical expertise and attention, a wide variety of drugs and equipment for basically no charge.
• For easier breathing and sleeping since soon after treatment began.
• That the combined chemotherapy and radiotherapy are effective in reducing the size of the growth (down to nothing!).There is more to come.
• That side-effects will be minimal and for patience to endure what is necessary, growing in perseverence, character and hope.
• That Jessica and I would stay thankful, loving and hopeful, trusting God to give strength each day. "The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." (Lam 3.21-22)
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