Worth a Read

I think this is one of the best articles I have have ever read about trying to save terminal cancer patients. It describes the Horror - the Dedication - the Talent - and the Hope.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifest...l?tid=obinsite

I made this similar hard journey with Dr. Mike Choti out of Johns Hopkins in 2005. I too, was originally told I was terminal - but now I just bear that long, old scar and am free and clear of cancer. Docs like these are why I am still here. Kudos to these physicians who don't do it for the money, or the glory, but to save a life and are willing to take on the difficult cases where lesser doctors refuse to go.

Awesome, but scary read. Cancer is one of my biggest fears.

We have a good friend who has undergone this exact procedure pioneered by Dr Sugarbaker, twice, and it has given him additional years with his young son and wife that otherwise would not have existed. When given a dire medical diagnosis, there can be nothing worse than hearing "I'm sorry; there is nothing we can do for you." Thankfully, creative thinking and tenacious physicians like Dr Sugarbaker provide an alternative treatment that can greatly extend one's time on earth. All cancer treatment begins with an idea that is either proven or disproven. I too am alive today because of oncologists and researchers who sought more successful treatment plans.

Thanks for posting this, Duane. It's part of our shared cancer-fine cars-awesome leather furniture friendship.

Ain't that the truth.....

I remember sitting across from a Dr. Brons**** one day in November 2004 in Falls Church VA with my wife as he told me to 'get my affairs in order' as I had 6 to 10 months to live. I had never met this guy before in my life and five minutes after sitting down at his desk he told me I was terminal. He'd operate and do what he could but there was really no hope and best he could do would be to debris as many tumors as he could and then that....was going to be that. My wife went pale and I got peeved, thinking..."How dare you write me off so quickly, dismiss my life so simply like I'm a raindrop on a windshield". We walked out of the office and I said to my wife "He's not my guy - he's a quitter and lazy."

Then I got busy. REAL busy. I became a sponge for cancer knowledge and immersed myself in medical journals. I mean, what's a doctor but the same guys I drank beer with at college but they went to school a few more years? If they can learn it - so can I. And so I did - I never quit anything in my life and wasn't going to go down without a fight. After several weeks and hundreds of hours of study that led me to a guy named Micheal Choti at Johns Hopkins. He was the guy I needed...he was the State of the Art for my kind of cancer. We hit it off immediately. He was mildly impressed with my layman's knowledge of the disease and I loved the way he said "We have options - I think I can help you." I asked him how he could do it when others said it couldn't be done and he replied with a wink and said "Because I know what to do".

PERFECT.

So we scheduled the surgery for February at Johns Hopkins. In the meantime, Dr. Brons***'s office called to schedule his surgery for me. I said "Please tell him thanks but no thanks, he's not my guy". His nurse said "What do you mean, Mr. Collie?" And I replied, "It means he's fired - I got another cutter." I must admit I had some satisfaction in saying that. :)

Before wheeling me in for surgery Doc C. said "No promises, OK?" I said "Do your best, but you go for it - all the way, don't quit." Six hours on Choti's table and when I came to there he was with a big grin on his face and I knew I was going to be OK.

That was seven years ago. I still talk to Doc Choti every couple months and invited him out to the high performance driving school earlier this month so I could teach him to go fast around the track (he likes cars!) but he was committed to a speaking engagement that day. I'm dragging him out to the next one, though....lol

Very inspirational, and courageous story Duane.

I lost my grandmother to lung cancer this past August, and despite her situation, her courage even in the face of death was truly remarkable. I am just glad I made it back to the east coast in time, and got to spend her last days by her side.

I lost my mom to cancer when I was 24 and she was 52 - took care of her with hospice help in my (first) home for nearly a year. We moved our furniture from our apartment one week, the furniture from her house the next week (from out of town), and then finally, moved her via ambulance the next week. It was a trying time for me, working full-time, and for my husband who worked even longer hours. But it was also most unimaginable for my mom. She had bone cancer that appeared suddenly, they amputated her leg, and then it returned a few months later in the brain. They removed the tumor there and began radiation, which she refused after a week. My mom was always a fighter and she knew in her heart that she was near the end. Her life had been full and her only regret was not getting to meet her grandchildren (the first of which arrived a year after she passed). She wanted to go peacefully and I very much appreciate hospice nurses after our experience. I pray that there are more doctors coming up in the ranks that will take greater risks and try new procedures. Bless them for their energy and dedication. And when it is truly the end, I pray that there will always be hospice caregivers at the ready, comforting those through the final stages. We follow a clean diet and try to keep chemicals out of our home, in hopes that it will do something to keep cancer away. I fear cancer more now that I've been touched so personally by it. It is wonderful to hear stories of survival and remission.