8th Post. You Can’t get a man to Everest, so Everest comes to you.

My surgeon was SO young.  I mean, I know how old Christy’s sister is, and that they were Chief Fellows back to back at Mass General…so I should not have been surprised.  But there he was, my very own Doogie Howser!  I laughed to myself as I thought this. And then I laughed again tempted to say something and then sort of got hysterical thinking “I bet he wouldn’t even get the reference!!!”

So we start the conversation.  First words “you have brain cancer”.  Hmmm…THAT is not what I have.  I mean, I have a brain tumor, yes.  Anyone can see it when you see the image…it looks like a darn cotton ball on my brain.  It is FOR SURE a tumor…but it is not BRAIN CANCER.

So I shared my medical insight and observation with my neurosurgeon who went through four years of medical school, then residency for God only knows how many years, only to be topped off by a Chief Fellowship at one of the top Neuro hospitals in the world.  And our brilliant Chief Neurosurgeon at U of W (who is also the Chief at Harbourview and Seattle Childrens Hospital) snagged him…over a year ago.

So – who was going to win this debate.  How could HE know it was cancer just by looking at it?  I couldn’t tell it was cancer…it was just a little tumor.

I won’t bore you with white matter vs grey matter and the rest of it…or how they know based on the penetration of either matter, what type of matter it actually is!  (sort of a “who’s on first type of thing”).  So we listened.

My husband was immediately emotional and had tears.  They’ve seen this before.  THAT is why that second person, the nice woman, is in the room.  She is there to make sure when someone tells you you have brain cancer, that you GET IT…that you RECEIVE the information…and that you COMPREHEND the horrible news you’ve just received seconds ago.

I had my notebook ready and was very clinical about it.  My mom had a notebook and every day had an entry about my father.  So I was prepared to do the same thing.  I start writing furiously everything my doctor said.  My goodness there are ACRONYMS galore when it comes to brain cancer.  And there are so many variables it was mind numbing.

So I said, “okay, so I don’t want to live with a brain tumor in my head”.  My doctor said “yes, I think we should resect so we can address the brain cancer and see what type it is”.  I said, “Brain tumor”, and he said “Brain cancer”.

Okay, potato potahto….he wins.  He is definitely smarter.

So we talk hierarchically what we want it to be once it is out…and what we don’t want it to be.  We of course start with the deadly glioblastoma. He believes I have a 90% change it is NOT a glioblastoma because in my MRI the tumor did not absorb contrast.  So that is a huge relief.  We have three friends (under the age of 50) who have battled and lost to this wretched beast that lives silently inside your brain and when it reveals it self…it is often too late).

We want Low Grade vs High Grade.  We want Oligodendroglioma vs Astrocytoma.

Now to talk about resection and when.  Our doctor (because now this is happening to both of us – my husband and I…) states that he does the vast majority of his surgeries on Thursdays.  So…we sat there for a while.  I got out my iPhone and looked at my calendar.

“Okay, so my husband is leaving for Everest this Thursday, March 22…he is back on April 18th.  He will be tired from jet lag but how about we do the surgery on April 19, the day after his return?”

DEAD SILENCE…for a while.

The nice woman who is sitting quietly finally decides to speak.  “Mr. Ketcham, do you think you will be able to keep yourself focused and safe while you are doing such an intense and difficult climb in Nepal, knowing your wife has brain cancer back here in Seattle?”.

Silence again.  This time, because my husband has his head down and is weeping…and he finally looks up and says, possibly yells, ‘OH MY GOD I AM NOT GOING TO EVEREST!  MY WIFE HAS A BRAIN TUMOR…I COULD CARE LESS ABOUT EVEREST…I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE”.  To which I look at him and say “I am so sorry…really you can”.

Our doctor looks at me and then Will and says “I think that is the right decision”.