Mon., 11 May
At last, we signed for the house. The sellers were there, brushed and sober for the occasion. The notaire was happy because she has been trying to sort out the property and inheritance mess since 2003.
Nick had his sonagram and I had my CT Scan. Tumours are growing, again, and there is a new little one on the peritoneum or something. I'm not good at interpreting the results, but will see the oncologist on Friday. Chemo will probably be commencing soon.
Tues., 12 May
Cleaned and painted. We had a crew of 5 in the morning and one of 6 in the evening. We finally got home around 10. You really know who your friends are when you're moving.
Found a bird nest in a niche in the wall of the courtyard with little ones. Got some neat pictures, but have to wait for Polo to get them to me. I forgot to charge the battery in mine.
Wed., 13 May
Moved stuff. And moved stuff. And moved stuff. And didn't finish, so we continue tomorrow. And clean the apartment and move to the new house tomorrow night.
We have a lot of things to do on Friday, so I didn't feel it was fair to dump the animals in the new house and go off shopping and doctoring. We'll all sleep there tomorrow and the may have hope that we'll return. Bad enough they've all been alone all day all week.
Cats are now locked in. I hope that haven't forgotten what litter trays are for.
We have had no phone since this morning, but, oddly, we still have the internet. Think I will post this before we lose it.
Showing posts with label scan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scan. Show all posts
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Thursday, 30 April 2009
Squatters
First of all, my GP explained the chemo thing to me. Chemo is hard on your system, to put it mildly. It damages more than the cancer cells. So, if the cancer is inactive, they prefer not to give you chemo.
As to exactly what is left beside the two main tumours, she said to come in after my next scan and we'd go over it.
I like my GP and feel kind of bad that we are leaving her because WE ARE MOVING!
We still don't know what the hearing was about, but . . . let me back up: Inheritance law in France is unique. Napolean wanted to break the tradition of the aristocracy and the landed gentry leaving everything to the eldest son (primogeniture; it's what makes those vast estates in England to this day), so now the law is this: Your spouse is entitled to 1/4 of all your property and has the right to live in your house for the duration. Your parents and your children are entitled to equal shares. It's more complicated than that, but that will do for discussion.
So, consider. A couple die and they had 7 children. The property is divided equally among the 7. Some have died, though, and their shares devolve equally on their children. You now have many, many heirs who are scattered to the four winds, some of whom don't talk to each other. None of them want the damned house, anyway.
You come along as a buyer. The heirs, including those who have been lost for thirty years and must be traced, have to agree a price and the division of spoils. Need I say more?
Back to the present, we are dealing with an uncle and his nephew, who appear to be acting on behalf of the rest of the family. Both have their own notaires -- do you get a feeling of family harmony here? -- and both notaires have hired their own liquidateur-judicière. The l-js are dealing with the debt (back taxes and mortgages) and the judge.
One of the l-js, probably, asked for the most recent hearing before the judge. The judge ruled favourably and the release was sent by one of the l-js to our notaire. But not the other. ("He agrees, he agrees," say our notaire and estate agent, "The paper is only a formality." A formality, without which, we cannot sign the contract.
Earlier this week, I called our notaire and the estate agent and said that the following day was the last day we could cancel the contract, so I was going to. We couldn't take the chance that everything would be postponed indefinitely. Cutting to the result:
We have a letter from the uncle and his nephew saying that we can move in as of Wednesday of this week. And that, if the signing date gets postponed for whatever reason, we are still the buyers and we get the house.
And the second l-j has sent through the paperwork.
So we're moving. Over the next two weeks.
Whew!
As to exactly what is left beside the two main tumours, she said to come in after my next scan and we'd go over it.
I like my GP and feel kind of bad that we are leaving her because WE ARE MOVING!
We still don't know what the hearing was about, but . . . let me back up: Inheritance law in France is unique. Napolean wanted to break the tradition of the aristocracy and the landed gentry leaving everything to the eldest son (primogeniture; it's what makes those vast estates in England to this day), so now the law is this: Your spouse is entitled to 1/4 of all your property and has the right to live in your house for the duration. Your parents and your children are entitled to equal shares. It's more complicated than that, but that will do for discussion.
So, consider. A couple die and they had 7 children. The property is divided equally among the 7. Some have died, though, and their shares devolve equally on their children. You now have many, many heirs who are scattered to the four winds, some of whom don't talk to each other. None of them want the damned house, anyway.
You come along as a buyer. The heirs, including those who have been lost for thirty years and must be traced, have to agree a price and the division of spoils. Need I say more?
Back to the present, we are dealing with an uncle and his nephew, who appear to be acting on behalf of the rest of the family. Both have their own notaires -- do you get a feeling of family harmony here? -- and both notaires have hired their own liquidateur-judicière. The l-js are dealing with the debt (back taxes and mortgages) and the judge.
One of the l-js, probably, asked for the most recent hearing before the judge. The judge ruled favourably and the release was sent by one of the l-js to our notaire. But not the other. ("He agrees, he agrees," say our notaire and estate agent, "The paper is only a formality." A formality, without which, we cannot sign the contract.
Earlier this week, I called our notaire and the estate agent and said that the following day was the last day we could cancel the contract, so I was going to. We couldn't take the chance that everything would be postponed indefinitely. Cutting to the result:
We have a letter from the uncle and his nephew saying that we can move in as of Wednesday of this week. And that, if the signing date gets postponed for whatever reason, we are still the buyers and we get the house.
And the second l-j has sent through the paperwork.
So we're moving. Over the next two weeks.
Whew!
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
Complete & Utter. . .
waste of time and diesel for a 3-hour round trip.
I saw the oncologist. I am to have another set of blood tests and another CT scan on 11 May. With those results, she will make a decision about treatment when I see her again on the 14th.
I had questions. None of the answers seemed liked answers to me. I'm starting to feel like one of those people I usually yell at for not getting enough information. It's really hard when the doctors don't understand that you want it all. Or think you won't understand. Or that you'll be demoralised. Or whatever.
Where's the cancer now? Restricted to my abdomen. But spread about -- besides bladder and intestines? In my abdomen.
Chemo: If nothing has changed since the last scan, chemo will be put off. However, I can't expect the cancer to "behave" itself, so when it reactivates, chemo will start again.
Whether it's active or not, wouldn't chemo still act to reduce the tumours and, therefore, be a good thing? No. Why? I cannot get a satisfactory answer to this or else I am being dense, but the answer just seems to be no.
The visit could have been put off until the 14th, it seems to me.
My pain is gone, but have I mentioned that my fingernails are peeling away from the finger?
Sigh.
I saw the oncologist. I am to have another set of blood tests and another CT scan on 11 May. With those results, she will make a decision about treatment when I see her again on the 14th.
I had questions. None of the answers seemed liked answers to me. I'm starting to feel like one of those people I usually yell at for not getting enough information. It's really hard when the doctors don't understand that you want it all. Or think you won't understand. Or that you'll be demoralised. Or whatever.
Where's the cancer now? Restricted to my abdomen. But spread about -- besides bladder and intestines? In my abdomen.
Chemo: If nothing has changed since the last scan, chemo will be put off. However, I can't expect the cancer to "behave" itself, so when it reactivates, chemo will start again.
Whether it's active or not, wouldn't chemo still act to reduce the tumours and, therefore, be a good thing? No. Why? I cannot get a satisfactory answer to this or else I am being dense, but the answer just seems to be no.
The visit could have been put off until the 14th, it seems to me.
My pain is gone, but have I mentioned that my fingernails are peeling away from the finger?
Sigh.
Thursday, 19 February 2009
CAT Scan
"Now is the moment!" says Dr. Litor, my oncologist.
It would appear that the big tumours have not reduced since the last scan, but the little ones are gone.
No this, no that, no the other, not much change. A tiny bit of fluid ("Nothing compared to what you started with. . .").
I feel a bit of pressure in my belly as I did in the beginning, but Nick reminds me it's probably the fluid.
I also feel better this week. My platelets are moving up towards normal and I have the energy to walk the dogs.
So. . . I have an appointment with the surgeon on Monday morning. He will make the decision whether now is really the moment. I'm taking my packed bag with me this time, so I don't have to come fetch it in case he does, indeed, say, "Now!"
Monday, 3 November 2008
Blood Tests Back
Mail today, so I have my own copy of the blood results. Neutrophiles actually stood at 1674 before the last session. Red counts don't look too bad: hemoglobin, hematocrite and hematies are a tad low, but not bad. Platelets were within normal range and I have no Leg Lurg this time.
I thought I had Chest Lurg. Bright red emerging on the right side of my chest Sunday evening. By midnight I could see it encircling the chamber in my chest and I thought something terrible was happening. "Look!" I said to Nick ("Oh, did I wake you up"?) "It's a circle."
"Or a square," he said. Ha, ha! Very fun. . . Ah, the bandage the nurse had put over the site after the treatment. (Big bandage.) I forgot to tell her I'm allergic to adhesives.
CA125 is now down to 571.99. That's almost a fifth of what I started with!
I've not been sleeping well for the last 10 days or 2 weeks. Maybe that's an improvement, too. I've not been sleeping well for 20 years until after my stay in hospital.
Another thing I haven't mentioned is the numbness in my fingertips. It's constant and has been so from the beginning and is normal. Well, you know: normal for chemo.
I still have some fuzz on my head and I have my eyebrows and eyelashes. I wonder why that is?
Tomorrow is the scan and then we'll know if the CA125 means anything.
I thought I had Chest Lurg. Bright red emerging on the right side of my chest Sunday evening. By midnight I could see it encircling the chamber in my chest and I thought something terrible was happening. "Look!" I said to Nick ("Oh, did I wake you up"?) "It's a circle."
"Or a square," he said. Ha, ha! Very fun. . . Ah, the bandage the nurse had put over the site after the treatment. (Big bandage.) I forgot to tell her I'm allergic to adhesives.
CA125 is now down to 571.99. That's almost a fifth of what I started with!
I've not been sleeping well for the last 10 days or 2 weeks. Maybe that's an improvement, too. I've not been sleeping well for 20 years until after my stay in hospital.
Another thing I haven't mentioned is the numbness in my fingertips. It's constant and has been so from the beginning and is normal. Well, you know: normal for chemo.
I still have some fuzz on my head and I have my eyebrows and eyelashes. I wonder why that is?
Tomorrow is the scan and then we'll know if the CA125 means anything.
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