From Mark (Aug 29)

Hi everyone. . .
As you may have heard yesterday, I got my staples out, and we received a flood of new information. After all of this, Meg and I are doing well. We've spent the day basking in the glory of Vancouver summer, picking some things up for our apartment, and enjoying the company of my brother Mike and his partner Liz.
This all feels like the beginning of something real now, and Meg and I are ready for whatever comes our way. With the treatments beginning on Tuesday, though, it feels like we're getting on top of this thing and showing it that we don't need it here. I have every confidence in the BC Cancer Association and my team of Oncologists / Lymphoma specialists led by Dr. Kerry Savage. From what we can tell, they'll be offering me the "best practice / state of the art" treatment, and the quality of the care and science at the BC Association seems second to none. I'll also be receiving holistic health advice from an agency called Inspire that will be dealing with things like education, diet, exercise and mental health. If these salmon runs and the Thai massage I'm looking into are all they're cracked up to be, my quality of life down here should be pretty good.
Our goal right now is to take on the first two cycles of treatment (3-4 days in hospital, 11 days off, 3-4 days in hospital), see how I'm handling it, and then head to Whitehorse for a visit of about 10 days. That should be sometime around the 20th - 27th of September. I was hoping to get out on a moose hunt during this time, but the Oncologist was less than enthusiastic about me being any significant distance from hospital for any period of time in between treatments in case of complications. Fishing and bird hunting can get me out there too I suppose.
Meg and I are now settling into our apartment at 15th and Granville. It's been a godsend. It's central, accessible to shops/restaurants/everything we need, a 15 minute walk from treatment and hospital, quiet, all we need and nothing more, and has a private outdoor patio space that will likely provide some refuge when needed. We've also got an army of friends and family lining up to help us out at the drop of a hat. We've been blown away by Vancouver so far and figure there are likely much worse places to be dealing with something like this.
Now, more than ever, we feel like we are going to smash this thing. We're going to smash it with all our communal strength, power, positivity, love, medical science, hippie voodoo, community spirit, Yukon toughness, Ontario stubbornness, will to live, will to love, and all of our futures together. Plus, we've got a baby on our side. This thing doesn't know what it's getting into.
Thank you all so much again. We feel you every step. Take care of eachother, and we'll be in touch.

xoxo Mark and Meghan

Dr. Redekop removing my staples.

The charming Dr. Redekop, Meg, and I.

Look at that bump!

The road ahead.

Background...

What a summer. For those of you arriving here out of the loop, I'll offer you a brief synopsis of what have become the most eventful short months in Meghan and my lives. In 2006, after 5 years in Whitehorse, Yukon, Meghan and I had decided that we were going to settle in this new-found paradise and raise a family. We also decided that if we were going to do so, that we'd like to go back to school and do some travelling. So we did. We were married in July of 2006, and spent the next year or so selling our house, making preparations, and finally spending 6 months exploring Nepal, Southeast Asia, and Europe. In September of 2007, Meghan entered the Aboriginal Teachers Education Program at Queen's University in Kingston, ON, while I worked as a timber framer nearby. The following September saw my turn for school, and we made the move to Bobcaygeon, Ontario. Meg landed a job as a supervisor at a group home, and I worked my butt off at Fleming College's Natural Resources Law Enforcement Program. May of this year brought the happy news that we'd be adding a third to our team, and that Christmas would see a new Callan. May also brought the news that I had landed a great job in Whitehorse as the Youth Programs Coordinator for the Yukon Department of Environment, and that the contract would last until November.
The summer has been hectic, thrilling, energizing, and draining. We've been bouncing around from house-sit to house-sit, not knowing what our future would hold. Meghan found work early on as Team Leader at the Whitehorse Young Offenders Facility, and I eagerly applied on Conservation Officer positions posted for the fall. The youth programs job took a lot of work and organization to juggle 16 staff and 2-3 camps of 10 kids each, and Meg's first trimester of pregnancy left her feeling a little exhausted. Free time was not to be found. By the end of July, we were feeling a little ragged, but knew that we would get through the summer all the better for it, and that fall would bring some time to breathe. We made the decision to buy a house in Whitehorse, and after much looking and hand-wringing, picked up a nice little place backing onto the Grey Mountain greenbelt in Riverdale. With a bit of work, we could make it ours in no time.
At this point in the summer, I started to notice a few things that I attributed to the busy pace of our summer: I was getting a bit clumsy, having trouble typing, working less efficiently, having some coordination problems, and generally just not feeling myself. I left on a camping trip to the Northern Yukon with kids on August 3, and returned on the 13th. We took possession of our house on August 7. On the 13th, I started experiencing headaches that were keeping me up at night. That weekend, Meghan and I moved all of our things from various stages and stations of storage into the house. We haven't even unpacked the boxes yet. We went to a walk-in clinic on the 14th, and the doctor suggested a CT scan for the following week to check out the headaches. The following day, however, it was clear that I needed help right away. I was experiencing the worst headaches of my life, and could no longer type properly.
A visit to Whitehorse General Hospital led to a CT scan and chest X-ray and doctors who read the scan informed Meghan and I that they had found a tumour on my brain, and that I would need to head to hospital in Vancouver or Edmonton right away. Needless to say, this is news that no one expects or wants to hear, and we were devastated, terrified, and in utter shock. Our friends, family and colleagues, equally in shock, nevertheless sprung into action and helped us make arrangements to take care of our house and pets while we flew to Vancouver the following day. With the uncertainty of what we were dealing with, that first week was scary and stressful. After many tests and investigations, it was determined that I had one 3-4 cm tumour in the lower occipital part of my brain, and that swelling in this area was causing the symptoms I had been experiencing. It was also determined that I had six other smaller tumours forming on my brain. The decision was quickly made to remove the largest of them in order to relieve my symptoms, eliminate the swelling, and to figure out exactly where the tumours were coming from. The operation took under two hours, and went very well. Pathology results from the tumour have revealed that I have a form of Cancer known as "Diffuse Large B-Cell Central Nervous System Lymphoma". I will be undergoing intensive chemotherapy for the next several months here in Vancouver.
So that's where this all came from. The support and love we've been receiving has been both overwhelming and humbling. We've got so much on our side that there is no way we can go wrong. We're going to SMASH this thing.


Here are some selected pre-blog updates:

From Mark and Meghan (Aug 25)

Hello everyone. . . .
We just wanted to send a quick note out to all of you to let you know that Meghan, I, and our families are feeling the incredible waves of support that you're generating more than ever, and that all is going well here. We've been both humbled by and awed at the generosity, caring, and concern passed our way over the past week by family, friends, medical staff, and people we've only just met. It's amazing what beauty can emerge from the sludge of a situation like this.
I am feeling good, and they discharged me from hospital today. Pathology results from the tumour the surgeon removed will be available to us very soon. We should know more about what we're dealing with then and what treatment might look like, but right now, it looks 99% like Central Nervous System Lymphoma - this, (as awful as it sounds) is apparently good news. The treatment regime for this type of cancer includes intensive chemotherapy for 2-3 days at a time every two weeks here in Vancouver for 12-18 weeks with possible follow-up radiation. We're still not sure how I'll react to these treatments, and what our life will look like for the next few months, but we've got excellent options for accommodations down here and I hear that it'll be prime salmon season in these parts soon.
We have encountered many amazing medical professionals so far, but I must mention my neurosurgeon Dr. Gary Redekop, and my oncologist Dr. Joseph Ragaz. Dr. Redekop is an incredibly talented, dedicated man who continuously awes me with brilliance, tenacity and commitment to his work. Dr. Ragaz, a saint of a man who has appeared from the ether, is helping us navigate the challenges ahead with selflessness, wisdom, and grace.
We've got a road ahead of us, but we've always liked a good road. And again, with all of you on our side, there is no way that we can go wrong. I've attached a couple of photos here so you can see my Frankenstein staples (if yer innarested) and some proof that the smashing has begun. (Thanks to Dave King and Jen Turner for the shirt!) I'm shaving off the rest of the hair tonight so bearded and bald is the way for a while!

Much, much, much love. . . take care of eachother and know that you are with us always. . .

Mark and Meghan


------------------------------------

BC Cancer Agency Update from Mike (Aug 28)

Hi all. . .
my brother Mike typed up this update to send out earlier today. I'll send my own (and some photos) tomorrow. A big day - the first step on the road to beating this thing. Sounds like the communications system is getting simplified via a blog, so that's great. Talk to you all soon.

Mark had two meetings today. First, with his Neurosurgeon to remove the 30 staples in his head and later with his primary Oncologist to discuss the treatment path ahead.
The staples were all removed without incident and the Neurosurgeon noted that this was the first time that he had been photographed while conducting such a procedure. The Neurosurgeon was happy to report that he had treated other patients with CNS Lymphoma who were doing well many years after their initial diagnosis.
The Oncologist confirmed that the technical name for this lymphoma is “Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma” . This type of lymphoma represents about 40% of all lymphomas but is not commonly found in the brain; it is even less common in young people (the average age for those contracting it is 65). It is so rarely found in young people in fact that only 5 people under 30 were on record as having had it over the last 20 years in British Columbia.
The cause of the lymphoma is unclear but it likely originated no longer than 2 months ago.
Treatment
Some forms of chemotherapy address tumors in the brain better than others. One of the most effective, and the one that will lead Mark’s treatment is called Hi-dose Methetrexate.
Mark will need to be admitted to hospital for the chemotherapy treatments but he’ll stay no longer than 3-4 days each session. There will be between 6-10 sessions throughout the course of treatment and Mark’s first will begin this Tuesday.
The treatments won’t be fun but the side effects seem to be limited: limited to no hair loss, some potential inflammation of the mouth, and any potential nausea should be kept at bay with the very effective anti-nauseants currently on offer. The Oncologist expects that Mark will tolerate the chemotherapy well and should be able to continue most activities.
The Oncologist, will be away next week but her colleague, Dr. Hoskins, will pick up where she left off.
Mark will have an eye exam and a ‘lumbar puncture’ just to rule out any complications with the eyes or back. The risks of such complications are minimal.
So this isn’t the best type of cancer to have but it’s far from the worst and he’s getting top quality medical attention. The Chemo regime will be tough but so is Mark. Tuesday will mark another step along the path to getting back to full health.

---------------------------