Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was a young maiden who wanted nothing more in the world than to be a free spirited wife and mother. She felt free because she had already satisfied her hunger for action in her country's army and her hunger for learning medical things  in the best schools. She didn't know how long she would have to work and she hoped she would soon meet the man of her dreams, marry, and have enough children to fill many shoes. And she did.

Many years went by. They were hard times and good times but mostly years of prosperity. One day a terrible thing happened and the young mother became gravely ill. A terrible spell had been put on the woman and everyone feared that she would soon die. The entire town came together, determined to save her. Her husband gathered their friends and family and soon word spread across the world. Many people prayed. The best doctors came to her bedside. No expense was spared. Many months passed and soon she appeared to be getting well again. Before the year was up, people noticed how healthy and strong, the once ill, woman had become. Many thought she was cured. Few people worried that the illness would return.

Until one dark day. The woman didn't feel like herself. With every week and every month that passed, the woman's fears mounted until it was impossible to disagree that the terrible illness that had nearly killed her mere months ago was in full force yet again. Only this time it wasn't quite the same. This time it was hiding in places no one could have guessed. This time no one knew what to do.

The woman went home to wait. All of her friends and family stood vigil at her side. The best doctors came to decide on a spell. But still nobody knew what to do. There were many ideas. Minute to minute. Hour to hour. Day to day. Week to week. Time only seemed to stand still for the woman but really time had sped up... And was spinning out of control. She became so dizzy that she didn't know what to do or say or how to be. The spinning spun her so hard that she soon fell to the ground and couldn't get up.

The end

Rip the Bandage Off Quickly

Everybody is waiting for news. I've been public, open, honest and it's a two-sided situation. It's therapeutic for me. It saves me emotional energy because people, who want to know, can read my updates and I don't have the need to go into detail each time I see people. My immediate family also reap comfort from being able to share and inform their friends and neighbors without personally going into detailed conversations about my situation everywhere they go.

Good news is the easiest to share. A brief hurray on Facebook is completely acceptable. Sharing bad news is extremely difficult. I'm worried about how the recipient is going to cope, react. It's horrible to see tears and pain that my situation is inflicting on everyone around me.

I think the best way - maybe - is to just rip the bandage off quickly and get it over with. Short, factual and to the point. I received the news from my PET CT scan today. There's a cancerous tumor in my lung and another cancerous tumor deep inside my liver. They are both small tumors that couldn't be seen on a regular CT scan. I will need treatment.

What this means is that the cancer is more advanced. It's stage 4. We need time to absorb and internalize this very shocking and bad news. I don't have any other information right now so the one thing I would ask of people is to please not ask me or my family questions about treatment plans because we don't know yet. I'm in the hands of the most caring and devoted doctors. We have time to make plans and hopefully come up with the best treatment options available in the world.

For those who know us and see our kids... please don't ask them any questions about me. No sad faces please. That's my only request at this time.

Thank you for you support, love, and prayers! I need them now, more than ever!

Please pray for Erika bat Chava Ehta. (name update: Ahava Emunah bat Chava Ehta)

Shabbat shalom - may we all have a peaceful Sabbath.

One Foot in Front of the Other

It snowed in Jerusalem! It was probably the biggest snow storm in 20 years! We didn't get any snow where I live so I was especially enchanted by our drive up the Ein Karem mountains to Shaare Zedek Medical Center in Jerusalem today. While the sun was shinning, beautiful white snow was still frozen and covering much of the hills and was piled high on either side of the roads.

We (my whole family and I) have been waiting for this day to come... the day of answers. The day where we would receive, The Plan. I was hoping that today we'd get some kind of black and white protocol plan for treatment, "the cure for recurrent Ovarian Cancer" but then we got there and quickly realized that the cure is still being made. I may or may not be a candidate for a phase 2 clinical trial drug that could potentially save my life. I may or may not choose to go for a risky and complicated yet aggressive procedure that is still too experimental to prove itself worth the huge risks it also offers. I may or may not choose to wait patiently while enjoying a respite from chemotherapy and enjoy my currently good quality of life until the cancer grows enough "out of control" to mandate immediate treatment. Which option would you hope for?

So, today, no plan for treatment (yet). No answers (yet). HOWEVER... we are planning and my oncologist is making sure we research every possibility before we make a treatment decision and plan. So, that means more meetings with more experts. A PET CT scan. AND lots and lots of hope and prayers.

I'm a runner. I'm a take-action-fast-kind-of-person so this is rough for me. I'm not great at waiting patiently but I'm doing my best. One day at a time, one step at a time. One foot in front of the other.

Messed Up

I thought that being diagnosed with stage 3 ovarian cancer was my worst nightmare but no. THIS is worse. I'm only waking up to my worst nightmare right now. Maybe I was trying to deliver the news painlessly; sugar coat it. Seriously, I'm not THAT important. I might have been too vague because, Ping Pong, is a really idiotic title for a blog post about cancer recurrence... and followed with a cheerful ditty about the rain. Why didn't anybody tell me???

Wake up Erika!!!
Somebody slap me.
Shake me.
Poke me with a needle.
Because... this is no laughing matter!!! I always smile. That's just how my face was made.
On the inside, I'm retching. I'm clawing my eyeballs out. I'm scraping off my own skin.
I'm going out of my mind.

I was supposed to be cured of cancer -  and I believed it with ALL my heart and soul. I kicked cancer! I'm a Survivor. A Warrior.

But no. I didn't beat it. It's still there. I had no idea. No clue. Well, yes I did but no I didn't.

I have cancer. I had cancer and then it was supposedly gone but it was never gone! It was always still there!

I had a very successful surgery but the chemotherapy didn't work. All that poison, feeling sick, baldness, celebration was a bit premature.
The cancer never went away but now it's NOT treatable by "just cutting it out". Now, I need another kind of chemotherapy. This time around, we're going to have to wait and see if the chemo can kill the cancer that I actually have. It's a whole different game.

I'm so frustrated and scared.
It's messed up. Cancer is horrible. I KNOW I should live, live, live for the now because who knows what tomorrow will bring and life is fragile when you least expect it... BUT cancer is a killer and it can kill me. I just don't know what's going to happen and that anxiety and anticipation is one of the worst feelings that I've ever felt.
EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY.  Even if I have to die.
I might die because cancer kills people sometimes....

It's just messed up.

News Flash! It's Raining!

We interrupt our normal broadcast with this edge-of-your-seat news from Israel: IT'S RAINING! It's not often that we Israelites have opportunity to break out our scarves, coats, boots, and umbrellas. In Israel, "freezing" is defined by anything below 60 degrees Fahrenheit (15*C) and as soon as the first storm hits the Mediterranean the country literally shuts down. The roads flood. Trees fall over. Last winter, there were reports of people floating down a main artery  in rubber dinghies to bypass a blocked highway in the Tel Aviv area. Like many things, people love to comment on the weather. Israel mainly has two climates; seasonably hot and unseasonably hot. Occasionally we're blessed with some rain and cold though it usually only lasts for a day or a few. Rarely, we get snow below the Hermon and Golan Heights, and that is truly cause for mass celebration especially for school-aged children, who get a snow-cation because obviously the roads and transportation, schools, and everything else completely shut down when it snows here.

I am elated. Cold. A bit damp. Somewhat worried about some dripping from my attic/roof but really REALLY happy!

How nice to have a break from nuclear threat from Iran and terror in Gaza, bills that need paying, and, of course, cancer... because all anyone is talking about is the rain and the cold and it's wonderful! On the 8:00 am news, I heard about a fallen tree blocking a main road and wreaking terrible havoc on the morning commuters. All the headlines were weather related and there's already 15 centimeters of snow on Mt. Hermon in the north! The kids are delighted to be opening and closing their umbrellas and jumping from spot to spot to avoid the mud and puddles on the way to the car and I feel happy.

I know that weather is no joke... G-d forbid anyone should experience anything disastrous, and I know that exists... but Israel's "winter" weather is benign and glorious and I'm enjoying the excitement that won't last for too long and the free car-wash and desperately needed water for the whole country.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could just talk about the weather?

Ping Pong

I celebrated my 38th birthday on November 28. The day before my birthday, I had a routine check up at the Noga Clinic at Shaare Zedek Medical Center in Jerusalem. This is a relatively new routine for me and while you might think it sounds like an unpleasant one, the set up of the Noga Clinic, run by, Dr. Pnina Mor, makes everything easier. The Noga Clinic was established to help monitor healthy women who carry a BRCA mutation and hopefully prevent cancer with early detection and close monitoring of breast and ovarian health. They organize all the appointments for you on one day whether it be with surgeons, MRI, mammogram, ultrasound, blood-work. They don't keep you waiting, they explain everything step by step, and hold your hand through the emotional and scary parts too. Dr. Mor is definitely one of the most caring and dedicated medical professionals I've met on my journey and I'm so lucky to have her on my team!

I've been monitored with regular check ups and CTs and in July, some minimal fluid showed up on the scan and it was still there in October but everything else pointed to good things and my medical team agreed to keep monitoring with regular CTs and check ups. My appointment at Noga was completely routine, scheduled back in May. When it came to doing the ultrasound of my abdomen, it became clear that there was more fluid and possibly a mass. That was the day before my birthday. Terrified but still optimistic, we scheduled a biopsy. In short, they use a giant needle, about a foot long... there was no pain medication or numbing - none. That test, which drained close to a half liter of fluid from my pelvis, was probably the most traumatic moment of my life! ...And then you wait. One day and another day. It was Chanukkah so we did Chanukkah things. We did crafts, we baked, we lit candles, we unwrapped gifts, we went to the beach, and we had fun with family. We had Thanksgiving with dear friends. We celebrated my parents' 42nd wedding anniversary, my dad's birthday, my brother's birthday, my birthday and David and my 13th wedding anniversary.  It was a wonderful holiday despite the anxiety and anticipation.

Finally, the day arrived. That's today. Finally, I know and I can relax... sort of. The waiting is one of the worst parts. I have a horrendous game of ping pong in my head. I'm fine. I'm not fine. I'm fine. I'm not fine. Waking up in the middle of the night with a heart pumping out of my chest, sweat drenched, and panicking. My beloved husband and I grabbing onto those final moments before finally getting news. I love my oncologist, Professor Cherny. He's more than a top physician and practitioner on the cutting edge; he's a man with a heart of gold who cares and makes me feel like I'm his #1 patient. Prof. Cherny is the one who held onto my hand after telling me that the biopsy came back positive for active cancer and looked into my blurry eyes and reassured me that there's still more treatment and I believe him. I believe I'm getting the best possible care and I just have to hang onto the hope that I can still be cured. I'm fine. I'm not fine. I'm fine. I'm not fine. I still have cancer. I'm not cured and I'm not fine with that. I have cancer. This is my life.

That's all we know. I need more treatment. More chemo. My medical team will come up with the best possible protocol. For now we wait.