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February 19, 2005
They took out something around the size of a golf ball!
Dear Ones,
I am very exhausted so I will keep this update brief for now.
Peter is on the normal ward and doing very well. All IV's were removed today as well as the drainage tube from his brain. He got up and moved around ... took a shower unassisted and took a few little walks around the ward. He is doing remarkably well.
I spoke with one of the doctors regarding the MRI done yesterday and it looks like they got quite a lot of the tumour. There is probably still residual tumour cells around the edges but they took out something around the size of a golf ball. He kept saying that Peter was doing "remarkably well" - "very quick recovery", etc.
They will keep Peter in hospital until they have the histology (pathology report) back from the lab. That will most likely be Tuesday or Wednesday next week.
We will meet with medical oncologists and radio oncologists next week to consult and collect information about what they would suggest as a next step. That means I am getting back into research mode. I am not so keen on chemotherapy based on the bit of research I have done thus far. However, I will do my due diligence, research all facets and philosophies and leave no stone unturned. Then we will continue to make intelligent and well informed decisions.
Thank you for your prayers, blessings and well wishes. They mean so much to both Peter and I. We send you much love and light ... there is such abundance around us .... all of us.
Peter thanks you for continuing to send your healing energy and prayers.
Love,
Jennifer
Posted by Peter at 12:02 AM | Comments (0)
February 18, 2005
I am very exhausted so I will keep this update brief for now.
Dear Ones,
I am very exhausted so I will keep this update brief for now.
Peter is on the normal ward and doing very well. All IV's were removed today as well as the drainage tube from his brain. He got up and moved around ... took a shower unassisted and took a few little walks around the ward. He is doing remarkably well.
I spoke with one of the doctors regarding the MRI done yesterday and it looks like they got quite a lot of the tumour. There is probably still residual tumour cells around the edges but they took out something around the size of a golf ball. He kept saying that Peter was doing "remarkably well" - "very quick recovery", etc.
They will keep Peter in hospital until they have the histology (pathology report) back from the lab. That will most likely be Tuesday or Wednesday next week.
We will meet with medical oncologists and radio oncologists next week to consult and collect information about what they would suggest as a next step. That means I am getting back into research mode. I am not so keen on chemotherapy based on the bit of research I have done thus far. However, I will do my due diligence, research all facets and philosophies and leave no stone unturned. Then we will continue to make intelligent and well informed decisions.
Thank you for your prayers, blessings and well wishes. They mean so much to both Peter and I. We send you much love and light ... there is such abundance around us .... all of us.
Peter thanks you for continuing to send your healing energy and prayers.
Love,
Jennifer
Posted by Peter at 12:09 AM | Comments (0)
February 17, 2005
Peter's awake craniotomy was a success
Beloved Friends and Family,
It is with immense relief and gratitude that I write to tell you that Peter's awake craniotomy was a success.
We went into the Royal Brisbane and Women's hospital at 6:30 this morning, February 16th. The surgery took approximately five hours. I was allowed to be with Peter right up until they took him into the pre op room to commence anesthesia.
Peter was in very good and relaxed spirits. I am in awe of his deep courage and honored to be the woman at his side. He knew within himself that this was his next step on the healing journey and he took it with out falter.
I then went to the hospital chapel (the emptiest and most peaceful place in the hospital). I focused all the healing light, energy and love that I could gather for Peter and all the medical staff helping him through the surgery. It was a lot of light and a whole lot of love that I could sense around him. I felt him surrounded by a clear field of healing energy.
After much meditation and prayer Kylie (Peter's sister), Gandharaj (our good friend) and I waited to meet Peter. I got a call from one of the surgeons at approximately 2:00 Brisbane time letting me know that they had just completed surgery and he had just been moved to recovery. The surgeon said that the procedure had gone very well. He put emphasis on 'very well'.
Thank you God.
When we were finally allowed to see Peter again in the high dependancy unit he looked amazingly well. His color and vibrancy were good. He was very coherent and very grateful to hear that all had gone so well. He said he felt calm and helped through the whole thing. He was glad to be on the other side of it. He was having quite intense head ache at times but the nursing staff were good with getting that taken care of. At one point he looked up with sparkly eyes that looked both playful and knowing and said, "just wait till you see how quickly I heal." I say, "YES!!"
The plan is that he stay in the high dependancy unit for another day to make sure he remains stable and then to move him to the normal ward. He will remain in hospital for approximately five days and then be allowed home to the flat we are renting in Brisbane for another five days. When the doctors are satisfied that he is stable and well on the way to healing they will let us return back to Mullumbimby ... home, sweet home.
Peter asks that we all keep focusing our healing energies and prayer on his full and complete recovery. He is very appreciative of your love and blessings. As am I of course.
Tomorrow they will do an MRI and then be able to say just how much of the tumour they were able to get.
I'll update you as I can.
Life is precious and so are you. Thank you from my depths.
All my love,
Jennifer Lalor
Posted by Peter at 11:41 AM | Comments (0)
February 12, 2005
Surgery is scheduled at ~6:30 am Feb. 16th Aus. EST
Beloved friends and family,
Many people have asked exactly when my surgery will occur so that they can meditate, pray, or do whatever else feels right for them. I feel strongly that the love, energy, and intent of others are helping me to face this with grace and strength, and to see it as a golden opportunity instead of a curse. Thank you for your help, and please don't underestimate your power.
Surgery is scheduled to commence anaesthesia prep at ~6:30 am Australian Eastern Standard Time on Wednesday, 16 February (Tuesday 15th in the U.S. and Europe), which is 7:30 am in New South Wales. It will take place at The Royal Brisbane and Women's Hospital.
Equivalent world times are here.
The expected duration of surgery is at least three hours, and it can go longer. This website will have updates throughout the day of the surgery as possible. Hey, maybe we'll even have a nice picture of my brain! Hmm... let's skip that bit.
A medical intuitive whom I trust implicitly (see my journal) has provided a list of beneficial actions people can take regardless of where they are. These resonate for me:
Pray for the surgeon to be divinely guided.
Network of people to vigil during and afterwards for one week.
Reiki during and afterwards particularly for first week.
I am very grateful for anything that you feel drawn to do to assist my healing.
Also, I have been meaning for some time to ask that people email me a recent picture of themselves. I have trouble at times with names, but pictures are unaffected. It'll be nice for me to see you in any case. If you can, please name the image(s) with those it contains.
Much, much love,
Peter Lalor
Posted by Peter at 11:40 PM | Comments (0)
February 02, 2005
Sounds like a plan
Beloved friends and family,
We have a plan for my treatment. A story goes with it.
Since we initially received my diagnosis of brain tumour, Jennifer, aided by many enthusiastic volunteers worldwide who have done research and buttonholed specialists—thank you all!—has been tirelessly researching any and all potential treatments for my “untreatable� astrocytoma. She has done this whilst mothering two young children and aiding me through some intense processes of my own. Many long nights she has spent.
Throughout, I have focused my energies on facing whatever within me has come up asking for attention. If I am to die, I will carry no baggage. Lifetimes of energetic detritus I have shed, in experiences so outlandish that it would be tempting to simply chalk it up to the tumour, side effects of medications, anything. Except that I know. Oh, the help I have. We all have. Now. Always.
But this missive is to bring you up to date with the steps we are taking to cheat death this time. And I Intend to. As Jennifer has managed the research, it would perhaps be best for her to write this. But she has to sleep sometime.
Medical specialists of any relevant kind around the world have now seen my MRIs. The consensus is that surgery to de-bulk the tumour is the first step, and we concur. This is partially because the tumour is so enormously toxic that it is entirely possible to die from toxaemia if it simply begins to break down en masse. The majority of neurosurgeons that have seen my MRI feel that while tricky, it is operable. As the tumour is fairly invisible to the eye, it will not be known until a follow-up MRI is performed how much was removed. Up to 80% is considered potentially possible. A tumour starts from a single body cell that commences replicating out of control. This means that surgically removing a percentage is nothing more than a head start. It is not a cure. In this regard Jennifer’s research led her to an Argentinean specialist in dendritic cell vaccines. In a dendritic cell vaccine, the surgically removed tumour cells are killed by radiation, mixed with immune cells from my own blood and then injected back into the body, thereby training the body’s immune system to attack the tumour cells. The process is highly experimental, but should be non-toxic.
For a time we were expecting to fly anywhere within days. A neurosurgeon in New York is happy to operate for US$120k. The Argentines can do surgery and the vaccine for US$60k. It is nothing to drop a quarter mil on this.
Our global search eventually led us to a neurosurgeon in Brisbane at a hospital close to the one at which my biopsy was performed. Jennifer and I met with him on 24 January. He feels that surgery would be both feasible and helpful. He is also running a dendritic cell vaccine trial. Synchronicity! (Conveniently, this also keeps us within the Australian medical system, in which all this is covered for free, allowing us to pocket all that imaginary money that we didn’t have in the first place.) We felt very comfortable with him both technically and also personally. He has a certain ineffable openness that is vital to me, in that I feel that—given that the work is performed blind to a certain extent—he will be receptive to the help that I feel is present, and will make the right choices as he works. It is important that he does, because the potential side effects, while all unlikely in varying degrees, range from temporary (15%) or permanent (10%) weakness in my right side, to inability to create or comprehend speech, to death (1%).
I have felt for quite some time now that surgery was the next step. Whenever I have thought about it, I have heard quiet affirmatives telling me “Do it!� All will be well.
The neurosurgeon initially said that the location of the tumour is right on the cusp of requiring that it be done awake, but that he did not feel that this would be necessary although he needed to sit with it. By the end of our conversation he said that he felt that it would be best done awake. We liked the feel of him with this too, and I have been expecting that it would be done awake. I find myself surprisingly comfortable with this. Jennifer and I both feel strongly that we are on the right course.
My awake craniotomy is scheduled for the 16th of February. I will be in hospital for 5-7 days, and we will remain in Brisbane for another five days or so as a precaution. The dendritic cell vaccine takes some ten days to prepare, and then I have injections, MRI scans and blood work every two weeks over the course of twelve weeks.
So after all that, do I live? I wouldn’t count on it on those treatments alone. I have been taking Asian plant medicines prescribed by a forensic pathologist (who used to work for NASA; Jennifer loves that bit) with a speciality in rapid cell division. He is greatly restrained by Australian privacy laws from discussing his success rate, but states that his treatment is freestanding. Apparently, we are unwilling to bet my life on that either; hence the surgery. There are numerous other possibilities for subsequent treatments, but we feel that we need to take the door in front of us before we can consider future steps. At any rate, Death will be ill advised to attempt to close my account just yet. I intend to live.
With all our love,
Peter & Jennifer
Posted by Peter at 01:04 PM | Comments (0)