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On Tuesday, March 18, beginning about 9:30 AM, Ashley underwent brain surgery for the purpose of removing the golf-ball-size tumor that had been discovered two days earlier. At 3:30 PM, the pediatric neurosurgeon, Dr. Swift, came out into the waiting room to tell us the results of the six-hour operation.

They were able to remove about 95% of the tumor. They could not remove the entire tumor because it was attached to the brain stem. They did not want to risk damage to the brain stem, which could have resulted in extremely severe neurological trauma. Therefore, an estimated 5% of the mass was left in Ashley’s brain. Ashley spent a couple of days in Intensive Care following surgery, and then was moved to a regular room.

Six days after surgery, the oncologists met with us briefly to let us know that Ashley’s pathology report showed her brain tumor to be cancerous. Technically, it was classified as a Medulloblastoma, “a fast-growing, invasive tumor which frequently metastasizes to other parts of the central nervous system via the spinal fluid” (A Primer of Brain Tumors, A Patient’s Reference Manual, Sixth Edition, American Brain Tumor Association, page 44). The good news was that “this tumor is very responsive to treatment with surgery, radiation and chemotherapy” (op cit).

Ashley underwent minor surgery the next day to implant a porta-cath just under the skin in her chest. The porta-cath would be used as an access point for her upcoming chemotherapy treatments.

Ashley’s recovery from brain surgery was impressive, though there were some lingering, and even some permanent, deficits suffered as a result of the surgery. Ashley had been right-handed prior to surgery. Because she was left with a severe deficit in her fine motor skills and in coordination on her right side, Ashley taught herself to write, and to do just about everything, left-handed. Even later as her right-side motor skills and strength began to improve, she continued to favor using her left hand for most tasks.

The day after Ashley’s porta-cath surgery, the oncologists sat down with us and presented to us the plan that had been devised for Ashley’s treatments. We were not prepared for what we were about to hear.

The protocol under which she would be treated was relatively new, and called for a combination of radiation therapy and chemotherapy. The radiation therapy would take place once each day, five days per week, for six weeks. Each session would take about an hour to an hour and a half.

In addition to radiation, four very powerful cancer-fighting drugs would be introduced into Ashley’s body on a rotating basis. Each cycle would take six weeks, and there would be a total of eight cycles. That meant we were looking at more than a year’s worth of treatments between the radiation and the chemotherapy. We were overwhelmed!

Everyone knows that cancer treatments can have some severe side effects. I have heard it said that, with cancer, sometimes the treatment is worse than the disease. Little did we know how true we would find that statement as we watched our precious little girl suffer through what ended up being almost a year and a half of hell.

We were told that, as a result of radiation and chemotherapy, Ashley would lose all of her beautiful blonde hair, and would probably experience extensive nausea and vomiting from time to time. Other side effects, with varying degrees of severity, were possible as well. She would be required to be hospitalized for five days every six weeks while receiving one of the four drugs, because that particular drug had some dangerous potential side effects and would require close monitoring during treatment.

By the time we were able to bring Ashley home from her initial hospital stay, she had been in the hospital for nearly two weeks. During that time she received visits from family, friends, church members, teachers, classmates, and some total strangers (some of whom were friends of Susan’s and mine, but who Ashley did not know; others of whom were friends of friends). As she received cards, banners, and letters, we began to hang them around the room, until every wall of the room was covered with get-well wishes. The stuffed animals, toys, flowers, and other gifts were stacked in every conceivable nook and cranny, and balloons were tied in bunches all around the room.

As we left the hospital, the man at the front desk asked me for the last name of the patient. I said, “O’Rear”. He responded, “Oh, Ashley. Our phone calls will be cut in half now that she is leaving!” (On subsequent hospital visits we would develop a very special bond with this man, Ron, who we came to know as “Grumpaw”. He was always very kind to Ashley, and we all grew to love him dearly … especially Ashley.) The lady at the admitting desk commented, “She has been a popular little girl while she was here!” One man who had been working at the hospital for about four years said that he had never seen a patient who had received as many phone calls, visitors, and gifts as Ashley!

What a wonderful blessing it is to have so many people who care so deeply, and who are willing to express their love so tangibly.

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