Really encouraging news

It was with some trepidation that Meg and I went to Swedish Hospital for the MRI of her brain last week: it's the only definitive way to know what's going on in there! Dr. Jost had surgically removed ~ 95% of the tumor in December, and the carefully focused radiation treatments, with accompanying Temodar chemotherapy, had been designed to eliminate as much of the remainder as possible. Since then Meg's started the clinical trial of  infusions of Avastin/placebo every two weeks, and was about to start the first cycle of (the increased dose of) Temodar for 5 days each month: the research protocol stipulates an MRI every 2 cycles of treatment.

All our fears vanished when Dr. Jost charged into the examining room with a huge grin on her face, and asked us if we wanted to see some lovely pictures. She then showed us the MRIs on the screen, explained to us that she could see no evidence of any tumor at this time, and kindly allowed me to photograph them. Sensing that they'd finish up here, she pulled up an equivalent view from the day before surgery.  As you can see, both images are transverse sections of Meg's brain: Dr. Jost chose these views both to show the tumor at its largest, and to include the eyes (white circles at the top) to orient you. Views are as if you were standing by Meg's feet and staring up into her head, so left is on the right, and vice-versa.

You can't miss the obvious 2 inch diameter tumor on the right side of the brain in the "before" image, and you'll immediately see that there's no trace of it in the picture taken last week. Note also that the bulk of the tumor had pushed the brain center-line way over the mid-line, but that everything has returned to its proper location in last week's picture. My dentist kindly admired these pictures when I showed them to her [OK, and to everyone else] on my iPhone, and told me that the remaining little cavity where the tumor used to be is called a crypt. Dr. Jost was very impressed with how well Meg is doing and sent us on our happy way.

Meg's overall health continues to improve and to impress everyone. She tolerated the doubled dose of Temodar with no ill effects, and continues to do well at work. She still gets tired in the evenings, and typically goes to bed early, but is up and raring to go by the next morning.  Any lingering doubts about her health were dispelled this weekend when she:

• went on a 20 mile bike-ride on an unpaved trail in the Snoqualmie Valley: we had lunch on a spectacular old wood railroad trestle over a rushing creek.
• played her clarinet for half an hour, having received the OK from the doctor.
• did the hard part of figuring out our taxes.

We're looking forward to traveling back east for Nick's graduation in Philadelphia this May, and to our visit to Washington DC after that. I'll take the opportunity to drag her round all the museums & galleries that I used to enjoy when I lived in Baltimore, and we have an appointment with a doctor at the National Institute of Health to discuss which of the many clinical trials available might be most appropriate for Meg as needed.