Manuel Lopez
Kidney Cancer Fighter
Where to start?
Just the word cancer inspires fear in people, especially when someone we know is diagnosed with it. No matter if it’s a mild form of cancer or a full-blown diagnosis. Cancer strikes a dark fear in the heart of everyone.
My mother worked twenty years in the City of Hope, a national cancer research hospital. We always knew she worked with cancer patients and it was sad when Mom told us they had lost a patient. We would ask the usual polite questions people would ask though as youngsters, we didn’t really know what it meant to lose a loved one.
We had lost our grandparents but they were old and we were young. We weren’t very close because they lived far away and even though we knew them, we felt no sadness over their deaths. Cancer and death had no real meaning for any of us until we lost my sister Susy at the age of 36.
Susy was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s at 26 and had major surgery. Over the next ten years Susy would manage to fight off three other forms of cancer by using everything the City of Hope had at its disposal. They did everything from chemo to radiation to surgery. She went through several kinds of hell in the fights and always pulled through, until the fourth and last cancer got her.
Her sudden death came as a shock though Mom and Susy took great pains to prepare the family for what was imminent. Susy had been told by her doctors there was nothing they could do for her and so she should just go home and get comfortable. We lost her several months later.
Thankfully Susy was spared the usual painful death cancer brings. All she suffered was a sharp pain in the back of her head and she went to sleep. She died at one thirty in the morning surrounded by the whole family except Mom and Dad.
We kept her on life support until the family was gathered to bid her farewell. As they disconnected her, I held her wrist and whispered into her ear. Members of the family begged her futilely to please wake up. It took a full half hour for Susy to pass away. I held her hand he entire time.
When she finally passed I was her spirit on the other side, she of the bed. She stood looking at us, getting a last look before departing. Finally turned and walked into the wall. “She’s gone,” I said laying her hand on the bed.
It is still the worst day of our lives.
Cancer spared the Lopez family until the fall of 2006 when I was diagnosed with Renal Cell Carcinoma, or kidney cancer. I could do without such an honor.
Like Susy, it was sudden. I felt no symptoms or saw no signs there was anything wrong. Right around my fifty-fifth birthday, while in the bathroom I urinated a piece of what looked like meat. Naturally, it surprised me but as most people will do, I ignored it and went back to living and working. I did mention it to my wife who said I should see a doctor.
I didn’t have time or money to see any doctor.
Later that month, I was in the bathroom once again when it happened again. A pea sized chunk of meat passed and fell in the toilet. This time I pulled it out of the water and took a good look at it. In retrospect, I wish I had kept the sample for a biopsy. Anyway, I decided it was time to see the doctor.
Fast-forward two weeks when I went to L.A. County+USC Medical Center in Los Angeles to be checked. The doctor said to me “We are going to take out your kidney and check you for cancer.” Very clinical and very blunt.
The rest of the day is a blank. The twenty-five mile drive home is a total wash and I don’t recall anything until my daughter asked what the doctor said. I was sitting in shock. I am a problem solver so once the shock wore off I took to the internet to learn what I could about kidney cancer.
Even though Mom had worked in a cancer hospital and she shared stories with us, I didn’t know there was such a thing as kidney cancer so you can imagine the surprise. RCC is relatively obscure and is listed number six on the list of cancers. Therefore, when I found what information I could on the web, I thought I was going to die. This was fall of 2006 and virtually all the information I found was at least five years old. It was also scary in the sense there was nothing positive about treatments or survival.
To a point, it is still true today though there is much more updated information available now. Now you can find ACOR.org, the American Cancer Society and the Kidney Cancer Association. Thanks to other, more informed RCC patients, there is a lot more information for any new patients. Moreover, the information is up to date if you know where to look. Much of it is patient based through personal experience.
The hospital scheduled the nephrectomy for December 8, 2006. That date I remember. The days between the day of the diagnosis and the surgery have been erased from my memory and replaced with bits and pieces of going in for scans and tests.
The surgery went so well I didn’t even need a transfusion. It was a radical right nephrectomy to remove my kidney, the tumor and the surrounding lymph nodes. The tumor was contained so there were no metastasis to the area around it. It had however spread to my left lung.
The doctor told us there were three small nodules in the lower part of the left lung. He did it in a very cold way. Being a surgeon, he did his duty, announced the surgery went well and that I had three nodules in my left lung, turned, and walked away without another word. Glenda was beside herself because she wanted to hear they were all gone. It was not to be.
In retrospect, I wish we had had them removed then but hindsight is always 20-20.
After my recovery from the operation, we went to the City of Hope for treatment. We grew up near the hospital and were familiar with it. My mother and two sister worked there so we thought it was the best place to go for treatment.
It has an excellent reputation and we were hopeful they would be able to get rid of the nodules and life would get back to normal, or as normal as normal can be after having cancer. Again, it was not to be.
In the winter of 2007, we started HDIL-2. A toxic treatment that requires staying in the ICU for a week for a period of four weeks. The side effects were intense. I was forced to lay on my back 24/7 or the alarms would go off. When I sleep, I sleep so deep the alarm would go off telling the nurses I had died. I felt like the boy who cried wolf. Every time the alarm went off, the nurse would come running in only to be told by Glenda that I was just sleeping. If I turned to my side, another alarm went off.
That meant I had to stay on my back the whole time less the stupid alarm went off again. A real adventure it lasted five days until they gave me the last dose of HDIL-2.
After recovering from the HDIL-2, we started taking Sutent. The adjustment period was also intense due to the side effects. Fatigue, nausea and lack of taste were the worst but I got through it. In fact, I am proud to say that I was able to go through college for two years while taking the Sutent. Once I adjusted to it, it wasn’t so bad though the SE’s were no less intense. It’s amazing how much a body can take once it gets used to something. It has now been four years on Sutent. Actually, there was a three month long break from it.
The cancer had progressed in January 2010. The lung nodules were now in both lungs and were too numerous to count. I had enlarged lymph nodes in my chest.
The lymph nodes are located in the media stinum area right near two major arteries and near the heart. They are operable but very risky and so the oncologist hesitates to operate. He says the risks outweigh the benefits. Sorry but when you have cancer there are no real risks that outweigh the benefits. I just want the cancer out of my body. I digress.
This progression caused us to change from Sutent to Afinitor, another targeted therapy. It was much too intense for me to take. I supposed I am allergic to it as the side effects nearly killed me. I still have not totally recovered from them and have been vomiting and dehydrating. Physically, I feel fine except for some weakness and fatigue.
It seems that I have to nap three or four times a day for an hour each time. I just get tired. I also imagine the cancer is progressing and moving to do its thing, which is troublesome. Still, we are hanging tough, as is our motto.
It is very hard to stay strong. The support and encouragement of friends and family is probably the most important part of this battle. I doubt I would have made it this far without it. People tell me all the time I am an inspiration and a mentor. The truth is that I draw my strength from all of the comments I receive. Whenever I begin feeling down, I remember there are people looking to me for strength and so I have to forge ahead less I disappoint anyone.
Manuel Lopez
California
Manuel is no longer with us as he won his battle against kidney cancer by the way he lived his life. He will live on in the hearts of those who knew and loved him.
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