My Team

I am feeling better today, thank heavens! I'm even writing this sitting up, which is saying a lot. 

Now that I can lift my attention from the individual moment, I want to devote a post to introducing my support team. A friend has taken to annotating texts that mention supporting me with #Team Amalia, and I feel a warm glow every time I see it. I do indeed have a great team.

The Medical Team

I have not one, or even two, but three oncologists.

Surgical Oncologist: This is the one I saw first and who put my port in. Mostly he'll be waiting in the wings until after my chemo/immunotherapy to see if surgery is recommended at that time. If it is, I'll be extra glad that everyone says he's the very best.

Medical Oncologist: This is the one I saw second and who is in charge of my treatment and day-to-day care. He is also highly recommended. I am deeply grateful for the level of accessibility that he and his practice provide for their patients. If I have a concern, I get an answer within minutes. He reassured me today that as we get to know how I react to chemo, better countermeasures to the side effects can be deployed. I am greatly relieved!

Research Oncologist: I have also been to see an oncologist who specifically researches mesothelioma at Johns Hopkins and who also comes with the highest recommendation. She helped to tailor my treatment protocol to my health history and genetic profile, which included getting carboplatin instead of cisplatin and getting my vitamin B12 shot a few days before my first treatment instead of during it. She will be able to connect me with the latest treatments and with clinical trials in the future.

In general, it's been gratifying how knowledgeable, attentive, and helpful all the doctors, nurses, and other medical staff have been. The nurses deserve special recognition for their unflagging care in the absence of the prestige with which physicians are compensated. 

It has been gratifying but very odd to get extremely prompt service, such as appointments within a day or two of requesting them, not the "Dr So-and-So has a free appointment slot in three months" that I'm way too used to in other healthcare contexts. It's yet another way in which having cancer puts you in a new and strange world. I can't help think of the supposed ancient Chinese curse: May you come to the attention of important people.

The Home Team

I couldn't ask for a better home team. The players are

Anand, husband: Anand is driving me to appointments, reading me stories, running errands, and learning about the household finances so as to be able to fill in for (or take over from) me. He's been juggling his teaching schedule at Johns Hopkins remarkably well under the circumstances.

Gita, daughter: Gita canceled her class at Spelman College, closed up her house in Atlanta, packed up her two cats, and moved in to help take care of me. Thanks to her channeling her inner Indian grandmother, she got my caloric intake back on track. She is working on her Emory postdoc remotely this semester.

I don't know where I'd be without the two of them. 

There are also the cats, of which there are now four. We are working very slowly toward integration. For now I'm just glad we bought a larger house than we thought we needed when we moved to Maryland as empty nesters.

The Away Team

These are all the wonderful people who are supporting me and my family in various ways. You know who you are! People have

• texted, emailed, and called with messages of support
• written an actual letter on real stationery
• sent cards or flowers
• come over to visit
• sent useful, meaningful and/or whimsical (pictured) gifts 
• suggested music for my playlists
• shared experiences with cancer and chemo
• coined #Team Amalia

From a member of the Away Team