Jane’s last waking hours
We were watching a “Frazier” rerun in Jane’s hospital room four years ago today. Jane had not slept much the night before but we had moved her out of bed earlier. Now she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. The nurse asked her if she wanted to get back in bed and take a nap—and she did.
…you’ll be making a difference in the lives of carcinoid/NETs patients…
Moving Jane from the chair to the bed meant getting her back into a sling that hung from a crane. I remember having to support her head as we moved her that morning—something I had not had to do before. Alarm bells should have gone off in my head at this new weakness, but we had been in the hospital for more than a month. I had helped change her bedclothes after multiple episodes of diarrhea, walked her through two comas, major heart surgery, and, just the week before, the installation of a pacemaker.
Everything looked promising
Neither of us had gotten much sleep the night before, but I was more optimistic every day that we were headed in the right direction in this long battle against her NET cancer. She had begun physical therapy again two days before and today was the third day in a row she’d been able to spend time out of her bed.
I had helped change her bedclothes after multiple episodes of diarrhea…
I held her hand as she fell asleep—and continued to do so as I read once she was napping.
Jane’s last carcinoid attack
Maybe 45 minutes later the nurse came in to take Jane’s blood pressure. While Jane was on a monitor, sometimes it would stop working because of her position and how thin her arms were. The nurse said she was checking it manually because of that ongoing problem.
…I was more optimistic every day…
But the monitor wasn’t the problem. Jane’s blood pressure was crashing as a new carcinoid attack went coursing through her body. This time there was nothing left we could do to stop it. Thirty-eight hours later, she would be dead.
What we learned from Jane’s case
In four months, from Jane’s single case, her doctors told me, we had essentially doubled our knowledge of carcinoid syndrome and NET cancer. It isn’t that we learned that much, it is that we knew so little. But Jane was a scientist—and she knew how important even the small amounts doctors and researchers could learn from her body as it dealt with the disease could be.
Thirty-eight hours later, she would be dead.
The world of NET cancer has changed a lot in the four years since Jane’s death. We’ve found some new techniques that can slow down its advance and discovered new methods that can help us detect it more reliably. And we know a lot more about the genetics that drive the disease. But we still have nothing that looks like a cure.
The search for answers
Each year since Jane’s death, I’ve taken on the Boston Marathon Jimmy Fund Walk to raise money for the Program in Neuroendocrine and Carcinoid Tumors at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute to help find answers to the strange cancer that killed her. From those four walks I’ve personally raised over $45,000 for the cause.
…we still have nothing that looks like a cure.
I’ll walk again on September 20, 2015 and serve as captain of the NETwalkers Alliance team—a new name for the Caring for Carcinoid/Walking with Jane, Hank and Anne team I’ve worked with the last four years. Every penny we raise will go to researching carcinoid/NETs and finding a cure for the disease that killed my wife.
You can help
You can help in one of two ways. First, you can join our Walk team. You can walk the full 26.2 miles of the historic Boston Marathon course from Hopkinson to Boston, or you can walk 13.1 miles along the same course, starting in Wellesley, or you can walk five miles from Cleveland Circle, or three miles from the Jimmy Fund Clinic. In each of those cases, you’ll need to raise $300. Or you can be a Virtual Walker, cover no distance, and raise whatever you can.
I’ll walk again on September 20, 2015…
Second, you can make a donation to my walk, to another walker on our team, or to our team in general.
Either way, you’ll be making a difference in the lives of carcinoid/NETs patients–and hastening the day I can stand at my wife’s grave and tell her that her cancer will never kill another living soul.
Pax et lux,
Harry Proudfoot
NETwalkers Alliance
(Formerly Caring for Carcinoid/Walking with Jane, Hank, and Anne)