Once again I need to apologize for not writing for a while.  After writing the last part it was difficult to put myself through remembering the circumstances of our first trip to the hospital in Suwon.  I will try my best to fill in the rest of this story in short order and finish this difficult tale so that I can move on to better and more entertaining posts.  Everyday I think of something I’d like to blog about, but for now you are stuck with this.

     Immediately after giving us the diagnosis, and telling us that Chong Mi was stage 4 (terminal, but they didn’t explain that to us at that time) they gave us about 15 minutes to compose ourselves, then carted her downstairs to radiology to start her first radiation therapy session.  The radiologist was awesome, I will certainly never hold anything against her, she did the best she could, and was always positive.  Much to our collective surprise, Chong Mi took to the radiation like it was nothing.  It didn’t faze her at all; even the chemotherapy didn’t bother her much.  She didn’t even lose her hair!  The tumor responded nicely, shrinking away like we were all praying it would.  After about 7 weeks of treatment she was in remission!  This was excellent news, and it got our hopes up to the point that we believed everything would be OK.

     Chong Mi had to go back to the hospital once every three weeks to make sure that it stayed in remission.  On one of these visits they informed us that the tumor had started growing again.  Treatment would have to be resumed.  This time the tumor did not respond as favorably to either the radiation or the chemotherapy.  The doctor decided to use a stronger chemical cocktail to try to kill the tumor.  Chong Mi didn’t handle this nearly as well as she did the milder version.  She eventually lost her hair, but not her good attitude.  She kept her head up and stayed strong throughout the entire ordeal.  I’m sure that those of you who knew her are not at all surprised by this; she was well known and well loved for her attitude.

     The tumor was located between her uterine wall and her bladder.  This was the reason we were told that surgery was not an option.  I can’t explain how frustrating that was to me.  The fact that surgery was not an option was something I simply couldn’t fathom.  Here was a body part that it is not uncommon to go without, yet they are refusing to remove the offensive cesspool of disease.  We already had a daughter; we weren’t planning on having more kids, so just cut it out and let us go on with our lives.  I would much rather have a live wife dealing with hormone therapy than be a 30 year old widower.

     Of course, as it turned out, I had no choice in the matter.  We did the best we could, and she fought bravely while putting on a face that betrayed the pain she was suffering.  I will always remember how strong she was during all this, I will always be proud of her courage.

     Eventually the tumor created a hole between her bladder and uterus through which blood and urine constantly seeped.  The bleeding could not be controlled, and she had to receive transfusions almost daily.  It was at this point that the doctor informed us that there was not much more that they could do to help us.  She would not die from the cancer, but she would eventually bleed to death.  They recommended that we go home, find a local place to receive transfusions, and let her spend what time she had left in comfort.  Yeah, that sounds great, doc.  Fuck You!