bloodrayne
05-29-2005, 02:37 PM
25-Pound Tumor Removed From Berkeley Man's Liver
Palo Alto - The prospect of removing a cancerous 25-pound tumor from John Frick's liver was daunting enough, but Dr. Sherry Wren got some stunning news the night before his surgery.
Wren, the chief of general surgery at the Palo Alto Veterans Affairs hospital, had always thought she would be able to deprive the tumor's arteries of their blood supply during surgery. But tests showed that such a strategy would make the surgery even riskier and make the 63-year-old Berkeley man's chances of survival far lower than the 50 percent she had expected.
"His tumor had arteries in it that were bigger than his liver's artery," Wren said. "It looked like a 20-pound turkey sitting in there.''
Even without weighing 25 pounds, such a gastrointestinal stromal tumor in the liver is rare and often inoperable because of the organ's large and precarious blood vessels. Wren's research found only one other example of the surgery being done in the world, and that was on a smaller tumor.
Although Frick's weight of about 180 pounds was fairly normal for a man 6 feet tall, Wren said he was malnourished. And instead of having the normal 6 pints of blood, his body had less than 4.
"The tumor was eating before he was," she said. "It was a giant parasite."
So on May 11, she and three other surgeons, three nurses, two anesthesiologists and a perfusionist (who focuses on circulation during surgery) battled the parasite. They managed to reroute blood away from Frick's stomach, carve around some blood vessels and cut and repair others.
Nine hours, 18 pints of blood and hundreds and hundreds of stitches later, the tumor was removed, and the surgery was declared a success. Wren said the cancer had not spread to other parts of Frick's body, and she believes the team got all of it.
But Frick still needed to be in intensive care for 12 days. His brother remembers how bad he looked during some of the early visits.
"There wasn't anything that didn't have a tube," Wesley Frick said. When he asked his brother how he felt, "he just made a slight, very nasty, hand gesture."
John Frick's spirit obviously hadn't died, either. The longtime mechanic and machinist, who grew up in San Francisco and spent most of the 1960s in the Army, said Friday that he had faith in his doctor and the medical center's staff, despite the odds.
Now the odds are very strong that Frick will be going home today. He leaves the hospital with a clear vision of what he wants for his life.
A crumb doughnut.
He tried to get one Friday at the hospital, but that particular type could not be found. The man who has had a problematic stomach for months also craves spaghetti with heavy sauce and some Thai noodles.
Looking back, Frick now figures the tumor had been around at least a couple of years, but grew rapidly in the last few months.
"I always had kind of a pot belly," he said. "I thought it was just good eating."
There were a few pains here and there, then it became acute last fall. His brother and girlfriend, Katy Huang, rushed him to the emergency room with stomach pains. Doctors discovered the tumor and tried chemotherapy, but couldn't stop its growth.
Frick believed the surgery was his only hope against the tumor. "I figured one way or another, it'd do me in," he said.
Doctors had to cut out more than 20 percent of Frick's normal liver, but Wren expects it to come back. "It's the only organ in the body that can regenerate," she said. "It stops at the same size it used to be. It's amazing."
She plans to see him again in a couple of weeks, mainly to make sure Frick keeps putting on weight.
"I haven't filled out," he said. "I've got more wrinkles in my arm than a Shar-Pei right now."
He said he had always been an optimist, and the surgery didn't change his outlook on life, although it reinforced his love of travel. He already plans to go to Oktoberfest in 2006 in Germany, a country that was part of his tour of duty in the 1960s, as the Berlin Wall went up.
Frick has no tubes and no external stitches left, and he walks about 20 minutes a day. He jokes a lot and talks about his surgery matter-of-factly. But there was one time Friday when his eyes welled up, as Wren sat near the foot of his hospital bed.
"The only reason I'm here," he said, "is due to this lady right here."
Palo Alto - The prospect of removing a cancerous 25-pound tumor from John Frick's liver was daunting enough, but Dr. Sherry Wren got some stunning news the night before his surgery.
Wren, the chief of general surgery at the Palo Alto Veterans Affairs hospital, had always thought she would be able to deprive the tumor's arteries of their blood supply during surgery. But tests showed that such a strategy would make the surgery even riskier and make the 63-year-old Berkeley man's chances of survival far lower than the 50 percent she had expected.
"His tumor had arteries in it that were bigger than his liver's artery," Wren said. "It looked like a 20-pound turkey sitting in there.''
Even without weighing 25 pounds, such a gastrointestinal stromal tumor in the liver is rare and often inoperable because of the organ's large and precarious blood vessels. Wren's research found only one other example of the surgery being done in the world, and that was on a smaller tumor.
Although Frick's weight of about 180 pounds was fairly normal for a man 6 feet tall, Wren said he was malnourished. And instead of having the normal 6 pints of blood, his body had less than 4.
"The tumor was eating before he was," she said. "It was a giant parasite."
So on May 11, she and three other surgeons, three nurses, two anesthesiologists and a perfusionist (who focuses on circulation during surgery) battled the parasite. They managed to reroute blood away from Frick's stomach, carve around some blood vessels and cut and repair others.
Nine hours, 18 pints of blood and hundreds and hundreds of stitches later, the tumor was removed, and the surgery was declared a success. Wren said the cancer had not spread to other parts of Frick's body, and she believes the team got all of it.
But Frick still needed to be in intensive care for 12 days. His brother remembers how bad he looked during some of the early visits.
"There wasn't anything that didn't have a tube," Wesley Frick said. When he asked his brother how he felt, "he just made a slight, very nasty, hand gesture."
John Frick's spirit obviously hadn't died, either. The longtime mechanic and machinist, who grew up in San Francisco and spent most of the 1960s in the Army, said Friday that he had faith in his doctor and the medical center's staff, despite the odds.
Now the odds are very strong that Frick will be going home today. He leaves the hospital with a clear vision of what he wants for his life.
A crumb doughnut.
He tried to get one Friday at the hospital, but that particular type could not be found. The man who has had a problematic stomach for months also craves spaghetti with heavy sauce and some Thai noodles.
Looking back, Frick now figures the tumor had been around at least a couple of years, but grew rapidly in the last few months.
"I always had kind of a pot belly," he said. "I thought it was just good eating."
There were a few pains here and there, then it became acute last fall. His brother and girlfriend, Katy Huang, rushed him to the emergency room with stomach pains. Doctors discovered the tumor and tried chemotherapy, but couldn't stop its growth.
Frick believed the surgery was his only hope against the tumor. "I figured one way or another, it'd do me in," he said.
Doctors had to cut out more than 20 percent of Frick's normal liver, but Wren expects it to come back. "It's the only organ in the body that can regenerate," she said. "It stops at the same size it used to be. It's amazing."
She plans to see him again in a couple of weeks, mainly to make sure Frick keeps putting on weight.
"I haven't filled out," he said. "I've got more wrinkles in my arm than a Shar-Pei right now."
He said he had always been an optimist, and the surgery didn't change his outlook on life, although it reinforced his love of travel. He already plans to go to Oktoberfest in 2006 in Germany, a country that was part of his tour of duty in the 1960s, as the Berlin Wall went up.
Frick has no tubes and no external stitches left, and he walks about 20 minutes a day. He jokes a lot and talks about his surgery matter-of-factly. But there was one time Friday when his eyes welled up, as Wren sat near the foot of his hospital bed.
"The only reason I'm here," he said, "is due to this lady right here."