Tag Archives: Tom Baker Cancer Centre

Keep Your Eyes on the Prize

When the provincial government unveiled the design for the new Calgary Cancer Centre last month, it was arguably the most significant moment for southern Alberta’s cancer community in a generation. The new centre will reportedly have twice as much space available for clinical trials and for patient treatment as the aging Tom Baker Centre now has. Construction of the facility at the Foothills Medical Centre, which is already Alberta’s largest hospital complex, will start later this year.

PCL Construction Management Inc. was awarded a $1.1 billion design-build contract for the cancer centre. Stantec in conjunction with DIALOG, will ultimately be responsible for the architectural and interior design of the new cancer centre, as well as structural and electrical engineering. Stantec will also provide civil and transportation engineering expertise.

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​The new facility will be located at the northeast corner of the Foothills campus. It will span more than one million square feet. The design includes a 1,650-stall underground parking garage and a 984-linear foot elevated walkway connecting it with other parts of the Foothills campus.

Services at the new cancer centre will include:

  • outpatient cancer clinics
  • more than 100 patient exam rooms
  • 160 inpatient unit beds
  • more than 100 chemotherapy chairs
  • clinical and operational support services
  • double the space for clinical trials
  • research laboratories
  • 12 radiation vaults
  • double the capacity to treat patients with the best technology

“What this building allows us to do is really integrate care across the cancer continuum and integrate cancer research and education within the cancer care delivery model,” said Dr. Sunil Verma, the medical lead for the new facility.

Verma said that with one in three Albertans expected to be diagnosed with cancer at some point in their lives and a five per cent growth rate each year, the existing Tom Baker Cancer Centre will soon be stretched beyond its capacity.

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Premier Rachel Notley (L), Associate Minister of Health Brandy Payne, and cancer survivor Susan Cardinal examine a 3D model of the future Calgary Cancer Centre.

Personally, I’ll miss the iconic Tom Baker Centre, but I look forward to the opening of a desperately needed new building. Like the majority of patients undergoing treatment at the Baker Centre I have mixed feelings regarding my experience. I’m definitely impressed by the top-notch care I’ve received from the dedicated staff and volunteers. However, I’m alarmed by the all too obviously crowded quarters. On my visits I find it impossible not to notice how filled to capacity the building is—I’ve been subjected to the overflowing parking lot, the busy chemotherapy beds and the standing room only waiting areas.

The Tom Baker Cancer Centre has been serving men and women diagnosed with cancer for approximately a generation now; it opened its doors over 30 years ago in the early 1980s. At the time, Albertan’s marveled at the spacious and innovative new facility. There was incredible pride in the centre by those involved in its creation. The building had been meticulously designed to provide cancer care for Calgary’s population of 600,000 and the rest of southern Alberta. What is more, the new Baker Centre had cutting-edge technology, a first-rate young staff and space, an abundance of space.

I can imagine what it was like for those involved, because the sense of joy and anticipation among patients and their loved ones is once again palpable. It’s a sweet victory, we’ve waited over a decade and withstood the disappointment of several broken promises to build a new Calgary cancer centre. I can’t be certain what my future will bring or what role the new cancer will play in my life. But with construction scheduled to begin in just a few months, and completion planned by 2023, I’m reminded of a popular American Civil Rights anthem.

Now only thing I did was wrong
Staying in the wilderness too long
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on

The only thing we did was right
Was the day we started to fight
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on

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The Waiting Game

 

“Of all the hardships a person had to face none was more punishing than
the simple act of waiting.” Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns

 

In this powerful quote Khaled Hosseini, the author of The Kite Runner and several other internationally acclaimed novels, speaks of the pain of waiting. Throughout my cancer journey waiting, along with uncertainty and fear, have been my constant unwelcome companions. Of course there have been the endless hours spent in doctor’s waiting rooms and waiting in diagnostic imaging departments for CT scans, MRIs and a multitude of tests. I can’t believe how accustomed I’ve become to these environments and to the monotonous routine that they now so strongly represent.

I close my eyes and I can visualize the waiting room chairs, the reception desk, sometimes a television for distraction, and always the tired and worried looks on the other patients’ faces. Some attempt to engage in small talk with other patients or with the caregivers who have accompanied them, others sit silently or try to read or distract themselves with electronic devices. My waiting time at the outpatient clinic at the Tom Baker Cancer Centre is typically half an hour to an hour. It’s common knowledge that Calgary is in dire need of a new cancer centre, as the Baker Centre is more than thirty years old and way over capacity with the volume of patients it now must serve.

waiting room

My memories of waiting for chemotherapy sessions in the late winter and early spring of 2012 are still extremely vivid in my mind. I can laugh now, but at my first appointment I was worried that some of the veteran chemotherapy patients might be able to tell that I was a newbie. They would ascertain that I looked too healthy and had all of my hair! When I arrived, I noticed that the people around me seemed to have many types and stages of cancer; what is more, a good number of them exhibited full heads of hair. After a short wait of approximately 15 minutes, a nurse led my mother and I into the Baker Centre’s large daycare treatment area. My heart beat faster as we reached my assigned space and I settled into a recliner by the window. The nurse explained what she was doing as she inserted my IV line and then attached some anti-nausea medication in preparation for the potent cancer-fighting drug, carboplatin.

As unpleasant as waiting for physical examinations and chemotherapy appointments can be, for many cancer patients it’s anticipating a future over which they have little control that seems so much more ominous and stressful. I live with the constant pressure of waiting for outcomes that I cannot completely control. When I was originally diagnosed with endometrial and ovarian cancer three years ago, I was referred to the Tom Baker Cancer Centre where my case was reviewed by the Gynecologic Oncology Tumour Board. This team of doctors and specialized pathologists reviews all new referrals to ensure correct diagnosis and to recommend the best treatment plan. Almost instantly I became the patient of one of Western Canada’s most renowned pelvic cancer surgeons, Dr. Prafull Ghatage.

hourglassMy first consultation with Dr. Ghatage now seems like a lifetime ago. In a few months I’m scheduled for another routine checkup at the Tom Baker Cancer Centre. It’s essential that I be monitored regularly for a possible recurrence or any signs of malignancy; ovarian cancer has a notoriously high recurrence rate. Many women with the disease face at least one recurrence within five years of their first diagnoses. Without resorting to an abundance of medical jargon, I’ve been diagnosed with stage IIIC2 adenocarcinoma of the uterus and stage IC adenocarcinoma of the ovary. As I await my next appointment on February 10, 2015, the encouraging news is that I’m currently in remission—at least I am to my knowledge—and my chances of a complete cure are better the longer I remain in this state. The Canadian Cancer Society defines remission as a decrease in or disappearance of signs and symptoms of cancer. In partial remission, some, but not all, signs and symptoms of cancer have disappeared. In complete remission, all signs and symptoms of cancer have disappeared, although cancer still may be in the body. According to Ovarian Cancer Canada, 80 per cent of women diagnosed with ovarian cancer will achieve remission.

However, it is unknown if the cancer will come back or how long before it comes back. These unanswered questions linger in every woman’s mind that has ever been diagnosed with cancer and all we can do is wait for the resolution. In the meantime, I’ve made my health my primary focus—a nutritious diet, an appropriate exercise routine and getting enough sleep have never been more important. Obviously I’m careful to take my daily medication; I’ve been prescribed the drug Megace (generic name megestrol), it has been known to reduce recurrence rates in uterine, ovarian and breast cancer patients. Finally, hope and my steadfast determination to live each moment of my life fully and completely remain my allies in this dreadful waiting game. “How much of human life is lost in waiting,” wrote the 19th century transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson. As I continue to face the many realities of cancer in the 21st century I can strongly relate to this long ago observation.

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The Crusade For a New Cancer Centre

simulatorAs I struggle through this cancer journey, I’m sincerely grateful to have access to some of North America’s top oncologists and cancer surgeons and to be offered cutting-edge treatment options. Calgary’s Tom Baker Cancer Centre is consistently ranked among the top ten treatment and research facilities in Canada. Despite its level of success, there is undeniable evidence that the venerable centre is showing its age and needs to be replaced. Politicians and health officials acknowledge that the building itself ran out of space approximately a decade ago. This isn’t surprising considering Calgary’s surging population. Add to this the fact that our demographic is changing and more people have reached a time of life when they are most at risk for cancer.

Like the majority of patients undergoing treatment at the Baker Centre I have mixed feelings regarding my experience. I’m definitely impressed by the top-notch care I’ve received from the dedicated staff and volunteers. However, I’m alarmed by the all too obviously crowded quarters. On my visits I find it impossible not to notice how filled to capacity the building is—I’ve been subjected to the overflowing parking lot, the busy chemotherapy beds and the standing room only waiting areas.

The Tom Baker Cancer Centre has been serving men and women diagnosed with cancer for approximately a generation now; it opened its doors 31 years ago in the early 1980s. At the time, Albertan’s marveled at the spacious and innovative new facility. There was incredible pride in the centre by those involved in its creation. The building had been meticulously designed to provide cancer care for Calgary’s population of 600,000 and the rest of southern Alberta. What is more, the new Baker Centre had cutting-edge technology, a first-rate young staff and space, an abundance of space.

While the centre’s first doctors once pondered how exactly they’d fill all the new space available to them, today’s oncologists, nurses and technicians grapple with cramped offices, crowded reception areas and patients lining the hallways waiting for treatment. Tom Baker has had four medical directors since 1981. The current medical director is Dr. Peter Craighead, who has been in the role for six years. “ I think all of us are concerned,” Craighead recently told reporters. “Our caregivers are pretty stressed by the lack of space, the lack of ability to grow.”

On March 1, 2013, the Alberta government took a fundamental step to address these issues and announced plans for a new cancer centre to be built in Calgary. “We know the need for cancer care will continue to grow, and we need a facility to increase capacity and improve patient care,” said Premier Alison Redford at the press conference. “This state-of-the-art facility will be a hub for cancer care for Calgary and southern Alberta.”

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Alison Redford and Health Minister Fred Horne

“The Tom Baker Cancer Centre has served Alberta well, but it was never designed to meet this level of demand,” added Health Minister Fred Horne. “This new facility will ensure services are integrated for more effective and seamless patient care, and will also maintain Alberta’s place as a leader in cancer research and education.”

Obviously this long awaited news has generated absolute delight in the staff at Calgary’s Baker Centre and in the approximately 19,200 patients that are currently undergoing cancer treatment in Calgary. The announcement has given many a reason to be cautiously optimistic that the Alberta government will fulfill its promise this time. There have been assurances in the past of a new cancer centre, only to have the project shelved when government funds were not made available. I agree with advocates who believe there is no alternative anymore but to replace the aging Tom Baker Centre, at least if we are to continue to provide first-rate cancer care in this city.

Baker Centre construction

The Baker Centre was expanded in the 1990s.

I expect that this time those in power are ultimately going to follow through because of the absolute urgency of the project. Also, the details that have been made public are more specific than in the past. The Alberta government has agreed to partner with the Alberta Cancer Foundation, which has already committed $200 million toward the project. According to the latest reports the province is still committed to the new centre. They’ve promised to spend $160 million over the next three years—including $20 million this year—to get the project up and running. While the province originally said that it expected to get started on construction in 2015, it’s now indicating that work on the colossal $1.3-billion facility won’t get underway until 2016.

An opening day for the centre is currently pegged for summer 2020. One thing is guaranteed; it will take a lot of collaboration and mutual resolve before Calgary’s new ultramodern cancer centre finally comes to fruition. Of course, the Alberta government and the Alberta Cancer Foundation must lead the way, but the philanthropy of private individuals and the generosity of Calgary’s corporate community will also perform a crucial role.

Meanwhile, the oncologists at the Baker Centre have informed me that if I continue to stay in remission until 2017 they will consider my therapy finished. In due course, their plan is to place me back into the care of my family doctor and gynaecologist. There will be no more need for regular checkups or treatments from cancer specialists, and I will essentially be declared cancer-free. My ultimate dream is that this extraordinary moment will occur, and that it will occur for thousands of patients after me in Calgary’s brand new state-of-the art cancer centre!

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Inside The Tom Baker Cancer Centre

50eb27d44683b9c588386c68616fI’ve been a patient at Calgary’s Tom Baker Cancer Centre for over two years now, but it’s occurred to me that I haven’t presented a detailed description of southern Alberta’s primary cancer treatment and research facility in my blog. Perhaps I was waiting for the perfect time to focus on this topic in The Teal Diaries, and since my next scheduled appointment at the centre’s outpatient clinic is in approximately one week, writing down some of my thoughts and feeling about the building and its dedicated staff seems highly appropriate. Prior to my cancer diagnosis I had virtually no knowledge of the Tom Baker Centre. Like most people in Calgary I was aware of its location and had observed it numerous times at the sprawling Foothills Medical Centre, however I had never actually been inside the building. Every time I saw the five-storey cement structure, I hoped I would never be required to enter it. The very name “Baker Centre” would set off a wave of powerful thoughts and emotions—in my mind I identified it as a place where cancer patients went to receive treatment, and sometimes to die.

My first time inside was on a cold, dark November morning. Since it was my initial assessment the team of oncologists had scheduled me early, before anyone else. I still remember how terrified I was and how unexpectedly quiet and peaceful everything seemed to me at that hour. My mother and I were essentially the only ones present in the waiting room of the gynecology clinic. Soon I was having a detailed conversation with a nurse about my medical history, naturally there was an emphasis on any family history of cancer. Next, I was examined by one of the Baker Centre’s top pelvic cancer surgeons, Dr. Prafull Ghatage. Following my examination, my mother and I were assembled in one of the Baker Centre’s conference rooms with Dr. Ghatage and a team of other physicians. The seriousness of my situation began to register as I looked across the table at four of five white-coated medical professionals. Dr. Ghatage explained that he wanted to perform surgery as soon as possible. This news was overwhelming, especially since I had just undergone a total abdominal hysterectomy three weeks earlier that had resulted in a cancer diagnosis. “I just had a hysterectomy and now I’m dying of cancer,” I tearfully blurted out. “You’re not dying, I’ll inform you if you are dying,” a voice immediately responded. These rational words jolted me back to reality, and before we left I signed a consent form for a laparotomy—a specialized procedure in which abdominal organs are removed, biopsied or repaired and a definitive diagnosis can be made.

Baker Centre buildingAll gynecologic cancer surgery and subsequent recovery actually takes place on Unit 42 B in the Foothills Hospital, but I was back at the adjacent Tom Baker Centre approximately two months later. This time it was to have the necessary follow-up chemotherapy. It was at this point that I began to realize how self-contained, busy and efficient the renowned Tom Baker Cancer Centre is. First my mom and I attended one of the centre’s chemotherapy orientation sessions. It included a tour of the daycare unit where specialized nurses administer powerful anticancer drugs to a steady steam of patients. About 90 patients a day receive treatment in 39 daycare treatment spaces, some of the spaces feature beds and some have reclining style chairs. Naturally, I was apprehensive when the day arrived for my first cycle of carboplatin; I was scheduled for six cycles with each treatment 21 days apart. Of course, I’d been warned about the inevitable side effects including fatigue, weakness and nausea. It was also predicted that my hair might become thinner, but that I probably wouldn’t lose my shoulder length bob completely. As a precaution, I had it cut into a much shorter pixie style.

I can laugh now, but I was rather worried that some of the veteran chemotherapy patients might be able to tell that I was a newbie. They would ascertain that I looked too healthy and had all of my hair! When I arrived for my first session, I noticed that the people around me seemed to have many types and stages of cancer—what is more, a good number of them exhibited full heads of hair. After a short wait, a nurse led my mother and I into the Baker Centre’s large daycare treatment area. My heart beat faster as we reached my assigned space and I settled into a recliner by the window. The nurse explained what she was doing as she inserted my IV line and then attached some anti-nausea medication in preparation for the potent cancer-fighting drug, carboplatin.

Chemotherapy IV

Somehow the hustle and bustle of the busy daycare area had a calming effect on me, as did being in the presence of the staff and so many other patients. I left my first chemotherapy appointment extremely impressed by all that the Baker Centre does to make the procedure less stressful and more comfortable for each patient. I’ll never forget being offered coffee, tea and cookies by one of their devoted volunteers. Having been through treatment, I can appreciate how incredibly challenging it is for the team to meet the individual needs of thousands of men and women diagnosed with cancer. I was later astonished to learn that there were 20,100 chemotherapy appointments at Calgary’s Tom Baker Centre in the 2010-11 fiscal year. In my next blog post I’ll discuss some of the issues as the centre struggles to keep up with an ever-increasing demand for its services.

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Living With the Risk of Recurrence

For me personally, the greatest stress of living with cancer has involved making difficult medical decisions regarding my course of treatment. There is also the constant pressure of waiting for outcomes that I cannot completely control. When I was diagnosed with endometrial and ovarian cancer in late 2011, I was referred to the Tom Baker Cancer Centre where my case was reviewed by the Gynecologic Oncology Tumour Board. This team of doctors and specialized pathologists reviews all new referrals to ensure correct diagnosis and to recommend the best treatment plan. Almost instantly I became the patient of one of Western Canada’s most renowned pelvic cancer surgeons, Dr. Prafull Ghatage. I’ll never forget our first encounter with Dr. Ghatage, as my mother and I sat in stunned silence, he calmly explained that I required surgery as soon as possible. This news was overwhelming, especially since I had just undergone a total abdominal hysterectomy performed by my gynecologist. “I just had a hysterectomy and now I’m dying of cancer,” I tearfully blurted out. “You’re not dying, I’ll inform you if you are dying,” a voice immediately responded. These rational words jolted me back to reality, and before we left I signed a consent form for a laparotomy—a specialized procedure in which abdominal organs are removed, biopsied or repaired and a definitive diagnosis can be made.

That first meeting with Dr. Ghatage now seems like a lifetime ago. In a few weeks I’m scheduled for another routine checkup at the cancer centre. It’s essential that I be monitored regularly for a possible recurrence or any signs of malignancy—ovarian cancer has a notoriously high recurrence rate. Many women with the disease face at least one recurrence within five years of their first diagnoses. Since my cancer is considered to be fairly advanced, the standard course of treatment that was recommended included a month and a half of radiation therapy. Originally over twenty rounds of external beam radiation were advised and were to follow my cycles of chemotherapy. My understanding is that following through with this proposal might have reduced my odds of recurrence to as low as five or 10 per cent.

Last fall I made the excruciatingly difficult decision to forego treatment with radiation, opting for observation instead. The risks of pelvic radiation include the possibility of rectal bleeding—in addition some patients will experience a bowel blockage or a permanent change in bowel habits after their treatments are finished. In some cases undergoing radiation can result in bowel or bladder damage serious enough to be permanent or to require surgical intervention to correct. For most cancer patients the benefits outweigh these serious risks, which are comparatively small. But due to my personal medical history it’s almost certain that radiation would have posed a substantial danger. The radiation oncologist informed me that due to my previous bowel blockage the possibility of acute complications occurring would be much higher than average. Besides, I was undeniably exhausted from three consecutive abdominal surgeries in addition to five cycles of Carboplatin, at the time I felt I could endure little more.

simulator

As I await my appointment on May 23, the encouraging news is that I’m currently in remission—at least I am to my knowledge—and my chances of a complete cure are better the longer I remain in this state. The Canadian Cancer Society defines remission as a decrease in or disappearance of signs and symptoms of cancer. In partial remission, some, but not all, signs and symptoms of cancer have disappeared. In complete remission, all signs and symptoms of cancer have disappeared, although cancer still may be in the body. According to Ovarian Cancer Canada, 80 per cent of women diagnosed with ovarian cancer will achieve remission. However, it is unknown if the cancer will come back or how long before it comes back. These unanswered questions linger in every woman‘s mind. In the meantime, I’ve made my health my primary focus—a nutritious diet, an appropriate exercise routine and getting enough sleep have never been more important. Obviously I’m careful to take my daily medication; I’ve been prescribed the drug Megace (generic name megestrol), it has been known to reduce recurrence rates in uterine, ovarian and breast cancer patients. Finally, hope and my steadfast determination to live each moment of my life fully and completely remain my allies in this dreadful waiting game.

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Information Please

The moment I was diagnosed with cancer I entered a psychological realm where wanting to know everything about the disease alternated with fear and aversion. I realized it was solemn news when a week after my hysterectomy the phone range and my surgeon wanted to see me immediately. As I sat in my gynecologist’s office on that autumn afternoon, he was thoughtful enough to provide me with my own copy of the surgical pathology report, a crucial document outlining the specifics of my uterine and ovarian cancer. He estimated that it would be a couple of weeks before I could have a consultation with a team of oncologists at the Tom Baker Cancer Centre. In the coming days I developed a love-hate relationship with the information that I had been given. Numb and in shock, I read over the three-page report repeatedly, meticulously researching the strange and frightening medical terminology.

I read the words endometroid adenocarcinoma for the first time, I didn’t comprehend until much later that I had learned my enemy’s name. Derived from the words “adeno” meaning pertaining to a gland and “carcinoma” meaning a cancerous tumour, the disease is a formidable adversary. One organ that is commonly affected includes the lining of the uterus, or endometrium. Adenocarcinoma is even more frequently diagnosed in the colon or the lungs. My surgical pathology report contained many confusing and ominous terms. I never thought of my reproductive organs as a possible death sentence, but that’s what the report seemed to be implicating. References to yellowish tan neoplasm and a uterine tumour measuring 11 centimetres at its greatest dimension both sickened and terrified me! At another point I started to pity my tiny right ovary. To make the personification complete, I’m sure she fought a valiant battle, but she was strangled by a separate tumour of about 7 centimetres.

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I’ve come a long way since I first read that menacing pathology report nearly a year and a half ago. My ability to deal with medical information and to collaborate with my health care team has improved since then. Today, I offer the following advice to cancer patients and their caregivers. In a broader sense these recommendations could probably apply to anyone facing a serious health crisis.

Knowledge is Power

You are the most important member of your cancer care team and it’s essential to actively participate in your care. Pay close attention throughout the process of your care and participate fully in discussions with your oncologist and other medical specialists. Don’t hesitate to raise any concerns with your oncologist or with other appropriate health care professionals on your cancer team. If something doesn’t seem right or you sense that certain issues aren’t being addressed speak up!

Find the Right Balance

Never in my life have I felt so simultaneously overwhelmed by an abundance of medial information and frustrated by a lack of it. This ambiguity of emotions is understandable in cancer patients as they undergo treatment for some of the most complex and difficult to understand diseases within the realm of medical science. Personally, I’ve discovered that tension and anxiety occur unless a balance of information about my cancer is achieved (not too much and not too little). In my opinion, this ideal equilibrium will vary. It also depends largely on an individual’s psychological makeup and is more often than not impossible to maintain constantly.

Use Only Reliable Sources

Simply explained, every cell in the body has a tightly regulated system that dictates when it needs to grow, mature and eventually die off. Cancer occurs when cells lose this control and divide and proliferate indiscriminately. Theories, treatments and possible explanations for cancer are abundant. They range from the factual or medically proven to the bizarre, absurd and downright dangerous. Regrettably there are a few contemptible individuals who knowingly try to profit from cancer patients or exploit our unique physical, emotional and psychological needs. I appreciate that the most specific and reliable information comes from my oncologist and the related medical professionals on my cancer care team. When I access printed materials or the abundance of online resources that are available, I am highly selective. I’d like to conclude this post by listing a few prominent organizations that I recommend.

The Canadian Cancer Society   http://www.cancer.ca

The American Cancer Society   http://www.cancer.org

CancerNet  http://www.cancer.net/cancer-types/uterine-cancer

 Ovarian Cancer Canada   http://www.ovariancanada.org

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