In our family, 48-hour infusions were planned around tennis matches, surgical procedures strategically scheduled to not interfere with vacations, and general treatment strategies constantly balanced between likelihood of helping and not interfering with quality of life: 2 months after a left lower lung resection, my mom went skiing in Vermont; 2 weeks after a right breast mastectomy, she flew to Colorado; 7 days after brain radiation, she was doing the StairMaster in Aspen. We watched home infusion pumps go from large, laptop-sized bags to something as small as an iPhone, at least 4 cycles of “hair today, gone tomorrow,” and new combinatorial therapies tried, which had extended the average “life expectancy” from 4 months to 6 months when we were 10 years from diagnosis. Although we were unsure if our mom would make it to my bat mitzvah 8 months after her Whipple surgery in 2001, she beamed as she watched all 3 of us graduate college over the next decade. Mom’s vivaciousness surpasses any words worth writing: she was a beautiful and strong woman who just happened to have pancreatic cancer.

在我们的家庭中，计划在网球比赛期间进行48小时的输液，策略性地安排手术程序以不影响假期，并且一般治疗策略在帮助和不影响生活质量的可能性之间不断取得平衡：左下肺切除术后2个月，我妈妈去佛蒙特州滑雪；右乳房乳房切除术后2周，她飞往科罗拉多州。脑部放疗后7天，她正在阿斯彭（Aspen）做StairMaster。我们看到家用输液泵从大的笔记本电脑大小的袋子变成了像iPhone一样小的东西，至少进行了4次“今天的头发，明天消失了”，并且尝试了新的组合疗法，从而将平均“预期寿命”延长了距诊断10年后的4个月至6个月。尽管我们不确定我们妈妈是否会在2001年进行Whipple手术后的8个月内参加蝙蝠礼，但她仍在欢欣鼓舞，因为她看着我们接下来的十年中所有3人都毕业了。妈妈的生气勃勃无话可说：她是一个美丽而坚强的女人，刚好患有胰腺癌。