Smooth Reality

Yesterday my friend Robert changed his Facebook status to say that he was in the hospital again (due to a high fever). So I asked if I should sneak in a bottle of Jack Daniels (one of Robert's few remaining joys in life). He thought I was joking and said yeah.

Within an hour Marjorie and I picked up a bottle of Gentleman Jack and were at Robert's bedside.

At first Robert said he shouldn't drink any since they were going to take blood samples the next morning. Then he decided he could crack open the bottle and at least smell it. Then Robert decided a little taste wouldn't hurt. He said it tasted very smooth and quickly asked for more.

Then the nurse came in and announced that she needed some blood for the lab. Now.

Hopefully we haven't screwed-up his blood work too much and lengthened his stay at the hospital - "Hmmm Robert, we got some odd results back on your blood work, better stay another day or two while we rerun the tests."

P.S. Robert is at Winter Park Hospital in room 2205. If you know him, give him a call (407-646-7517), it will make his time in the hospital a little smoother.

Life goes on: Harsher Reality

No there's no logic to this
who's picked to stay or go
if you think too hard it only makes you mad
but your optimism made me think
you really had it beat
so I didn't get a chance to say goodbye

"No chance - Regret"
Lou Reed

A couple weeks ago, I bumped into my friend Robert during treatment. Robert is my hero - two years ago he was told that he had four months to live. He has fought his cancer with amazing energy and tenacity.

Sadly, Robert's fight is nearing its end. I won't go into all of the details, but suffice to say that Robert told me that it's "weird shopping for your own urn."

It's hard for me to sort out all of my feelings here; Robert is not a close friend, but he is a friend. Also, as bad as my treatment has gotten at various points, I've always known that Robert has endured far worse and won. I'm sad for Robert, his family, and (pathetically) myself. However, I'm also glad that Robert is in control of his own fate (since he gets to choose his time). I'm glad that he has had these past two years with his friends and family.

For now though, I need to figure out what I can do for Robert and his family. Robert is still fighting and maybe I can help. Life goes on.

Harsh Reality

So I'm a bit bummed today; I got the results from my latest CEA (a measure of a protein produced by my cancer cells) and it wasn't what I was hoping for.

About a month ago, my CEA was down to 10.9 (~5 is normal), but today it's at 22.4. Now I know that these things fluctuate and I know that I shouldn't get worked-up about one test result, but I'm still disappointed. I thought I was making great progress and I was hoping that this phase of treatment might be over soon. 'guess not.