So I managed to weasel out of treatment on 5 October 2009. This was partly because I weighed in at 138 pounds, but mostly because I had a fever of 101 degrees.
Normally, the doctors and nurses tell you that you need to call in immediately if your temperature gets over 100.5. (The implication is that they will then send your butt to the hospital.)
Luckily for me, Dr. G (my oncologist) asked me if I wanted to go the hospital or just have my blood drawn at the treatment center and then go home. I picked "draw blood and go home". So the very nice nurses proceeded to draw my blood - lots of it. I ended up "giving" four bottles of blood that looked a lot like Tabasco bottles (especially when they were full).
Later that week they called to say all of the tests came back negative for infection and that the cancer in my liver may be what is causing my fever.
So, now I have yet another symptom/side-effect to deal with. Fun!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Size Zero?
Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug
"The Bug"
Mark Knopfler
For the last two weeks, I have definitely been the bug. The new "everything including the kitchen sink" treatment is kicking my ass. At my oncologist's appointment two weeks ago, 8 September 2009, when I weighed in, I was 146 pounds. Yesterday I was 137. (Clearly I need to eat more lard.)
In addition to having zero energy and being nauseous all of the time, I also managed to have diarrhea and constipation at the same time. I won't go into the details, but it was confusing, weird, and just plain gross.
Dr. G has cut back my chemo drugs by 20% this round, so maybe I won't be the bug this next two weeks. We shall see.
Sometimes you're the bug
"The Bug"
Mark Knopfler
For the last two weeks, I have definitely been the bug. The new "everything including the kitchen sink" treatment is kicking my ass. At my oncologist's appointment two weeks ago, 8 September 2009, when I weighed in, I was 146 pounds. Yesterday I was 137. (Clearly I need to eat more lard.)
In addition to having zero energy and being nauseous all of the time, I also managed to have diarrhea and constipation at the same time. I won't go into the details, but it was confusing, weird, and just plain gross.
Dr. G has cut back my chemo drugs by 20% this round, so maybe I won't be the bug this next two weeks. We shall see.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Status Update
I went to see my oncologist, Dr. G, on Monday, 24 August 2009.
The good news is my weight is up to 142.8 pounds.
The bad news is that was the only good news.
The results of the PET scan show that Frank's evil little minions are spreading: the spots in my liver and right lung have gotten bigger, I now have a spot in my left lung, a couple of my lymph nodes in my abdomen have spots, and my left hip bone and sternum have spots too. (This last one explains why I constantly feel like I've been punched in the chest.)
So, what's next?
Not urn shopping.
We're going to try everything all at once: the erbitux, camptosar, and the 5FU (via the fun take-home pump). The difference this time is we are going to more aggressively manage the side effects. Treatments will be every two weeks, so hopefully I feel somewhat human every other week.
Also, if the pain in my sternum gets too bad, I might go in for more radiation.
This cancer stuff is more fun than a kick in the head! (But not really.)
The good news is my weight is up to 142.8 pounds.
The bad news is that was the only good news.
The results of the PET scan show that Frank's evil little minions are spreading: the spots in my liver and right lung have gotten bigger, I now have a spot in my left lung, a couple of my lymph nodes in my abdomen have spots, and my left hip bone and sternum have spots too. (This last one explains why I constantly feel like I've been punched in the chest.)
So, what's next?
Not urn shopping.
We're going to try everything all at once: the erbitux, camptosar, and the 5FU (via the fun take-home pump). The difference this time is we are going to more aggressively manage the side effects. Treatments will be every two weeks, so hopefully I feel somewhat human every other week.
Also, if the pain in my sternum gets too bad, I might go in for more radiation.
This cancer stuff is more fun than a kick in the head! (But not really.)
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Now with less nasty Taste!
On Monday, 17 August 2009, I went in for yet another PET scan.
Typically, the process involves:
1. getting injected with a radioactive sugar solution
2. drinking a cup of "contrast" solution
3. waiting 90 minutes for the sugar solution to circulate
4. drinking another cup of contrast solution
5. getting a 20 minute CT scan
Normally the contrast solution tastes like stale, moldy ass juice. However, my nurse had good news for me: the solution tasted better now. And he was right; it tasted like light sugar water with just a hint of ass juice.
Now this may not seem like such a big deal, but after spending the last year and a half being poked, prodded, sliced, diced, poisoned, and fed various noxious things, I'll take any improvement I can get.
Typically, the process involves:
1. getting injected with a radioactive sugar solution
2. drinking a cup of "contrast" solution
3. waiting 90 minutes for the sugar solution to circulate
4. drinking another cup of contrast solution
5. getting a 20 minute CT scan
Normally the contrast solution tastes like stale, moldy ass juice. However, my nurse had good news for me: the solution tasted better now. And he was right; it tasted like light sugar water with just a hint of ass juice.
Now this may not seem like such a big deal, but after spending the last year and a half being poked, prodded, sliced, diced, poisoned, and fed various noxious things, I'll take any improvement I can get.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, July 24, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
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.
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.
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