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.)

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.

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.

Back to Reality

Last Monday, 22 June 2009, I went in to see my oncologist, Dr. G, and get my 4th treatment of erbitux and camptosar.

The good news is that I gained six pounds while I was in Hawaii. I'm now back up to 141 pounds.

The even better news is that the new treatment seems to be working; my CEA (a measure of a protein produced my cancer cells) went from around 30 before the trip to Hawaii to around 10 on Monday. (Normal is around 5.) This gives me a lot of hope that Frank's nasty little friends will be gone by the end of Summer.

Hawaii: Friday, 19 June

Sadly, our Hawaiian adventure had to end. We got up early Friday morning and headed for the airport. Traffic and rental car return went much quicker than I anticipated, so we sat around and chatted for a little while.

Then it was time for Vicki to board her flight home to Australia. We said our good-byes:


and waved at her through the security gate. And then she was gone.

Kyle, Marjorie, and I then found our gate, bought some lunch, and finally boarded our flight to the mainland. The first leg (to LAX) went smoothly and Kyle even managed a short nap:


In LA we found out that we had to change terminals to catch our flight to Orlando. Luckily, a very nice woman gave us a ride in one of those cool airport car thingies and saved us about twenty minutes of walking.

The red-eye flight to Orlando was packed, but Kyle managed to sleep for most of the flight. Marjorie and I - no so much.

My good friend Jim picked us up from the airport around 6:30 AM and by 7:30 AM we were home asleep in our own beds.