Living With Cancer

OK, Campers. Living. With. Cancer. . .

These three words will pretty well define the rest of my life, however long that may be.  There may be times that there are no signs of disease, but it will still be lurking in my bloodstream until it finds the next place to settle.  But, this is all OK because the operative word of this equation is LIVING!!!

I'm mostly in a holding pattern for now, receiving chemo one day a week.  So far, so good on side effects.  No nausea and just a slight rash on my face, though I have never had a rash on my nose before.  Weird.  And my blood thinner has switched to Eliquis in pill form so Nurse Ratchett, er. . .  Elaine, no longer has to give me shots twice a day.

And a follow-up on my last post about fairness in life.  As someone once said, if life was fair, Elvis would be alive and the impersonators would be dead.

And, we'll be getting out tonight to go to a Halloween party at some friends' house.  That will be the first time out that is not to go to a doctor/hospital or to Publix for provisions in a few weeks.  Life is good!!

Peace and love to all,
Joe

A Flash of Memory

OK, Campers, I remember what I wanted to say in the last post, and, frankly it's not that interesting. . .  

But here goes anyway.  Part of the side effects of the chemo are the facts that this is the time I'll lose my hair.  And, my face will most likely break out in an acne-like rash.  Actually, it has started to already.  Elaine has already remarked that with the rash and the change in my sleep habits which have me rising in the 11 - noon time frame, I am channeling my inner teenager.  She's a clever one, my Elaine is!!

On a more serious note, I am sort of flattered by all the people who tell me that I'm such a good guy that this just isn't fair.  I'd like to agree, but, sadly, 'fair' has nothing to do with it.  The reaper sows, the reapers reaps.  I wish more than anyone that this was not the case, but it is.  And we're coping.  The fact that I have the most fantastic group of friends and supporters makes it easier to bear, but it is a load I never saw coming.  But my body talks to me and it hasn't been wrong yet.  And it is telling me that I'm going to be around a while longer than 18 months.  So, my loyal readers, know that you're stuck with me a while!!

Well, time to get some sleep as the next two days will be spend at Moffitt, including 7 hours of infusion on Friday.  But everybody's got to be somewhere!!

Peace and love,
Joe

Well, Campers, sorry for the lull in postings, but I guess I'm just taking a while to get used to having a shelf life.  But, that's the way it is, this 28th day of October, 2015, which happens to be my 65th birthday.  Oh, thanks to one and all for all the birthday wishes!!  Really made my day!!

But, all in all, I'm doing OK.  Tonight is trivia night and we're hoping to make it for at least a little bit.    And Elaine has to be tired of just going to work and then to my various Doctor appointments.  She needs a break more than I do.

Now I know that I had thought about what I wanted to write here today and had it all planned out.  But I somehow forgot what it was.  Getting old and having chemo brain on top of that is a b*tch, let me tell you!!  Hopefully I'll remember what it was and get it down next time 'cause it was truly epic!!

Peace and love to all!

The Cycle Begins

Well, Campers, today was my first 7-hour marathon chemo session,  And I am beat!!

Yesterday was blood draw, a chest x-ray, and a talk with Dr. Russell, my medical oncologist.  All is 'normal', given that I have a huge cancerous mass in my left lung.  But just having the treatment start gives me renewed confidence that I'm going to beat this thing

It's still hard to accept.  I mean, one day, I'm feeling pretty good, all things considered, and then it's slam. bam,  Yankee Doodle Dandy and I find out I now have a shelf life. 

But we've all kept and used things well beyond that printed shelf life. . .

Peace and love,
Joe

Let the Games Begin!

Well, Campers, tomorrow, Friday, begins my marathon chemotherapy session.  Today, I was at Moffitt to have blood drawn and to meet with the Doctor.  All systems are go for about 7 hours of chemo tomorrow.  Be still, my heart!

In one way, it's a relief; after a few weeks of waiting, we will finally make some progress in fighting the disease.  On the other hand, it's somewhat terrifying as I will be on new ground.  Yeah, I did have three rounds of chemo a year ago, but nothing like the barrage I'll be facing.  But, it's what I have to do to beat this miserable disease, so it will be done.

Not much more to add as we are in the calm before the storm.  More news to follow soon.

Peace and love to all!!
Joe

Idle Thoughts from an Idle Mind

Well, Campers, just to share some idle thoughts as I ride the rails. . .

First, let me establish that just because I've arbitrarily been given 18 months that I'm buying it.  I have absolutely no intention of checking out then but intend on being a pain in Elaine's side until we're both in our dotage.

But, I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about the end of the line and you, my astute readers, would know that I was handing you a pound of horse hooey.  What's kind of funny is that in normal day to day living, we really never contemplate death much.  (Unless we're some kind of Woody Allen-esque wacko who thinks of nothing else.). But when you're told what your expected expiration date is, the game seems to change a bit.

We all know the litanies about how we could die tomorrow, being struck down in the prime of life by a runaway beer truck.  Yes, we think, that could happen but it's highly unlikely and we're going to haunt Mother Earth till we're ancient.

But once you've been given that estimate, it plays on your mind.  And I'm finding that I now feel invincible, knowing that I nominally have 18 months.  A few weeks ago, I had no idea how much longer my ticket was good for; now I sort of do (if I choose to believe what the doctors say).  It's totally irrational, I know, but I bizarrely feel safe.  I won't get hit by that mythical beer truck tomorrow, nor will I be collateral damage to a suicide bomber.  I have at least 18 months, by God!!!

It's a sort of surreal freedom, in the Bobby McGee sense of  "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose."  But I look forward to my freedom and hope to enjoy the rest of the ride, however long it is.

As alway, peace and love to you, my loyal readers.

Joe

Here We Go Again

Well, Campers, it’s been a while, so this will be long and newsy. . .

Let’s start with some background.   Back in August of 2014, I had a PET Scan and was pronounced free of disease.  I rested some more and went back to work in March 2015 for half days.  For about six months, my world was spinning on greased grooves.

Then, about 4 – 6 weeks ago, I noticed that the fatigue was not improving and I was short of breath a lot, after even minimal activity.  I had some doctor appointments and they ran another CT Scan.  Well, a new mass showed up in my left lung that had not been there in November and was constricting my airways.  I was then scheduled for a biopsy, though the doctors had a pretty good idea what it would reveal.

So, l had the biopsy and went back to Moffitt last Tuesday for the results.  In the 2-3 days leading up to that trip, my shortness of breath got steadily worse.   When I got to my appointment with Dr. Russell, it was pretty obvious that something was not right.  Now let me interject a little humor into the proceedings. . .   When the techs were taking my vitals, one of the connections was not good so my blood oxygen level registered at a level usually reserved for dead people.  So the hospital version of an APB went out and within seconds, my room and the hallway outside was filled with nurses and techs who popped up like prairie dogs.  We got everything sorted out and I was apprised of what happened during the biopsy.  It seems that during the procedure, excess air had gotten into the linings of my left lung, causing it to partially collapse; hence, the increased shortness of breath.  So, they packed me up to slip a needle into the lung to remove the excess air.  They then decided to admit me to the hospital for observation, even though I insisted that I’m just not that interesting.

But, I ended up staying at the Moffitt Hilton for two nights, finally being released Thursday afternoon.  At that point, Elaine and I were finally able to talk to Dr. Russell about what the biopsy showed, the original reason for going there on Tuesday.   As we had expected, the new mass is cancerous and had metastasized from the original cancer in my throat.  Since that was its genesis, the cancer is treatable but incurable.  I will begin chemotherapy on Thursday, and will quite likely last the rest of my life.  What Elaine and I did not expect is that the rest of my life is now projected at 18 months.   Now, I fully expect to be one of those overachievers who beats the curve. I want my grandchildren to have the time to get to know and remember me.   People in the know in my support group expect there to be major breakthroughs in cancer cures in the next year of two.  So, if I can kick the can down the road just a little bit, there may be options available to me then that are not available now.  Time will tell and we shall see.

In the meantime, I’m not doing too badly.  There’s really no pain to speak of, just massive mucous blockage in my throat, profound tiredness, and shortness of breath.  I am living on Boost VHC, which isn’t too bad if you doctor it with enough chocolate syrup.  I enjoy company, so if anyone reading this is in the area and has some time, let me know.  My email is papajoe67@gmail.com and my phone is 941-928-2543.

So, that’s the way it is and life truly is beautiful.