War and battle metaphors seem all too appropriate for the given situation, but I I can't think of a better way to express how I feel today. Yesterday, December 27, I had my first chemo treatment. I was able to start sooner than later because of the cooperation between Dr. Tempero at UCSF and Dr. Eisenberg at the California Cancer Center. Since UC's infusion center was all booked up, I was able to receive my first treatment here in Marin. So the fight is on and, hopefully, the cancer cells are finding that life isn't so easy for them any longer. So far, I'm doing pretty well in terms of the side effects. A bit more tired than usual, but so far so good. This was the first of three weekly treatments, then a week off, then another cycle. In between the chemo treatments, there will be plenty of blood draws, periodic CT scans. It's all somewhat surreal in a sense, all too real in others, especially for one who has never really been sick before. Emotionally, knowing that the battle has been joined has been a big lift. While there is still uncertainty, the wait is over; the plan is in place and underway, and I'm feeling good about that. I know how important a positive approach is in taking on such an adversary, even though it's sometimes hard to find that positve groove.
The chemo followed by a day the collection of some tumor tissue samples at UC that are required for the study I'm in. Not a totally pleasant procedure since I had to be semi-alert during the process, but they were able to get to some fairly accessible tumors in my liver and get core samples from them. The good news was that getting the samples was a challenge for the radiologist due to their small size.
The biopsy day followed a good Christmas with family at our house -- all my brothers and sisters, most of their children, our Matt and Jessica, and the star of the show, our grand-daughter Violet, were all in fine form. There was more than enough food and laughter for a week's worth of celebrating.
My thanks again to all my friends, family, colleagues, running buddies, doctors, and God for the support; you cannot know how much the cards, emails, walks, positive vibes and prayers are helping me in this fight for my life. God bless and peace.
Don
Friday, December 28, 2007
Saturday, December 15, 2007
The news
Monday, December 10, my life changed. After two months of looking for a source of chronic abdominal pain I had been experiencing, including endoscopy, ultrasound scans and CT scans, a second CT scan showed significant changes from the first. I had a mass in my pancreas and several lesions in my liver. The preliminary diagnosis was one I had hoped never to hear -- pancreatic cancer. It was confirmed the next day when biopsies of several of the tumors in my liver showed cancer cells. The CT-guided biopsies also included images of clots in a pulmonary artery, so I was admitted to the hospital overnight. On Wednesday, I met my oncologist, Peter Eisenberg, and was given some hope that this was a disease that could be managed to a degree with chemotherapy. He also suggested seeing another oncologist at UCSF, a specialist in the field of pancreatic cancer.
Friday, December 14, my wife, Jane, and I met with Dr. Margaret Tempero and came away with a more positive feeling that this could be something that could be managed, not cured, but managed so that I could extend my life past the few months I would have left otherwise. So, a plan is in process. I will be part of a clinical trial at UCSF. The day after Christmas, I will have some biopsies done to collect tumor tissue, and hopefully my first chemotherapy session Friday, December 28. If not then, chemo will definitely begin on January 4. I am anxious to get things started. More than anything, the uncertainty is a constant nag.
My emotions continue to rise and fall, not unlike the tides. It is difficult to keep the dark thoughts at bay, even though I know how important my attitude is in this battle for my life. I'm doing my best to take each day as it comes, to take this one step at a time. I know I'm in good hands with my doctors on both sides of the Golden Gate; each visit with one of them buoys my spirits. I've also enjoyed the normalcy visits with friends and family, walks, lunches, phone conversations have brought. Along with tears there has been a good amount of laughter and no shortage of love and support. For all of that, a big thank-you. And keep the prayers, good thoughts and positive vibes coming. I'm going to need all of the help I can get as I proceed on this journey.
Peace,
Don
Friday, December 14, my wife, Jane, and I met with Dr. Margaret Tempero and came away with a more positive feeling that this could be something that could be managed, not cured, but managed so that I could extend my life past the few months I would have left otherwise. So, a plan is in process. I will be part of a clinical trial at UCSF. The day after Christmas, I will have some biopsies done to collect tumor tissue, and hopefully my first chemotherapy session Friday, December 28. If not then, chemo will definitely begin on January 4. I am anxious to get things started. More than anything, the uncertainty is a constant nag.
My emotions continue to rise and fall, not unlike the tides. It is difficult to keep the dark thoughts at bay, even though I know how important my attitude is in this battle for my life. I'm doing my best to take each day as it comes, to take this one step at a time. I know I'm in good hands with my doctors on both sides of the Golden Gate; each visit with one of them buoys my spirits. I've also enjoyed the normalcy visits with friends and family, walks, lunches, phone conversations have brought. Along with tears there has been a good amount of laughter and no shortage of love and support. For all of that, a big thank-you. And keep the prayers, good thoughts and positive vibes coming. I'm going to need all of the help I can get as I proceed on this journey.
Peace,
Don
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