Of snot-nosed babies and chemo

Last Friday, I broke a rule that I've been otherwise good about following since beginning chemotherapy -- stay away from sick people. Violet, and her mom and dad of course, visited in the afternoon and stayed for dinner. She has always been good therapy for me, and the two of us have something of a routine going. When she sees me, she crawls to my legs, pulls herself up to a standing position, turns her back to me and reaches up with one of her tiny hands. My Pavlovian response is to provide a finger for that little hand to grip, and off we go, walking wherever she wants. If it's outside, it could be anywhere. At our house, she loves going down then back up our carpeted stairs or running on tippy-toes through a long hallway. Even though she arrived coughing, drooling and blowing those snot-bubbles from her nose that only little ones can do, I violated my "sick person" rule -- what's an Oompah (my granddad moniker) to do? We played for several hours, and there was no way to avoid some of the viscous fluids she was producing. So it should have been no surprise when, a couple of days later, I started to show similar symptoms, minus the snot-bubbles of course. I thought I had it pretty much under control by yesterday, though, when I began the fourth cycle of chemotherapy. Unfortunately, as the chemo treatment went along -- a long day yesterday with both drugs following an anti-nausea med -- I got stuffier and stuffier; one of the side effects I've noticed since the very beginning is that I produce more mucus and saliva. Add that to the cold symptoms and it made a long day in the chair seem even longer. So, lesson learned -- no more sick people!! Either that, or I find a safer way to contact them -- for some reason an image of Frank Drebin (Leslie Nielson) in "The Naked Gun" just popped into my brain; I'll say no more.

Even though I'm feeling pretty "punky" today as my Mom might have said, the time spent in chemotherapy continues to turn dividends. Prior to my infusion, I met with my doctor, Margaret Tempero, for my monthly evaluation. All of my blood work has been positive. My liver enzymes and other measures are those of an otherwise healthy 61-year old; my CA-19-9 levels continue to remain low with the most recent dropping to 47 (from 117 before therapy began). Reduced levels of that protein indicate reduced tumor activity. She also felt that the pain in my side that has worried me for the past few weeks is not "cancer pain." She examined my abdomen, and found things to be normal; I had no pain when she palpated my liver and other abdominal organs. Her take on my last CT scan was that the changes in my liver tumors were trivial. Her conclusion is that I am progressing well with the treatment.

So, the news is encouraging and has helped me put aside some of the doubt that has been too much of a focus the past few weeks. I know I'm not even close to being out of the woods, but knowing that a path exists that will keep me moving in a positive direction keeps me hopeful. Plus, it's the first day of Spring, and Easter is just around the corner. How can I be filled with anything other than hope? My thanks again to all who continue to pray for and provide support to me and my family as we make this journey we'd just as soon avoid. Have a good holiday and best wishes to one and all.

Peace,

Don