This past weekend, Jane and I took some much needed time away from work and cancer and our normal routines and headed to Pacific Grove for four days. Jessie, Luke and Violet joined us for part of the time, time we spent walking, watching a parade -- it was Good Old Days weekend in PG -- eating good food, taking in a high school mountain bike race, and just generally enjoying each other and every warm and sunny day. I spent one morning with Luke paddling the glassy, crystal clear and cold water of Monterey bay, getting close-up looks at otters, several with new pups, seals and sea lions, an assortment of sea birds and other denizens of the offshore kelp forest. We paddled "sit-on-top" boats on a day so warm there was no need for wet suits. However, that did mean sitting in a puddle of that cool bay water with nothing but a thin layer of nylon between it and me for two and a half hours. You might ask, is this the connection with the title? Sorry Seinfeld fans, but the title's reference is to something more significant.
During our time away, I was able to put thoughts of cancer on a shelf and really just enjoy what each and every day brought. It's not that I haven't been able to do that at times before, but there have always been daily reminders of the cancer growing within me. It helped this time that I have been feeling as good physically this past week or so as I have in six months. I have had little cancer pain, the viral infection that dogged me for three weeks had finally faded away, and the side-effects of chemo were only a shadow of what they have been during treatments. Arriving home Monday night, while nice in so many ways, did require that I face the reality of my cancer again. Chemo treatments, cycle five, would begin again Wednesday, and with them the side effects that I've learned to live with every three weeks out of four. In addition,Tuesday morning I was scheduled for a CT scan, and while my body had been telling me that there had been changes for the good, the anxiety about what the scan would show was inescapable; it would have to sit there in the background until I saw my doctor on Wednesday and learned the results. This is where the title comes in. The scan showed what my body has been telling me. The tumors in my liver have decreased in size by about 20%. The tumor in my pancreas appears unchanged from my last scan when there was evidence of necrosis. The bottom line is that it is not growing. In addition, my CA 19-9 levels continue their downward trend with a new low of 40 units (I started at 117 before treatment), indicating reduced tumor activity. My blood work and other tests are all OK, showing normal liver and kidney function and blood counts. All of this is good news! It does make it easier to move forward and update goals; it replenishes the reservoir of hope that can get drawn down fairly well at times. It also makes it easier to deal with the side effects of the chemotherapy since it and the prayers and support of so many are clearly working.
Good things, then, have happened and battles won in my fight against cancer, but the enemy is still there, potent and unpredictable. While chemotherapy is a primary weapon against my tumors, I don't discount the significance of the prayers and positive support I've received from so many people in my life. Please keep them coming; I do believe they are part and parcel of my healing. Finally, a number of you have asked how long chemotherapy will last. The best answer is that it will continue as long as it shows positive results. Assuming (and hoping) that it does, I should be able to take a temporary break from it at some point 6 months or so down the road. But, I've learned not to make assumptions about anything related to this disease. It is important for me to celebrate victories, to maintain a positive attitude, but also to continue to take things one step at a time. I'm reminded of that each time I stop in at the California Cancer Center in Greenbrae for acupuncture. On the staircase landing there is a ladder made out of driftwood that says just that, one word per rung. So, I do just that, trying always to find something to enjoy and give thanks for each and every additional day I have been given on this planet -- and, you know, it's relatively easy to do, even on the darkest of days.
Peace,
Don
