Big Eddy and the Bailers

This past week, I finished cycle nine of chemotherapy, the first after going to an every-other-week regimen of treatment. While more time will tell, the elimination of the third treatment seems to be working to alleviate the accumulating side effects of the gemcitabine. I've had minimal swelling in arms and legs, and the "heaviness" and tendonitis I've felt in my arms and lower legs seems to have abated somewhat. I've also added another anti-hypertensive drug to my pharmacopia, and I'm not experiencing the spikes in blood pressure that had become all too regular the past few weeks. It was getting a bit disconcerting seeing 175/105 as a BP to start the day; I could also feel the effects as a low grade headache, a pulsing tinitis and pressure in my neck and at the back of my head. Those symptoms have been reduced along with the normalization of my blood pressure -- normal for me anyway. The fatigue and other typical effects of a day at the infusion center continue, but the extra recovery week each cycle means that I've more or less recovered by the time I get zapped again. The key to continuing to treat this cancer as a chronic disease is my ability to tolerate the toxic effects of the chemo drugs. My blood work continues to show normal liver and kidney function, good signs. I'll know whether or not the reduced chemo schedule is still keeping the cancer cells at bay in early October when I get my next CT scan. Until then, I'll continue to make the most of each and every day.

Putting an exclamation point on my resolve to do just that was the news this past week that Gene Upshaw, ex-Raider and NFL players union president, had died of pancreatic cancer just four days after learning that it was the cause of his illness. At the time of my diagnosis, I had thought four months was way too short a time to continue to live, but four days? The news caused the inevitable reflection and introspection on my part, with some of the focus on death and dying, the uncertain nature of the future and the doubt it can bring, but more importantly, it reminded me to make each and every day matter in some way no matter how seemingly small or inconsequential. It's not always an easy thing to do, and too often I'm reminded of my human frailties. But, life goes on. I'm off for a bout a week to the great north -- Alaska -- to visit with my brother and his family and get in a little exploring in and around McCarthy and the old Kennicott copper mining country. It's an area dominated by the glaciers of the Alaska Range and the major river they feed, the mighty Copper, a river whose washwater gray and silty waters carve through a canyon of their making. This is where the title was going to connect -- rivers as metaphors for life with their one-way flow, swirling eddy currents, calm stretches and roaring whitewater, the need to bail your boat of water you take on while running them . . . I think you get the picture, and I'll let you fill in the numerous gaps I've left . . . a participatory blog!!

Take care one and all. As always, thank-you for your continued support and prayers.

Peace,

Don

Oh, if you'd like to help in the fight against pancreatic cancer, my sister-in-law, Margaret, is running a half marathon in November to raise funds for Pancreatica. You can find out more at www.active/com/donate/pancreaticabigsur08/Margaret55