This was a good week overall. A bit of trepidation getting mentally ready for the chemo session. Not sure why there is any trepidation. This has become an almost routine event.

Janet had to work this week, and Devin had to go to his piano lesson. I drove to the hospital for the 10:00AM appointment. Registered. Their systems had been down all morning and they were running behind. The front desk personnel were nice enough but not exactly brimming with information. I did not even ask how long the delay would be. They have never given us a straight answer in the past, why bother now?

They have this system where they give you a pager if you want to wander off. I had to go outside to burp my bag. They gave me a pager. It works only within the hospital. It works well as a system. It does allow you to wander a bit. I got to sit in a different more comfortable lounge. The only downside is the incredible volume the pager is set at. There is no way to shut it off, or lower the volume. Once it goes off, the whole world is alerted.

My pager goes off and I report dutifully to the front desk. They tell me to report to station 12. There is usually a nurse who greets you and takes you to the station. Have I become such a regular already that I get to usher myself in? A bit unnerving.

The Chemo Daycare has a large number of stations, some are beds, some recliners a la Lazy-Boy, and then they have these recliners that turn into beds. Almost flat. Just enough of an incline to be comfortable. The latter is the one I usually get. Station 12 happens to be a bed. I always wondered why some people got beds, and others not. They even two beds in private rooms. Who decides who gets what? I am the lucky one I guess, got a bed and a nurse I like, Jessica. I asked her why I was privileged, and whether we should close the curtain and have some fun. She laughed me off.

I overheard three nurses discussing the shortage of beds. Turns out they have a new patient, a first-timer, who should have a bed. I gave up my bed. Really don’t need it. Are you sure, the nurse asks. No really, I am just as comfortable in a recliner. The fuss they made over this very normal gesture. Love my nurses. They gave me a recliner in a lovely spot. I can sleep or watch the goings on of the daycare.

This is the second chemo session that I have slept through. Once the main drugs are attached to me, I put on my music, get a blanket, and start dozing. If the turn the music high enough, you cannot hear anything at all while quietly going deaf. Magic.

Devin got my a sandwich for lunch. I have no idea when he showed up. Suffice to say that I woke up just as my drug regimen ended. Ate my lunch. The drug regimen, as you consists of three drugs. The firs is Avastin which takes about ten minutes to administer. The second takes about 90 minutes to administer. The third takes 46 hours. I get to go home once the bottle is attached. A nurse comes over and detaches me sometime on Saturday morning. She happened to come early today, which allowed me to take a shower and get on with my day. Happy, happy, joy, joy.

Even Chemo is becoming a routine experience. Devin drove me home. He went about his business, I went to bed to rest. Had supper, and was soon back in bed. Had a bit of a restless sleep. My bag kept inflating to dangerous levels. I had to get up and burp the damn thing every hour. Somehow managed to go back to sleep in between. That lasted until about 6 in the morning when the maniacal BooBoo Long Paws decided it was time to play with anything and anyone who was available. Janet got up to get ready for her exercise class, I got up soon after. No point in trying to go back to sleep.

Took a welcome shower. I cannot take a shower while the pins are stuck in me. Basically, from Wednesday to Saturday. You can imagine how anxious I am to have the pins removed early so I can shave and shower. Janet and I went to eh market, and decided to wander along Queen Street to look at furniture. We are desperate for a new couch to replace the one we have that has been decimated by the wonderful Busbee.

Good plans that don’t last long. We went shopping for furniture, and ended up buying clothes for Janet, and a couple of prints for the house. Cheered us up, but no couch. We wandered into a couple of furniture stores, but decided to head home instead. I was starting to lose my energy. It was a very good morning.

My reactions to chemo are a bit confusing, to say the least. I still have my hair, so all baldy jokes are put on hold. It is thinning out every day, but still there. My appetite is amazing, which I am told is due to some steroids that I have been prescribed to handle the nausea that accompanies chemo treatments. And no, I am not bulking up, just always hungry.

I do not have any nausea or other bad effects from the Chemo, except for fatigue. It is continuous and very frustrating. Just the way it is going to be from now on. Not much can be done about it.

That’s it for this week. Thanks for listening.

Yesterday. You read all abot it in the newspapers, saw the press releases. No? Surprisingly badly supported day.

I was at the Chemo Daycare yesterday, and nary a mention of this. Janet tells me the CBC morning show mentioned it o Wednesday, but I saw nothing in the rest of news stories. Follow this link to the WHO website and its abundant amount of cancer news.

The number of people dying from cancer ins increasing even as new control measures are discovered. Also on the horizon are discoveries as to where cancer starts and what causes to become active. We know several things already, as in food, stress, environment, all play major parts in the growth of cancer. What we do not seem to have a grip on is the relationship between all these factors.

Will cutting out red meat, eating organic foods, increasing the intake of vegetables, increasing exercise, reducing stress, reducing the intake of white sugar and white flour, reduce the risks of getting cancer? All signs point to a resounding yes. But in what combination remains to be seen. How do you reduce stress to a level that would thwart the cancer cell? Not eating red meat unless organic and grass fed is reasonably easy. Just don’t eat it. White flour and white sugar is a much harder restriction to enforce. How much fruit is enough, what levels of what? The book AntiCancer provides a guide to what foods are beneficial to stopping different forms of cancer. The trouble is you don’t know if you are going to get cancer or what type of cancer you are going to get. So what to eat? This information is worthwhile once you have cancer, but not as a preventative measure.

The WHO also prescribe getting vaccinated against cancer. This is a new discovery. Cervical cancer is the first major breakthrough. They have just finished giving vaccines to 20 million teenagers in an effort to prevent them from getting cervical cancer. Will it be successful? We will only know in about 40 to 50 years when these tenagers are of an age to get the cancer.

Research is also making inroads in showing that breast cancer might also be caused by a virus. Different that the one for cervical cancer. Not that the viruses cause the cancer, but absence of the virus means no cancer. Does this mean we will be giving 2 vaccines to women? What about all the other forms of cancer afflicting both men and women? A vaccine for each? Will someone come up with a test that will determine which viruses are lurking in your body requiring a regimen of vaccines? They better, or we will see a plethora of vaccines and their requisite side effects flooding the market.

We had our piano fixed the other day. The keys were unresponsive. The piano fixer was blind. He had cancer of the eye at the age of three. Cancer of the eye? Who knew. The age of three would be pre-vaccine. Probably his diet caused it. Seriously, this is the sort of news that throws a wrench in the best of intentions. Yet, the research must go on, and preventative measures put in place.

In my very short experience, I have discovered that cancer is not curable, but controllable, It is a chronic condition that is better prevented than dealt with after the fact. Much of the emphasis of the documents on the WHO site.

Too bad it is not better publicized.

No not from chemo. Side effects from stuff like this blog.

I am not sure what the original motivation was. Communicating with family and friends? Therapy for me? What?

The effects of the blog have been nothing short of amazing.

An acquaintance of Nancy’s wrote at the very beginning thanking me for the blog. Her aunt had cancer and withdrew from everyone for the 5 years it took to get back under control. The blog gave her a glimpse of what her aunt had gone through.

Others have expressed interesting feelings about the effect of the blog on their understanding of what dealing with this chronic condition entails.

A friend of mine, from the Art Therapy sessions put me in touch with a U.S. based site called Cancer Compass. They have articles and newsletters and links, and most importantly, blogs and letters from subscribers (free) dealing with their chronic conditions.

The only issue I have with these sites is that the U.S. treats things a lot differently than we do. People use these sites as sources of information, which is not a bad thing, except when used instead of consulting a Doctor, which costs money in the U.S.. While people are a source of information, we are also a source of misinformation.

I asked my nurses and Doctors after my operation, why I was off pain killers within 7 days of the operation. Questions from everyone seemed to indicate that this was too early. The answer is that we really do not know. Every one is different.

My reaction to chemo is another example. I have few side effects. Fatigue is one and possibly the worst.  Today was chemo day. I showed up at 10, ushered in past 11 and out of there by 2:30. They were short staffed. I was on my own. Janet had to work, Dev had his piano class. The event has become routine. Dev picked me up at the end of my session. Perfect timing. I have taken to sleeping through the session. I listen to music on my iPhone. Not the best, but not an issue since I am asleep through most of it.

The nurses ask you a host of questions before administering the treatment. The only positive answer I give them is the fatigue. No allergies, no vomiting, or anything else on the list. Almost gratifying. I watch others in the room, lying down in beds or sitting in chairs, some looking sad, others obviously debilitated by the experience. And there I am, laughing along with my nurses who could obviously use a break.

All this to say, that I went onto the Compass site and joined their community. I go on once in a while to read the posts. Takes time, which, ironically, I seem to be short of. Not as in time before dying, just time on a daily basis. But that is for another day.

I received an eMail from another subscriber of Cancer Compass. Her husband, who is a bit older than me, is going through what I am going through. Colon cancer that has metastasized onto the liver. She, the wife, is scared, as well she would be. He has just had his operation, and is having the usual reactions.

His wife and I are exchanging eMails. She keeps me up to date with what he is going through, and I offer her my experiences. On one side is the positive effects this is having on her. The other side is that my experience will not be the same as his. It helps give her an idea of what to expect, what directions things will go in, but it may not be definitive.

Did I mention they live in Denver? To which all I can say, is amazing. Here we are communicating across a continent. A bit humbling.

How many are affected by our actions, whether intended or not? I am affected by the eMails I send her. They are proving interestingly therapeutic. Going over my experiences and verbalising them again. She has access to the blog, but finds it easier to write eMails.

Yet we go through our lives impervious to the effects our actions have on others.

Any thoughts?

I am late, so very late in keeping this blog up to date. I will make this post an update of two weeks.

You have all read the Euphoria piece in which the cancer cells appear to be retreating before the shock and awe that is chemo. The spell of the good news kept me going for quite a while. The day of reckoning came when we met the oncologist, Dr. Hedley.

Ever the realist, the good doctor is not overwhelmed by the news. He tempered our expectations. One CT-Scan does not a trend make. Don’t get over excited. He was expecting positive results, maybe not as positive as the ones we got, but this is not a time for partying. This is Euphoria-reigned in.

Dr. Hedley believes that the chemo will run its course shrinking the tumours. There will come a time, however, when the tumours stop responding. We will take a break from chemo at that point and monitor the tumours on an on-going basis. Chemo will resume when the tumours decide to grow again. This will go on, basically, for the rest of my life, as long as it may be. We asked about a liver operation. The good doctor felt that the operation is unwarranted since it would be quite harsh and hard on me.

This begs the question of the severity of the operation. I just went through an 8 hour operation, and he thinks the liver operation will be severe? How bad is this operation?

It took a while for reality to set in. As things go, this is not so bad. My reaction to chemo treatments has been a bit bizarre to say the least. I have had a few side effects, a lowered white blood cell count, fatigue, and the discoloration of the skin on my hands making it look as if I need to wash them, and nose bleeds due to low platelet counts. . The white blood cell count is reversed by Neulasta. Fatigue by sleep. The discoloration by gloves. No, not really, I am not wearing gloves to cover them. They are what they are.

If this is the worst chemo can do to me, I am willing to take the chemo treatments whenever required. Chemo taken in short bursts will negate the requirement for Neulasta. That is a plus. I told them to put a zipper in when going into the first surgery. No idea why they did not listen to me.

The rest of the week went very well.  I am showing few signs of being on chemo. My appetite is fine, thank you very much. If things keep going this way, I may have to go on a diet. I still have a lot of my hair, though admittedly thinned out. Turns out I have SO MUCH hair that losing a bit of it puts me on a par with a lot of other people.  No sense going for a hair cut since it is not growing. I have to shave every two to three days instead of every day. What a relief that is. Seriously.

Fetneh came to visit. Always a pleasure. We talked, we laughed, we shopped. Tool her a high end furniture store, just for fun. No shopping trip would be complete without some fashion adventures. Off we went to Yorkdale mall. The precedent has been set. We will have to take her to a new Toronto experience every time she comes here.

Some of my days have been extremely productive. Others have been less so. The fatigue is sometimes overwhelming. I am a bit confused by all this and attempting to reason things out. I might be overdoing things when I am feeling strong and mighty and paying the price the next day. Not sure. I spent Saturday almost entirely sleeping. Friday, on the other hand was a very good day. The answers will come in due course.

I am now preparing myself for chemo week. If all goes according to plan, I should sleep through this session. Next CT-Scan is on March 8 when we will have a better idea of what is going on.

Thank you for being there, visiting, writing, commenting, praying.

Harbour.jpg

Location: Dana Point, California, 2006

We headed to San Diego for a family reunion. The family on my mothers side. My cousin Ruja lives there. We flew to San Francisco, rented a car, and drove south on the old Highway 1. We planned the trip meticulously. We planned on driving maybe three hours a day, and spend the rest site seeing. beaching, resting and so on. We also drove ridiculously slowly, stopping often to let others pass. We were in no hurry. It was a superb trip, highly recommended.

The second last leg of the trip took us past Los Angeles. We had no choice but to drive 7 hours, mostly on the main highway, attempting to bypass as much of LA as possible. We finally ended up at our destination, Dana Point.

The hotel we had booked sat high on a hill overlooking the bay. We were tired, looking forward to dinner and a bit of rest. I took some pictures overlooking the bay, the light was disappearing, not a good time for pictures. I finally decided to call it quits and started reading a book, my camera resting on the stone wall designed to prevent us from catapulting into the abyss.

These two ladies were talking a mile a minute on the balcony above me. It was really irritating. They had these high nasal voices designed to grate on your nerves, sending you to the closest Asylum for the Insane. I tried to ignore them. It was very hard. They went on and on about nothing in particular. Through the fog of attempting to ignore the conversation, I heard one of them say Oh my God, look at that. Someone should take a picture.

I looked up.

She was right.

I did take a picture.

A note about the format. This picture was taken on film using a very old Mamiya C330 Professional Dual Lens camera. The Professional moniker is a marketing thing. This camera manufactured between 1969 and 1974. It is, what we call, a medium format camera. It takes square pictures. The pictures are printed on 6cm x 6cm paper. The resolution is extremely high. The digital versions of these cameras come in at 33 or 56 megapixels. The camera is still in good condition.

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Went to see Dr. Kennedy today. She was delighted to be the first to give the results of the CT-Scan as well as CEA blood test numbers. The CT-Scan results are outlined below. As you can see, a huge drop in the size of the tumours. Janet and I were both a bit overwhelmed by [...]

This turned out to be a very hard week. I will have to write about it a bit later when all my thoughts have been worked out. Sorry, but I have to think things out. The emotional affects the physical and vice-versa. The first part of the week was hard emotionally. The rest was hard [...]

The days are a blur. Christmas was barely noticed, as is the Hew Year. Cannot stay up to celebrate the coming of the new year. I guess I will have to celebrate when I wake up in the morning. This is a chemo week. My oncologist’s New Year present. Went in for blood work on [...]

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