Month: July 2016

Thursday, July 28

Upon first being diagnosed, a friend, who is quite familiar with the western medical establishment, told me that one does NOT want to be an interesting medical case. She explain how the doctors embraced the challenge and greeted the excitement, but the long and short of it is that interested translated into not easily cured.

I have since realized that the flip side of being an interesting medical case is that there are the makings an intriguing, dynamic literary story.  Writing this story quickly became my hobby!

On this morning’s walk I vexingly wondered if I still were an interesting medical case. After all I am coming to the end of what seems to be a fairly successful first phase of treatment – PSA down, blood work good, positive comments from both eastern and western treatment teams and no major side effects. Further, I am at a loss to interestingly continue my story.

So there you have it – perhaps a transition from medically interesting to standard care. With that transition the possible ending of an exciting, unfolding, dynamic cancer story to everyday life with manageable cancer that simply slows me down. WOW – exciting for me!!! Reader be warned!

I excitingly anticipate my final chemotherapy infusion in just five days. I  also await the preliminary conversation with doctors on how the next phase of my treatment will unfold. The big question remains: “Will I still be an oddity and stand out – that aberrant, interesting medical case?”

 

Sunday, July 24

Make no mistake about the fact that I certainly do recognize that my stage 4 cancer is a very serious diagnosis. I definitely do not want to diminish this reality.

Nonetheless, as Laurie and I cruised through the delightfully shaded part of our 22-mile bicycle ride yesterday, I jovially wondered if I had the (almost) perfect patient’s dream. I viewed my situation through this lens:

 

I have experience practically NO pain whatsoever. I have NOT had any major disruptions in either eating or sleeping. I am still able to move my body through exercise. Without a job, I have the time to dedicate myself fully to the fight. I have reasonable health insurance and adequate financial resources. I have full confidence in both my western and eastern healing teams. Additionally, both teams keep hinting towards positive results from their treatments. I have a tremendously supportive community of family and friends that just keep pouring a joyous, healing energy my way. Moreover, I feel like can call upon each and every one of you in a time of true need and you will respond immediately. Finally, I just KNOW I will come out the other end of this with a new, more appreciative lease on life. All my relationships will be deeper and more rewarding.

Presently I feel as if my (almost) perfect patient’s dream is akin to my favorite cycling situation. I am just cruising: creek-grade down, in the shade of gigantic, majestic, old growth trees, with a slight tailwind.

(Casi) la Pura Vida!

Wednesday, July 20

Admittedly, I’ve been procrastinating this post, so as not to tempt Murphy. I wanted to wait sufficiently long to verify that I have indeed avoided the post chemo crash.

Laurie and I returned last night from a marvelously relaxing long weekend in Manzanita. This morning, I went grocery shopping and did NOT experience that dreaded melt down – the true test! Presently, I’m feeling GREAT and am psyched for the next two weeks. Avoided!

For all of those out there in Mike’s blog land wanting to know how the crash was avoided, I offer the same reply I do whenever my brother Rich asks about the whys of cancer treatment. Namely, “I simply don’t know”. There are so many variables, so many super powerful drugs and so much pooled positive energy coming my way, that I simply ignore the why and revel in the joy of the circumstance.

That said, Laurie has her opinion. She says that I had successfully yielded. I had embraced minimal physical exertion over the first five days after the chemo treatment. Additionally she suggests the more prudent use of an optional post chemo medication worked wonders.

So there we have it……………Running strong Post chemo #5.

Dare I say, “Take that weak stuff home – Bring on #6?”

Saturday, July 16

It has been 95 hours since the end of Chemo #5. Presently, I am relaxing on the couch after our six-person (and one dog) Manzanita morning beach walk – flat, slow, serene and friendly. I also find myself feeling significantly better than I would have expected. After all I’ve already experienced four prior chemotherapy treatments and you’ve read the stories of anxiety, fatigue and fog!

The word that comes to mind is: Allora. I learned this word when studying Italian a few years back. I know it as a word that does not really translate directly; it seems to be a word that just takes up space – a pause word, a waiting word. Think about well in English. I focus on this word because it feels like I am in a waiting phase. I happily motivate around with friends in this gorgeous ocean setting waiting to see how my body will fully react to chemo #5. Is the anxiety coming? Will I be able to think straight? Will I be dragged down with that vicious physical fatigue?

So for now, Allora. Let’s wait and see!

Monday, July 11

I must admit that I am not excited about tomorrow’s appointment. Perhaps,it is because:

• Physical fatigue has been the hallmark of my last few weeks and I can only expect more after tomorrow’s treatment.
• My continued weight gain, loss of strength and diminishing conditioning is extremely disheartening.
• Experience predicts ugly emotional swings & a humiliating cognitive fog.

However, I am thrilled as I anticipate:

• Another merciless bombardment of those uninvited cancer cells.
• A long weekend of beach time with two of the Goelz families.
• Two happy visits with Carter.
• The prospect of perhaps only one more treatment.

Friday, July 8:

The succinct title of this post sums up my last few days.

The morning walks, when they happen, are definitely ¾ speeds. My favorite walk this week was the forest hike with Laurie, Katie, Julia and Kousa. Julia happily kept me company as we took up the rear. It was so enjoyable to share in her excitement as she spoke of her rapidly approaching freshman year at the University of Alabama.

Especially slow have been the warm, Willamette Valley summer afternoons. I still wake up excited and energized but by lunchtime I am quite lethargic. It is just hard to motivate – so much so, that I actually turned down two outdoor climbing invitations. It feels like I am dragging around that 20-pound weight once again.

Also, on this note, I did get a little worried Wednesday afternoon. I had committed to grocery shop. As I mounted my bike and pushed out into the sun my thoughts jumped back to that ill-fated previous Monday. Happily all worked out just fine and now that dreadful day is a mere memory.

About the only part of life that has not slowed down is the social life. Although a little taxing, it is FUN! I thoroughly enjoyed the July 3rd picnic on the river with Lynn, the welcoming BBQ for Julia (young cyclists included), the afternoon visit with our New Zealand friends, TJ and Rusty, the visit with cousin Jamie and cherry picking again with Julia. Of course, the spontaneous joys of hanging with my 5 ¼ year old buddy, Hayden, continues to be a social highlight!

For those who have lost track, I continue to plod through my first phase of treatment.  There are only two remaining chemotherapy appointments (7/12 and 8/2).  On August 29th – a Bone and CT scan. These will show how the tumors have reacted to all the phase one treatments (chemotherapy, androgen deprivation, diet, acupuncture etc.).  The next day we meet with our oncologist, Dr. Beers, to make a phase two plan.

In the meantime, I am eternally grateful all your continued support and well wishes. As I said above: Slow but Good – as it well should be!

 Sunday, July 3:

The support I’ve received through comments, emails, texts and calls from my last post has been heartwarming and prodigious. How did I amass such an awesome group of friends?

You will be happy to know that despite my general obstinance I think I’ve leaned something from last Monday’s experience. Further, this knowledge should lead to a behavior change. My take home lesson is: I do need to slow down, shift gears, listen more carefully to the body! I need to embrace my concept of recalibration and move more slowly and deliberately from bolt to bolt. Finally, I am ready to admit that there very well might be an accumulative effect to chemotherapy.

How might this lesson be implemented? I commit to only one workout a day – and it shall be at ¾ intensity. I commit to a longer afternoon lounge chair reading session- perhaps even a spell of watching the garden greens grow. Finally, I commit to a renewed effort to keep things simple and not over extend myself socially.  The New Normal is upon me!

        The stump can wait!

A huge shout out of appreciation to Alan for yesterday’s outing. It truly was awesome hanging out with my primary climbing partner of the last 25 years. We went for a casual outing to Flagstone. We hiked slowly, attempted only a few of the highest quality climbs, lunched in the shade, talked about life and traded stories. The weather was gorgeous: warm sunshine; wispy wind rustling the tops of Douglas fir trees and a panoramic scenery extending for miles. So wonderful to get out of the valley and play in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains!