2.21.14

A little self-indulgent, or self-centered, or self something this afternoon, but...


One thing that has been challenging for me since all of this began was/is figuring out how, or even if, to, how to put it, get closer to or allow people to get closer to me. It probably sounds contradictory given the nature of this blog but, as anyone who knows me reasonably well knows, I've never been the most out-going of people. I'm comfortable with people that I've known well for a long time but befriending, meeting, getting to know people I maybe didn't/don't know as well, or making new acquaintances, well, that's always been a bit difficult for me (especially sober!) Distant, reserved probably best describe. While in some ways the last few years, given what I know re. my health, has made me somewhat more outgoing- friendlier even?!- than I probably was pre-diagnosis, that knowledge can also prove limiting. How much, how many people, do I want to get close to, or more importantly, allow to get close to me, given that my long-term is far more short-term than I ever anticipated just a few years ago?  So many people have been so good, so supportive, so kind... I don't want to hurt or disappoint them by my not- likely- being around all that long; that's not fair to them. Perhaps it sounds arrogant but I'd like people to think reasonably well of me after I'm gone and much of that, to my mindset, is not hurting or disappointing people, nor being a burden or bother to anyone. It's less about me than it is about others; I do endeavor to do my best on that score. I guess it's destined to be a balancing act, one I probably won't adequately resolve but will try to err on the side of putting others first. Just thinking out loud I guess... (or maybe it's the weather!)


None of this is to mean my demise is imminent. I still feel great, we still have a few tricks left in the hat to try and continue to keep this manageable- no need to start that pool yet! But part of what Jim Floyd suggested way back when I first started this blog was:
Use some of your time to write down what you’re going through...the reactions you’re getting from others...the plans you must make/change...the way you see/perceive things through this particular looking glass.

If nothing else, it will prove an exercise that gives you focus and perspective.

If anyone gets anything out of this blog beyond a far-too revealing into my warped mindset, it will have been meaningful.

2.12.14

Well, it looks like I get to be a human guinea pig! This morning I received the results from a CT scan I had last week. The good news: still no new growths nor spread to any other organs beyond the liver. The not-as-good news: the existing tumors have grown in size, not quite as much as I had anticipated but enough that, coupled with some blood lab #s over the past month+, indicate that the treatment regimen I had been on since last summer has reached the end of it's efficacy. My oncologist and I discussed a few options this morning; one was proceeding to regorafenib, which is pretty much the last-line standard treatment for colon cancer, the other was participation in a phase 1 clinical research trial for a drug under development, the purposes of which are, obviously, to determine if it has much/any efficacy in keeping the cancer at bay, as well as to determine how people react (side effects, etc...) to it, what possible effects it may have, positive or adverse, upon patients. In short, they are seeking to discover more about the effect of the trial drug upon the disease well as the patient, how it is metabolized throughout the body, those sorts of things. Phase 1 trials are the starting point in developing potentially beneficial treatments, the first phase in which they are tested upon human subjects. My oncologist believes that this is the best possible option right now, as we can still keep regorafenib in the bullpen down the road. I have some things to review re. the trial before giving my consent, and then they conduct a preliminary health screening to make sure there is nothing to disqualify me as a participant, but I'm inclined to do it. If nothing else, it helps advance research, data, and knowledge in the field, it provides me with some small way in which to try and give back and perhaps do something beneficial for others who may be afflicted with colon cancer in the future, plus there is the possibility that it could have benefits in keeping my cancer at bay for awhile longer yet.


Even after all of this time it is still difficult for me to truly comprehend that I have as serious a condition as I do. Obviously I see and am aware of the scan results, the lab #s, certainly going to receive treatment every other week was/is a reminder, but... I still feel so damn well! I have no pain, no nausea or anything, no fatigue to speak of, I workout twice a day (run in the early morning, lift/cardio later in the day) I'm able to do all of the day-to-day things that I've always done. My weight is down a bit (I'm the lightest I've been since 8th grade!) but food still appeals, and some of that weight loss may be due to my activity level. And it still frustrates the living hell out of me that there is nothing I can do- me, pro-actively, of/through my own effort- to beat this thing back and recover from it, defeat it. I've made the comparison before; if it were an injury, yeah, a surgeon could repair the initial damage but then I could work to rehab, strengthen, and heal it as well. If it were like heart disease or diabetes, yeah, a surgeon could perform a procedure if necessary, a doctor might prescribe meds to help with it, but I could also take pro-active steps- change of diet, exercise, relaxation techniques, whatever- to also positively impact and aid in recovery. But this... I can't exercise my liver to reduce or eliminate the tumors, diet has no effect upon it (I eat pretty damn cleanly as is, even drink very moderately!) I can try to keep the rest of my body as healthy and fit as possible but that doesn't defeat the cancer. Again, even after all of this time now, it is still very difficult for me to accept that I cannot control what happens with/within my own body.
I probably never will.