Tuesday afternoon I went for my normal CT Scan and MRI. While driving home my oncologist called to say he had already heard from the radiologist.

The Normal Scans

Tuesday morning there was a mild “weather event” going on in our area. We had snow, rain, and ice. The winter trifecta of all things you want to avoid. My study has a woodstove and I had that thing cranking out some serious heat. When it was time to leave I was not overly excited about the whole process.

Walking into the facility where I get my scans I was reminded that this was as much a social call as it was a trip to the doctors. I was greeted by familiar faces, we got caught up on life and all the things that had changed since the last time I had visited.

During these visits, I am repeatedly asked, “How do you feel?” It feels like an odd question. How I feel is truly irrelevant. What matters is what they see through the scans. I can feel great and at the same time have something very bad going on inside my body. Over the past few years I have learned to not waste energy answering the question. I simply say, “That is what I am here to find out.” [Read more…]

Last week I had scans done of my chest and abdomen. Monday I had bloodwork drawn. Friday I will hear the results from all those tests.

It is my normal, every three to four-month tests that we run to see if my cancer is behaving or starting to grow again.

Last August Nicole, my PA, shared the results of my latest scans and told me to, “go get a beer.” It was her way of saying everything looked good. Nicole was happy with what she saw, or did not see, and she wanted me to relax and enjoy life.

I have resisted calling the office early and asking for Nicole. Part of me wants to know what the results are. Another piece of me is totally fine not knowing for a few more days.

The Roller Coaster

I cannot explain the feelings and emotions that move within my body and soul as I wait to hear how I am doing. When I went to get my blood drawn on Monday all the nurses were asking, “Dan, how are you doing?” I just laughed and said, “That is why I am here, so you can tell me how I am doing.”

The further I get from my last treatment the better I feel physically. The more energy I have and the clearer my mind thinks. There is much to celebrate. At the same time, there is this haunting idea that while all appears to be good my cancer is slowly growing inside me. I have no reason to think that way, it is just something I wonder about from time to time.

You would think that after two-plus years of this journey I would have grown used to this rollercoaster. That is far from the truth. While I struggle to remember how I moved pre-cancer this new reality has become very familiar. [Read more…]

Mushroom Festival Parade Fun

This past week I was talking with a fellow cancer patient and we spoke of how the journey often seems harder for those traveling with the patient.

THE WORLD SPINS

At first glance that may seem unreasonable or even a little insensitive. Stick with me for a few minutes, understand that I write as someone who has battled cancer the past two years.

When the doctor speaks those words, “you have cancer” everyone’s world starts to spin. The patient is immediately forced to deal with issues of mortality and grief. Grief over the life experiences cancer may rob them of. Both patient and caregiver are forced into learning a new language as they seek to develop and follow a treatment plan.

Caregivers and loved ones begin to deal with grief, loss, and develop a plan of attack to “cure” this illness that is attacking their loved one. Caregivers lives are thrown in turmoil. Suddenly they are taking care of household chores and someone who until recently was taking care of themselves and contributing to the well-being of the family.

NEWFOUND CLARITY

Over time the patient is “given room” to process the issues they are dealing with. There is a moment when most come to grips with their mortality. In that moment a new set of priorities become clear. What was once important may fade into the background as they want to invest the remainder of their lives into what is “truly important.” Cancer may ultimately win, but it will not rob them of investing what life remains into what is of the highest value. [Read more…]

“Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher, “Vanity of vanities!  All is vanity.” … “That which has been is that which will be, And that which has been done is that which will be done.  So, there is nothing new under the sun.”

So begins the book of Ecclesiastes.

Treatment 12

Monday morning I will have my twelfth (12) chemo treatment this round.  This is a huge thing.  The goal when we start my aggressive chemo treatments is that my body will be able to endure twelve treatments.  I am excited to reach this marker.  When I had my first treatment this round back in February 2018 it was hard to imagine reaching twelve treatments.

The truth is I have been here before.  My first twelfth treatment was on October 24, 2016.  “That which has been is that which will be, And that which has been done is that which will be done.  So, there is nothing new under the sun.”

Ponderings

I have some thoughts this Sunday evening as I ponder that which has been and that which will be.

God has been gracious and my body has handled this round of chemo much easier.  I am not sure why.  Sure, I have been weary and have needed naps on a regular basis…but I have also been able to do much more than I ever did back in 2016.

For the past few days Nancy and I have been spreading mulch on our back hill.  I unloaded and spread about two yards of mushroom dirt the other day.  Back in 2016 at this point in my treatment I needed a walking stick to move around.  I have given up trying to understand what is different…I am simply thankful. [Read more…]