Cancer Man IV

Jeez. I know it's been a while, but a lot of shit has transpired since the last time I actually wrote in this diary and, honestly, haven't felt the need to share. But I'm listening to the Xanadu soundtrack right now and I got all toasty inside.

Join me?

The last time I wrote anything regarding my health situation was June 2018, and things were pretty much stable. Continuing my ongoing pill-popping routine of Xalkori & Keppra. Things were swell as swell as they can be with swollen ankles, blurry vision and fatigue. But amazingly, I was successful in establishing a routine while under this particular targeted treatment. Easily fitting back into the normal life of a typical American male pursuing the American dream: a job, a home, a 401K, a life... It was sweet to stress again about normal things.

Regaining my focus and dusting off some old life goals with the expectation that I may fucking be able to beat this thing. But, as with all people with a plan, God laughs.

About nine months into Xalkori I got another scan and brain MRI. Our old friend in the brain showed continued improvement though there was a small speck in another side that warranted further investigation. In addition, the CT scan of my chest demonstrated a familiar stain that has appeared before. I figured what was coming and just told my Oncologist to schedule the PET scan. It’s a standard thing for me to receive radioactive material every quarter just to check my innards. 

Thank goodness that my in$$$urance pays for these damned things as they are not a standardized method of cancer detection. Let alone outside of the U$ where PET $$$cans are not given, even in areas where “socialized” healthcare is available including Canada (at least that’s what one Kanuck with cancer told me).

Yet, these $$$cans are the ones that have been most successful in detecting my tumor activity with immediate results. However, it does take technicians a couple of days to read the images, which now leads us too:

November 5th, 2018:
Onc: “Your PET scan results show potential mild metabolic activity”
Me: “Is the cancer back?”
Onc: “not too sure since the scan tech also said to not rule out infection in your lung”
Me: “well, what about the spec in my brain”
Onc: “nothing to worry about now, we can wait to see if it progresses and then we can treat”.
Me: “wait til it progresses...? You mean grow!?
Onc: “Yes. Or we can give you brain radiation again, but just that spot.”
Me: “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccckkkkkkkkk”

Onc: “You’ll probably have to stop taking your current medication. But there are clinical trials you can apply too”.
Me: “Fuck doc, so I’m at the end of my rope for cancer meds?
Onc: “Don’t be discouraged. There are some good alternatives”
Me: “where? Alaska?”
Onc: “Actually Huntington Beach”

In the end no brain radiation was needed, plus I lucked out and got on the tail end of a clinical trial that has shown great promise in treating the body and the brain.

But there are the side effects. Always the side effects. I’ve been on it for six weeks and will get scans early 2019 to check how things are going. And yep, I am scared. And scarred too.

I often wonder if it’s best to live a long life dealing with miserable side effects or a short happy life that unfolds naturally. There are days when sunsets seem logical.
Meanwhile...