Old and Young…we all bleed

Jess’ grandpa and I have a lot in common. You wouldn’t think it at first. He’s a retired mechanic who lives in the high desert of California. He enjoys fishing, he’s crass, and he’s got a cool glass eye…I don’t posses many of those attributes.

But we do have lots in common and last night it was funny to talk about.

“How much Coumadin you takin’ these days? Oh, wow, that’s quite a bit! And they’ve got you taking Asprin too? Yeah, I’m down to 5mg a day but I’ll still bleed like a mother if you cut me! I used to take more but as my steroids get lower so does my need for it. You too eh? Yeah those ‘roids will mess you up.”

We talked about our blood thinners, about being on steroids, about putting on water weight, and about our procedures* we’ve each had done. We swapped stories about anesthesia, which pain killers we prefer, and getting our blood drawn all too often. Good doctors, bad doctors, new medicines, bad side affects…so much to talk about! So much in common!

On this level (and maybe only on this level) we understand each other, speak the same language, and have a common story. We’re living it out in opposite order–he never had a single health problem ’till he hit 65…then the flood gates opened. I, on the other hand, am getting all my procedures and medical issues out of the way early so that I can cruise once I hit 65 (that’s my plan right?). And here we are meeting in the middle.

It’s funny how all this works. Who’da thought that Papa BJ and I would ever have so much in common. Life’s funny like that.

 

* That’s what you call surgeries and such when you start to age.

Can you Handle This?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the immortal words of Destiny’s Child

Can you handle this?

Can you handle this?

Can you handle this?

I don’t think they can handle this.

In the movie 50/50 that I blogged about recently the main character’s girlfriend cheats on him in the middle of his cancer treatments. She doesn’t just cheat on him but obviously fails to be a support to him in many ways. On NPR, speaking about the story behind the movie, the writer shared how the girl friend character represented all those who were unable to walk with him in his journey of fighting cancer.

This really resonated with me. I have had an amazing support system through all of this (and continue to be supported in amazing ways) but there has been loss. There’s been loss of relationship in different areas of my life and in many of those areas it’s come down to some unknown element of that person not being able to deal with the reality of what cancer brings. At first I was a bit hurt by it, I felt a bit abandoned by certain people who I thought would be present during the sickness because they were present before the sickness.

Today I feel much more compassion and understanding (I’m grateful to the movie for helping me to process some of this). While we’re each responsible for our own choices, there is an element of reality to the fact that some are just not fully equipped (for whatever reason) to deal with the harsh realities of a friend fighting cancer (one could probably fill in the blank with many different diseases or crisis’ here). We all have baggage and some of our baggage does not allow us to walk in certain places. Some people just can’t go there, it’s too intense, or too painful, or too…something. On the flip side, some of our baggage allows us to walk with people in places where very few others can go! We’ve had some of these people too! Surprising people, previously unknown people have stepped up in the midst of the last five months to care for us in ways that we never would have expected…and almost %100 of the time it’s because they’ve had experiences that allow them to go with us to some of these places.

I don’t want to blame people anymore for their lack of ability, for their lack of experiences, for their lack of whatever that has kept them from being close during all this. It’s not fruitful and it’s also causing me to wonder how it reflects on me! I know of people in my past that I’ve abandoned because it was easier to forget than to care…and I know there will be more in my future! I want to extend the same grace to others that I hope has and will be extended to me.

Regardless, I grieve the (temporary?) loss of some relationships along the way, but I’ve come to understand that it’s just another exhibit of our humanity playing itself out in real life. I don’t want to blame people for their brokenness as much as I would hope they wouldn’t blame me for mine. Destiny’s Child was right, some people just can’t handle this…my body’s too bootilicious…but then again, so is yours.

Chemo Round Two

(that’s not my spine…but it’s the closest I could find that replicated my images. I hope it helps give a bit of context)

Today we received both good news and bad news. Here’s the good news:

  • My brain, lower back, and upper back are clean and tumor free. The squiggles are nothing to be worried about and it appears as though there’s absolutely no reason to worry that my cancer has metastasized to any other part of my central nervous system.
  • Symptomatically my body is showing very little signs of unhealth. My body continues to improve (these days I don’t even us my crutch to get around!), my mobility is getting better, my energy level continues to grow, and my brain continues (as it’s always been…right?) sharp as a tack.
  • We have a plan of attack for the upcoming year. After all the mystery over the last few months its nice, at the very least, to know what’s ahead of us once again.

The bad news is that it appears as though the tumor in my spinal cord has grown. While there’s been no new growth anywhere else, the growth of the original tumor itself is quite clear. All along the oncologist has made it clear that it was very possible that my post-radiation MRI could look worse due to radiation damage, scar tissue, etc. And while this is still true and a possibility, the scans seem to show pretty unmistakably tumor-like growth. Additionally, as a board of oncologists, radiologists, neuroscientists, surgeons, pathologists, and others gathered around my info this morning (prior to my appointment with my oncologist) the pathologist who originally gave me the GBM (level IV cancer) diagnosis made a strong recommendation to bring that cancer back to the table. There was additional info that led her to believe that there might be a ‘chunk’ or small tiny piece of level four cancer in there that shouldn’t be ignored.

The overwhelming and unanimous decision of the board was to move forward as if it was a higher level cancer because the risk/reward was much in my favor to do so. Their recommendation then was that I take chemotherapy medicine for the next year. What this looks like is that every four weeks for one year I would take oral chemo pills for five days. The expectation is that I will be more tired during those five days and for maybe a week following. Unlike when I was on chemo previously I will not be undergoing radiation treatments, I will not be recovering from major surgery, and (hopefully) won’t be recovering from blood clots and a pulmonary embolism. So it shouldn’t lay me flat like the previous series did!

In a sense I came away from this morning feeling somewhat hopeful. It felt good to know that my brain was clean. It felt good to know what to expect for the future. It felt good to anticipate a series of treatments that seems doable (it doesn’t sound overwhelming to take pills five days a month and be tired for ten).

In reality, however, few of the things listed above should make me feel good or hopeful. The reality is that while the cancer hasn’t appeared anywhere else, the fact that it’s growing communicates that we are indeed dealing with an aggressive form of cancer…not good. What SHOULD bring hope and make me feel good is that, as always, my life (and yours) is about so much more than simply extending life but about truly experiencing it! It’s about making something of it, about living something beautiful, and about leaving a legacy. I wish Jesus would use his Jesus-powers and magically zap this stuff out of here…but that’s not the story I’ve been invited to tell…

 

…yet??

The Truth About Squiggles

So as you may have read in a previous post, I’ve got squiggles in my brain. We don’t really know what that means (neither did my radiation oncologist) but we know that in general one does not want squiggly lines in his brain.

On Sunday I finally got all of my MRI scans done (including a re-scan of my head), today I meet with my brain surgeon, tomorrow morning the monthly tumor board will gather around my case, and tomorrow late morning I’ll meet with my oncologist. Most likely whatever we find out will be murky and inconclusive (isn’t that how this works?), hopefully we’ll walk away with some basic idea of what the implications of having three ‘artifacts’ in my brain are, and ideally we’ll walk away knowing that I do not need more radiation or chemo for the time being.

Regardless we’d appreciate your prayers over the next two days. It’s been a long time coming to this point (and I realize it’s the first of many such points in our future) and we are eager to make it to Thursday.

The good news, the best news of all, is that bad news has always come on Thursdays (go ahead and research it. Read all the old blogs. Thursday has come to be synonymous with bad news ’round here)! Considering my appointments are on Tuesday and Wednesday I should be good to go. Bad news doesn’t come on Tuesday and Wednesdays. Only Thursdays. And on Thursday we’ll be sipping margaritas, smokin’ cigars, and celebrating the good news from the previous two days…right?

Have You Seen it Yet?

Love the story behind the story and am intrigued by the movie. Definitely hits close to home! Have you seen it? Should I?