Howdy from FIVE PLUS

Waiting.

Yes, still waiting, although in the meantime I visited with my oncologist here in Portland.

We had a nice chat about IL-2 and the possibilities of immunotherapy and the decision to put me back in a holding pattern by the BIDMC doctors.

We scanned the images he had available, although he didn't have the latest one, and we checked out the pretty much static existence of that little colony of muthafuckers living between my two lungs. It's actually a lymph node hanging out just below the branch of my windpipe and while he measured it, it showed almost no significant growth.

And we looked at the possible site of another metastasis on the pancreas, but how they could believe that it is also kidney cancer without a biopsies I dunno, because the pictures don't show anything of anything that remotely could be said to be anything.

But I am sure the radiologists who study these images like to say what this is or what that is if they see some anomaly.

Well, fuck them.

Hanoi, Vietnam, January 2013

Sometimes there is just shit in there that isn't cancer. Just aged organs, which I have one, but we won't go down that road.

My doc here looked at the tail of the pancreas and we studied it for a awhile, but really there is no way to tell one way or the other. Although the Doc didn't say that, that's my logic and without a biopsy it's just guess work based upon what they see in my chest, which they know what it is because they did do a biopsy.

So, I think Doctors and technicians can get a little overheated seeing something in these 50 shades of grey that are the imagery from the C-scans and say what this shadow is or what that shadow is.

They dunno and while they are making an educated guess, it's still a fucking guess.

SO, I do have cancer that has metastasized, I already knew that, but it doesn't mean that everything that is abnormal on one of these scans has also got to be cancer. I mean, come'on man, give a patient a break.

And, what if it is a small Deathstar Colony…so what.

Fuck them.

Update, November 14, 2013

My friends in Chile.

Well, another scan has come and gone. And this week I took my compass and pointed it toward BIDMC where I was scheduled to have a meeting with my doctors who would provide me with an assessment of the scans.

The most difficult thing to do is to wait.

And.

That is what they have decided to do.

The IL-2 has shocked the cancer, as the Doctor said. And instead of throwing me back into the IL-2 pit he has decided to be more circumspect and WAIT.

I don't know about you but when you know that you have a cancer, and that it is metasizing at not a great speed, but it is still there, waiting is not my first choice. In fact, I had convinced myself that I was going back in the hospital this December for another round of IL-2. Not because I am enthusiastic about the side effects and the lingering effects of the treatment, but that I would be doing something and not sitting in the corner.

The Doc's know best, I guess.

Getting ready to kick some ass.

One of the cancer sites has remained static, no growth and maybe marginal shrinkage.

The primary site had stopped growing on the last scan but has shown modest growth since.

So, the little fuckers are still in there, and unlike those sorry folks in the Philippines, they have survived the first attempt at dislodging them from my body.

But, not to fear, Doc says that in the spring the FDA will be approving some new PD-1 drugs that he intends to use. As he noted, the IL-2 is a 10 on the side-effect siesmic chart, and the PD-1 drugs are more like a 3 and to receive them no hospital time would be needed, except during the period needed to administer the drugs to me.

I get to cool my heels for three months until Feb with the wonderment of what are these little bastards up to in there. In my chest to be specific.

For any patient undergoing whatever therapy, the hope is that when you see the doctor the conversation will revolve around the tremendous success the therapy has had upon you. In this case, me. But small victories are sometimes the ones we have to come to grips with, and that further small victories are really the signposts of the road ahead. For me, the cancer is at a manageable stage and more drastic procedures, like having a death ray zapped into my chest to burn out this band of unwanted settlers can wait, and with luck, never having to be considered again.

Wait. Waiting. Waited.

The news is that I have to wait. For me, generally speaking, I have the mindset to carry on and wait, mostly because I have no choice, but I have to overcome the idea that I was readying myself for battle and now the boats have to go back into the harbor and D-Day will be postponed until some later time on the calendar.

Fuck.

I am just a specimen and a host for some rebellious cells that have attempted to create in me a colony of little devils that have a suicidal goal. But the host is not ready to give an inch to this butt band of bandits and the battle will continue. How's that for alliteration.

So, waiting it is.