Fatigue and Frustrations

I had a bit of a monologue on IRC earlier today:

• I've been less than positive about my health lately...
• In January, I was thinking I had weeks left.
• These days, weeks seems kinda lofty.
• I don't know how much longer I'll be strong enough to participate in even the simplest online communication.
• If I was crossing below 50% strength in November, I feel like I'm down to 10% now --
• Which gives me a much better idea of what 90-100% of "normal" really was -- and it would be difficult for someone feeling "normal" to know what I mean.
• Imagine your worst case of the flu: I'd say that weighs in at 60%.
• I think about getting a wheelchair because walking down a 100' hallway (at work or a grocery store) seems like running a marathon.
• Hell, going downstairs for a smoke requires returning back upstairs. :(
• I don't know how much longer I have the strength to do stuff.
• I had to ask Angie to take Heather to school from now on because I get so tired with even that minimal work.
• Or at least the one time I parked in the handicapped zone at the school and tried to pick Heather up from school -- I had to sit down after walking across the short distance to the Kindergarten door.
• And I needed to stop at the front of the school to rest before crossing the street.
• Lemme make a map...
• 
  View Larger Map
• The handicapped parking is "below" the "D-shaped" indent coming from Crooked Lake Blvd onto Morris Bye's property.
• Closest to the school is the bus lane.
• The Kindergarten entrance is on the south end of the school, near where the one-way bus lane and parking entrance are found. "B"

Questions, Questions, Questions

I have been frustrated quite a bit lately when discussing things with nurses and such. I feel tired; I wish I didn't. I try to fight for some energy, but it wears me out. But when it comes to answering questions about how I'm feeling -- it almost drives me nuts. It's like I'm not picking the answer that they want me to pick.

I think it all got started heading the wrong direction after I got the tube installed. I had been taking a liter off every day starting Sunday following its installation on the previous Friday (where 4 liters were drained). Initially taking the excess fluid off provided relief. But after a week or so, I was feeling pretty tired and weak. I had a visit with Dr. Amatruda on the Tuesday that followed.

Mainly, they wanted to steer me towards hospice care; I did have the initial visit by a hospice representative but that went like crap. I had opted for the 2nd round of chemo so that I could see the results in a subsequent scan. Because I had done so, I kept getting non-answers from the representative.

• What do they do if I'm on hospice?
  We'll have to do an examination to answer that.
  
  
• Will I still be draining and whatever?
  We'll have to do an examination to answer that.
  
  
• So it's mostly just filling me full of painkillers?
  We'll have to do an examination to answer that.

I'm being hyperbolic there, but it seemed like 30 minutes of hearing, "We'll have to do an examination to answer that." I ask questions, I get no answers.

Well at some point I got to talking to Michelle about not feeling very energetic. The answer I was hearing, whether or not that's what was meant, was: "Do nothing and live with it, or check into the hospital and expect to be there for a few days."

I was looking for a little more gray area with options. Instead, I've done my best to tough it out. Last week I started skipping the draining for a day -- so I skipped Thursday and Saturday and today (Tuesday, March 16). I haven't felt too bloated, and if it's better for me to leave the fluid for its nutrient value, I've chosen to try that. Besides, that was supposed to be one of the side effect/benefits of the chemo.

I have now finished the 2nd round of chemo. There was no scan scheduled. Why the hell not? I haven't a clue. It's kinda the point to have a scan to see if the last two rounds of chemo have done anything for me -- it's the only way to find out. Michelle said once over the phone that since things didn't look good and they mentioned "hospice" that I'd be off on that route (and apparently have no interest in my current health!?).

But what has been tremendously annoying with this is that during this past two months I've been asked, "What's the pain like?" For me, it's not the pain. There are many pains: some are sharp, some dull; some are persistent for a time, others are intermittent; some are really painful, some are mere annoyances. Some is related to nausea, some to the chemo I was taking, so is due to lying in bed a lot. Some is from the fluid. I have a wide array of pains from my left heal to my shoulders. I have fatigue in my legs. I have shortness of breath -- which combine to hurt when I walk up and down the stairs.

I try to explain this, and I get the "you seem bitchy" response. No shit? How the hell else do I answer the question without answering the question?

So I go from one extreme to another: getting non-answers to my questions, and seeming to get non-answers to my replies to questions. What am I supposed to do? I feel like I'm in China or somewhere where I don't speak the language.

Let Me Try To Finish on a Positive Note

It's hard to remain positive with all of this going on. I did finally get Fr. Bill to the house, and that did a great deal to boost my spirits. I had a pretty good confession -- I finally got a handful of things off my chest (although I had already "confessed" to Angie these same things several times).

I received "last rites" again as well (the Church may change the name, but I still think of it as Extreme Unction). I haven't heard any spirit talk to me like I did the first time, but I wasn't expecting such a thing -- hoping, not expecting. Much like I hope for a miracle, but I refuse to expect one.

Prayer does help me, but I don't expect prayer to equal a miracle. If the Lord so chooses, I would answer the calling. Living or dying: both are going to be hard work.


My posts this year have been more of a free-form rambling than I'd tried to do previously. I blame the fatigue and frustration.

More on My Belly

This belly fluid continues being my latest issue. I first noticed it at the start of the year.

• January 22: 5.5 liters
• January 28: 5.0 liters (6 days later)
• February 5: 6.1 liters (8 days later)
• February 10: 5.1 liters (5 days later)
• February 12: 4.0 liters (2 days later)

To me, it's seemed like the day that I get drained is the only day I feel normal. Then I quickly seem to fill up again, doing a lot of gurgling (don't ask me, that's the best I can describe it). On Friday the 12th, I had the "permanent" tube installed; I was surprised they got another 4 liters, but then again I wasn't.

I've been dealing with the tube since Friday. It's just pretty sore there. I haven't peeked under the dressings yet, but I'm supposed to have a nurse come by tomorrow to teach my how to do the draining and changing dressings myself.

As to what the fluid is and why this is happening, I don't really know. I hear some things with the nurses and doctors I talk to. Sometimes I wonder if I hear a sugar-coated explanation or not. It is apparently lymph fluid. It's because "my body is out of balance", or perhaps my kidneys or liver aren't working quite right.

I eat better when I am not so bloated, and I have really been trying to eat more. I see myself in the mirror and look skinnier and skinnier; I try to eat. When I was more bloated, say in the "over 4 liters" vicinity, I felt a lot of pain in my lower abdomen. I don't miss not having that at the moment and I hope I can keep it that way.

But I'm still not feeling all that dandy. The last time I really felt good was over Super Bowl weekend when Tony and Karen came to visit. I really enjoyed their visit and I am so glad that I was feeling as good as I was. (I had been drained that Friday morning and they arrived later in the day.) And Noel and Cathy dropped by the day of the Super Bowl too.

I "had my voice" during that time too, which was also quite nice. Too much of the time I feel winded or find it hard to talk at a louder volume or for any length of time.

Sometimes I feel kinda dandy, even if for just a fleeting moment, and I think, "I've fallen so far, but I'm feeling good and I can't wait to be myself again." And I'll imagine a time when I'm out working on the yard and doing normal things again. I may feel that way once or twice a day and almost every day.

But there are a lot more times when I'm lying in bed having a difficult time turning on my side to take some pain meds or something. This is difficult, and it's hard for me to tell which way I seem to be headed. I'm tired a lot and have a hard time getting comfortable. I really miss "normal".

Update (Feb 14):
Today a home care nurse came in to drain me and begin showing me how to go about doing so myself. It's not a terribly complicated operation; it will be a bit unwieldy at first for me, though.

Here's what it looks like with the dressing off (before draining me):

Now My Belly?

Since about the first of the year, my belly had grown more and more bloated. It was one of the things we had discussed during my last appointment with Dr. Amatruda (it is due to the spread of the cancer to the omentum), but at the time we had not set up an appointment to do anything about it. It seemed that doing so was not that big of a deal once I'd decide.

That weekend, about the 16th of January, it was really beginning to bother me. I tried going about my business early the next week, but it was putting pressure on my stomach which would make me nauseous after eating. So I called the clinic and they made an appointment for Friday the 22nd to do a paracentesis.

This fancy term means that we drained my belly of the fluid. And drain we did. I watched as bottle after bottle filled. My signal to give up was when some bowel interrupted the flow by getting sucked onto the one end of the tube, cutting off the suction (and being a noticeably unpleasant feeling). In all, 5.5 liters was drained.

Since it was a gradual increase, the sudden return to "normalness" itself felt wierd. One thing I recall is that it seemed odd to be able to bend over to put my socks on. They told me that each liter of fluid was about 2 pounds, so I apparently dropped about 10 pounds in a 20-minute span as well. I quickly took advantage of the situation and had Angie stop at the Olive Garden on the way home. So I feasted.

Even this past weekend -- only a day or two after this procedure -- it almost seemed to me that I was getting back to bloated again. Well here it is not even a week later and I can say that again my belly is bloated and again I'm almost an outtie. I made an appointment to have another paracentesis tomorrow.

This time, they might put something in that will stay in and then be able to be "tapped" -- somehow -- to drain off the fluid without always going through this procedure. The procedure itself seems to share a bit with being a pregnant woman: I've got the expanded belly, they look around with ultrasound.

Anyways, I'm not sure about this more "permanent" tube or whatever. I imagine I'll find out tomorrow. But again it will be nice not to be bloated all of the time.

My Prognosis

As I'd hinted, I had a little bit of advance notice of bad news. Michelle, Dr. Amatruda's nurse, called me yesterday afternoon and asked me if I wanted to know the result of the recent PET/CT. Previously, I have waited to hear from Dr. Amatruda so I could ask questions right away if it was bad news. But since I've already had bad news, I decided to go for the word up front.

She told me that the PET/CT showed that my cancer had spread again. It was now in my pelvis and omentum, a membrane in my abdomen. The tumors in my verterbra had grown. But the liver was looking okay.

I let Angie in on this late last night, after Heather had gone to bed. The abdomenal spread to me explained the pressure I had been feeling in the abdomen -- a side effect is that fluid collects near the tumors or something. But overall, my outlook does not look good. Angie decided to join me for my visit with Dr. Amatruda earlier today. She had questions about what to expect.

Dr. Tom reiterated much of the above and went into further details where necessary. But much of what turned into a pretty long office visit involved my future and outlook. The short version: six months might be on the long side of my expected remaining life.

I elected to give one more form of chemo a shot for the off chance that it does something, maybe just buying me a little more time to see my happy little Heather. Temazolamide is the name, and pill form is the game. It's not supposed to be as harsh as the intravenous stuff, and we're not really expecting any great results, but I'll give it a try.

Mostly it looks like my future will be continued deterioration as the cancer spreads. I will grow weaker and need to think about giving up work. And look into ways to stay comfortable and control the pain. We talked about things to do in regard to work, insurance, considering eventual hospice care, and such like that. Not exactly uplifting, but it was a necessary exercise.

Thank you for all of your thoughts and prayers that have helped bring me along months past the typical expectation of 9 months from diagnosis: I've beaten that. And I enjoy every extra smile from Heather, every little laugh from Angie, and all the smiles that have come to me from jokes and stories from life. Short of a miracle though -- and I'll take one if it comes along -- I probably won't be ringing in 2011 with you.

More Chemo After Christmas

I had been scheduled for chemo on Monday the 28th. I had called to see if I could move it, and there was no problem with that. So the day after we got back, I had to go in for another infusion. I already wasn't feeling great, and this didn't help. And Angie was in such a furious hurry to clean the house, that my Tuesday did not start all that well.

I went in to work a bit on Wednesday and Thursday, but I didn't get a great deal accomplished. I also began having more issues with nosebleeds after this last bit of chemo. It's partly the dry weather, and partly that the Avastin makes it more likely. But again coupled with my post-nasal drip, it makes for yet another less than comfortable way to wake up in the mornings.

My appetite seemed to come back. A tale I have been telling is that one day at work I had one of my old favorite tuna melt combos from Davanni's. Back before all the cancer, that was about enough to fill me up with just the "half" sandwich. But afterwards I felt I could have gotten the "full" version with 2 6-inch sandwiches. So I did just that the next day. And I still hit the vending machine for a candy bar that afternoon.

With this appetite, I was hoping to get back some of that weight I'd lost last fall. I had dropped from 145ish to just under 130 pounds. I'm not sure when: during the 4th embolization or so. But even though I had the appetite, I'd end up feeling very full -- almost uncomfortably so -- after eating big. So I could only do that about once a day. But I was happy to be eating.

Noel did us a great favor and inspected and found a fix for our dryer. This comes as great comfort to Angie who has been continuing her post-Christmas, post-Brooke cleaning. The tree and decorations came down pretty quickly. But she couldn't help but do many loads of laundry, dryer or not.

I had the 3rd and last infusion of chemo for this latest round on January 4th. They generally take a blood sample beforehand, and this time my numbers came in too low. This meant that I couldn't get the Taxol, but that they would give me the Avastin. I was wondering if the low numbers were an explanation for why I've had little energy these day. I'm still not entirely sure.

I was scheduled for a PET/CT following the round of chemo, and I had that scan done on the 7th. I meet with Dr. Amatruday tomorrow to discuss the results. But his nurse Michelle called today to give me a bit of advance notce of them, so I could think about them beforehand to ask questions. I don't mean to keep anyone in suspense, but I'll wait until after my appointment tomorrow to mention my current status. I will update this post, so check here again to find out.

Update: I changed my mind -- the update is a post of its own.

Chemo and Christmas, Part 2

I left off as we had gotten to Bismarck on the night of of December 22. I was really worn out, but Angie still had to unload everything of Brooke's at her dad's. I don't think I could have helped if I'd wanted to, though.

On the 23rd, I woke up late-ish to get Heather some breakfast, but was still pretty tired. I didn't do much, and maybe caught a brief nap, but I needed to make one last shopping stop to Best Buy with Michael. Thankfully, that went very quickly.

I don't know that I really did a whole heckuva lot the rest of the day. Mom had to work, and I think I tried to work on "my chores" that get saved up for when I visit: fix up a couple of things with her computer, I put some plastic on a window, looked into issues with on of her TVs, and tried to figure out what is wrong with her phones.

It seems to me that Karen was making her delicious version of Mom's chocolate- and butterscotch-chip cookies. And I'm pretty sure I grabbed a few before they had cooled. And I tried my best to make and join conversations. But again I was pretty worn out, and was having an issue with shoulder and back pains.

It dawned on me that while my prescription of percocet would be just fine were I at home, being out of town threw a bit of a wrench in the works: with Friday being Christmas, I needed to call the clinic to see if I could get a new prescription pronto. Unfortunately, it's a controlled substance, so I have to pick up the prescriptions in person. After talking with Dr. Amatruda's nurse Michelle, I decided to try to minimize taking the percocets, and as a backup to try some of the 20mg oxycontins.

Ya see, normally 30 percocets can go a long way. But if I take two at a time at four hour intervals (say 3 times in a day) for 5 days, I'd be running out on Sunday night when we would be getting home. I didn't count 'em, but 30 seemed like a good guess of what I had left. Going by onesies and overlapping them a bit, I was taking about 5 per day, I think. But that wasn't really giving me much relief.

Angie spent much of the day visiting. I think her sister Darcy was going to be out of town after Christmas Eve, so that was one of the places she stopped. For Christmas Eve, Angie went to her folks' dinner and gift opening. I was still not up to leaving the house. But Dan came over to visit me at Mom's, which I appreciated.

Angie was done with her dinner and gift opening early enough that our gift opening and Mom's was not really affected much. With some well-timed percocets, I was feeling good after 10pm, so I trailed behind Mom and Karen, Michael, and James who had gone next door to Barb & Andy's. I had a pretty good visit over there and enjoyed many good snacks. Although I don't think I lasted an hour, it was very nice to get out of the house and visit with Bonnie and everybody over there.

Christmas day came with a lot of snow. I began to worry about the drive home -- we were planning to leave on Sunday. But the snow kept coming and coming. And I was still not feeling great, the old "worn out and tired" was getting old; the pain was becoming a pain. I was still rationing my percocets, especially since I was now thinking about leaving Monday instead.

I did my best to try to keep up with conversations and be sociable, but many moments found me sitting in front of Mom's computer in what was my original bedroom. It had become my place to try to weather the pain while waiting for the meds to kick in. I just couldn't sit still and carry on a conversation in the living room or kitchen as much as I'd try. There was certainly nothing more comfortable for a chair in that room, but the little 30-second distractions on the monitor kept my mind off of how I felt. And when I was starting to feel better I'd make my way back out to where people were. Late at night, I had a good talk with Michael and James, and we were later joined by Karen. Time marched on past midnight, but it was good to talk.

On Saturday I enjoyed a happy helping of leftover turkey and gravy and taters -- which Karen had fixed so well for Christmas dinner the day before. By no fault of the food, I had some kind of stomach issue later that day. I fell asleep watching some football, but I was really just feeling about the worst I'd felt the whole time. I mostly slept much of the evening, too, and eventually my stomach caught up with me.

I had been hoping to pack up on Saturday, but I could not bring myself to do it with all of the nausea. Since we really weren't packed up to be ready to go first thing Sunday morning, and given the still-snowy weather, we wouldn't be heading out on Sunday.

We did get to most of the packing on Sunday, and I was feeling better after the prior night's purge. We also had the opportunity to do more visiting. Angie was all over town visiting people all week. For me it was just taking the time to talk to Michael, James, Karen, and Mom. Which probably worked well for both of us.

Monday we headed out, Michael driving solo so I could play disk jockey for Heather in the back of Angie's Trailblazer. The roads were damn good considering the blizzard that had just blown through. We got back in time to watch the Vikings on Monday Night Football. Unfortunately, that close game ended in a Minnesota loss. I took Michael to the airport after the game: he had his flight back to Seattle early on Tuesday morning.

Quite the Eventful Day

Thursday the 9th of December started out a fairly normal day. Angie had to open at the Zimmerman store, Brooke went to school, and I started my day getting Heather ready for school. Heather had had a bit of a cough for several days, but never had a fever and seemed fine otherwise. It was cold that day, and I couldn't find Heather's backpack, so I dropped her off closer to school and walked her in so I could tell her teacher she was missing anything that she might need in the backpack.

I had a bit of an appetite, and I wasn't going to pass on this increasingly rare condition, so I had some lunch about 12:30. I was surprised to hear Angie come in a few minutes later. To me it is a given not to call or in any way assume anything other than the fact that Angie is very busy during lunch hour when she is working. So I was not expecting her until closer to 2:00.

She had gone to work at the new Zimmerman, MN Hardee's greatly in part to the fact that she wanted to work with Barb. Barb was the manager of the Elk River store that Angie had most recently worked at. I was never very keen about Zimmerman because it was almost twice as far as Elk River that I already thought was a bit far.

Well, Angie had a story to tell about her day, but the short version is that Barb to "promoted" to a position in which she would not be managing the Zimmerman store. Needless to say, Angie was pretty upset. She has had issues with some of the other people, and at 3am I imagine the drive suddenly did not seem as short as it once might have. Really the only thing that was keeping her tolerant of working in Zimmerman was Barb. She told the new manager that she was going home and said she didn't care to work there anymore. It was sort of an ultimatum: she'd work in the Anoka store, but not Elk River nor Zimmerman; if that didn't work, she would be quitting.

After listening to the tale, I went back upstairs to continue working from home. Angie left the house about 3:40 to pick up Heather. About 3:55, I got a call from the school: they said Heather was puking and we'd need to pick her up from the nurse's office. I called Angie to let her know. And in the meantime, I scheduled an appointment for after-hours care, which wouldn't be until 7:00.

When Heather got home, she looked like heck. We took her temperature, but she wasn't above 100. But not even an hour later, I checked again and she was over 102. So the two of them packed up and went to the ER. I am not really supposed to be around sick people during chemo, so a hospital isn't the best place -- well, the waiting room at least. Besides, I needed to wait until Brooke got home from wherever. She had skipped coming home right after school like she is supposed to, and I had little idea where she was or how to find her (she has a way of making this the case).

As I waited, I tried calling Angie a couple of times. I knew that her phone needed to be off in the ER, but it's tough just waiting. Angie was able to sneak a quick call and gave me an update. I could even hear in the background that Heather sounded better after they were able to get her fever down. But she had pneumonia and they would be admitting her to the hospital.

Angie called several more times with updates, from the ER, from the room they were admitted to, and kept me up to date. During this time, I was still waiting for Brooke. And I was deciding that if we had flu?/pneumonia in the house, with me on chemo, and having just few out-of-the-ordinary (for me) coughs and a tightness in my chest, I figured I'd probably want to get myself checked as well.

And I waited and I waited and I waited for Brooke to get home. She was supposed to be home by 9:00, but I hadn't seen her by then. It was finally about 9:30 that she was making something in the kitchen that she made her presence known. She insisted she was home by 9:00 but went right downstairs. Sneaking out, skeaking in, she is never easy. Loud all the rest of the time, but not when I need it.

Well, I grabbed a bag with some things for Angie and quickly headed out the door. I stopped at McDonald's and grabbed Angie something to eat on the way. I came up to visit Heather fairly briefly and drop things off. She looked like she was doing a lot better. But apparently she was still having a hard time keeping food down.

Then I went to the ER. There wasn't a line, so things went somewhat quickly. But it was still a lot of waiting for test results. Blood draw and wait for the result. Chest Xray and wait for the result. They didn't find any pneumonia or flu, so that was good. But something in the results made them look for a possible blood clot in the lungs. I think one of the chemicals in my chemo has some clotting behavior to it. So they also got me in for a CT. Eventually, they ruled me pretty much okay, maybe with some bronchitis.

I visited Heather and Angie again briefly before leaving, but it was already 1am. They still looked pretty good, although trying to rest and not all that comfortable. I stopped at Walgreen's on the way home to fill my prescription, and in my wait time went for a quick look for something to eat. The only place open at that hour was White Castle. Not what I'd hoped for, since I hadn't eaten since lunch, I was damn hungry.

I got home a bit after 1:30. And I was disappointed with Brooke for being up downstairs and later discovering that one of the first things she did after I left was go into our room and grab Angie's laptop (which she is suppposed to ask permission for before every time she uses it). She has a way with taking these little opportunities to impress us with her maturity and failing rather miserably.

Friday morning I was scheduled to go to the clinic for lab work (meaning a blood draw). I didn't sleep well, and I was up by 7am, even though after trying to unwind I hadn't gone to sleep until after 3am. Well, I needed to let work know that I'd be doing my best to work from home. And I tried to call the clinic and see if I could skip out on the blood work -- if they could use last night's results from the ER.

I did skip it, my callback didn't come until 9:20, and I was scheduled to be there at 9:20. But Dr. Amatruda's nurse let me know that I didn't need to come in and that they could use the ER results. Or if anything, for me just to stay home and rest and if they need a different test that they'd call me back for Monday.

But in the process of discussing blood and test results, she let me know that the tumor on the 2nd thorasic had grown. And that a new one was spotted on the 12th. And, as a later call from the radiologists also mentioned, that there might be some cancer in my lung, but that they thought it was most likely mucus.

Later, Angie had called to let me know how Heather was doing. She also let me know that the school called and said the Brooke had some injury to her hand and that Angie needed to come pick her up. Angie was not happy about that, and looking at Brooke's hand later we had no idea why she needed to be taken out of school.

I was having a bit of a time trying to work, and had fallen asleep around noon or so. I missed my Friday call with my manager and felt pretty bad about it. Later I did call a co-worker about the software we're working with, but he pretty much tabled things until Monday.

Heather was released from the hospital in the afternoon. Brooke was of course grounded for not coming home after school the day before. So of course when Angie went to pick up some prescriptions, Brooke left and left a note saying she'd be back about 9. I had been upstairs and Heather was watching TV downstairs when Angie left (apparently followed by Brooke). It sounded "too quiet" downstairs, so I went to check it out and learned this situation. Again we were more than a bit unimpressed with Brooke.

But Heather seemed to be doing all right, and she kept herself fairly well entertained. I did my best to keep a sharp ear for her from the upstairs as I tried to simultaneously "kept an eye" on her while trying to keep my distance because of the chemo and the reduced immunity.

All in all, it was quite the eventful 24-hour period. Frankly, I prefer a less exciting routine.

The New Round of Chemo

Let's see, when we last left off, I had just had a wonderful time dealing with the nausea from my latest start of chemo. I think it was about the Monday or Tuesday after this first bit of chemo that I noticed my temperature being a little bit high. I tried my usual methods to see if it was of any concern -- usually having a smoke in the garage cools me down from a warm upstairs and I get a more accurate reading. But I was still above my 100.5: during chemo, this is the temperature at which they tell me to call in. Well, if I call in, I know they're just going to tell me to go to the ER, so I second guessed it for a while and tried to shed some clothes and what-not.

It didn't work. When I'd read 102.something I knew it was going to be another trip to the ER. Angie got the girls fed and then we all went to get me checked out. Of course it takes a while, a wait I'm sort of getting used to. After triage (I had already taken some ibuprofen or tylenol and beaten them to that part) I got a room. And they came for blood. It must have been flu season because I gave a little extra for some flu cultures. Yada yada, I forget, temperature down, prescription for Tamiflu or something and I was released. Your typical 3-4 hour ER visit when things are pretty much okay.

And things stayed okay. I was able to enjoy a very nice Thanksgiving dinner here, and my stomach was nice enough to cooperate. Angie had to do pretty much all the work, but she did a wonderful job. I think I only helped near the end with taking the turkey out of the roaster and carving it.

And the day after Thanksgiving I had my next bit of chemo. This one was a quicker push, and it seemed like I barely started by Benadryl nap and it was all over. I haven't had the greatest experience this time around. I've been visited by the nausea that I didn't have with the chemo this spring. And I seem to have been more tired and had more body aches. I was considering throwing in the towel on this latest attempt. I asked Angie what she thought, and she felt much the same.

But I brought all the info/feedback I had, good and mostly bad, and went to see Dr. Amatruda on Tuesday, Dec. 1. We discussed the many things we have to talk about. But even before I'd said I was thinking of taking a pass -- maybe he could sense it -- he explained that they prefer to go two rounds and then scan to see the results. A "round" in this case being the series of three injections. I decided to try my best to see it through. I figure I've always got a trump card that I can just say "enough" at any given time things get to be too much.

We scheduled up the next round, and I managed to straddle Christmas a bit. I'll have chemo on the 21st and 28th, and cross my fingers that in between I'm good enough for the trip to Bismarck and back for Christmas at Mom's.

And so I went for the last injection of this round on that Friday the 4th. I don't feel great. I spend a lot of time in bed and surfing the net. I am able to get some work done, too, and have been spending more time working from home. My new work PC connects with my home wireless whereas my old PC didn't, so it's been a bit easier.

Status Update

Bumping that 4th C-E by 2 weeks messed up other scheduled scans and appointments a bit. My followup MRI was eventually moved to Oct 14th. Dr. Close, the doctor who performed the embolizations, wanted to meet with me that same day to discuss the results.

I was done with the MRI a little after 9, and Angie wanted to be there for the consultation with Dr. Close. It's usually a 10-minute drive from home to Suburban Imaging, so I thought I had plenty of time to get Angie and return by the appointment time of 10. As it turned out, I pushed it a little too close and Angie was still asleep when I got home. She arrived separately in time to meet with Dr. Close, but needed to bring Heather with her.

Dr. Close showed that the tumors in my liver were shrinking, which was good news. But the fourth C-E also ended up producing a fair amount of infarction in the right lobe. This means that normal, healthy liver got killed as well. On its own this isn't terrible -- it will regenerate.

But somewhere in this time I had gotten a fever that went to about 102.5. Shortly after the C-E procedures, I am supposed to go to the ER if I get to 100.5. But this was four weeks later. I started monitoring the fever a little more closely prior to the 102.5, and when it got there, I called Minnesota Oncology. Of course I was told to go to the ER.

In the ER they took some blood to check for the flu, since that had started popping up about that time, but the cultures turned out negative. I don't remember the time frame all that well, but the upshot is that I ended up monitoring my temperature a lot more frequently. And I was able to discern activities that tended to increase my odds of bumping up a fever. I kept the fever business in check, but it took until just recently to really seem to break it. I think the fever has been a response to the infarction.

Again, I forget a bit the order of events, but I think the fever was before meeting with Dr. Close. Near the end of the visit, Angie had to tend to Heather, so I was by myself when I left Dr. Close's office. He left me with the impression that there was more information forthcoming, and asked me to call later in the day.

When I called, Dr. Close said that in the MRI he thought he had seen indication of the cancer spreading to bone, to my ribs. I had already been trying to schedule another PET/CT to get the "big picture" on where things might have spread. This news left me with something to expect regarding that scan.

I had the PET/CT on the 23rd, and today when I met with Dr. Amatruda I got those results. He informed me that the results showed that I have metastasis on 2nd(?) thoracic vertebra(?). I was fairly distracted during much of the rest of the visit, dwelling on this result. I boiled things down a couple of times: "If we hadn't had the progression to the bone, if it was just the liver tumors shrinking, it would have been a good news day, right?" "Yes." And, "I'd heard that when it gets to the bone, that's pretty much it." "Well, with melanoma it's not all that different from tumors on the liver." I found this comforting in its own way.

Regarding the progression to the verterbra, Dr. Tom examined me a bit. I haven't really had any pain in my back that I thought was of notice. Given this, he was leaning against using radiation to treat this, but it is something he will consider with the radiation treatment folks.

I was finally able to focus a bit as Dr. Amatruda again presented my treatment options.

• Experimental: Sorafenib + Torrisel vs Sorafenib + Tipifurnib
• Avastin
• Temozolomide
• IL-2

We're going to check on my eligibility for the experimental treatment or Avastin, my first and second choices, and then go from there. Wel'll see where things go.

But I've been feeling fairly good lately. Thankfully the pain after this 4th C-E hasn't been as bad as the 3rd. Still, it has been a pretty long recovery time. The fevers and infarction complicated things a bit. My appetite was not very keen much of the time since #4, but I think things are returning to a normal. Yesterday I had 3 meals and had a fairly productive full day at work.

So that's about where things stand.

Already I Get Out of the Update Habit

Monday and Tuesday were a lot like Sunday, I guess. I didn't go to work and wasn't really feeling all that great. Wednesday, however felt pretty good.

I was feeling a bit better toward Tuesday night. And then I'd gotten a pretty fair night's sleep . I was thinking I'd finally be ready to go to work on Wednesday. When I woke up about 7:30 I was still feeling pretty good, but tired. So I snoozed a bit more. When I got up at 9, though, my stomach was rather upset. After dealing with that for a while, I went back to bed to lie down for a while.

I started heading into work about noon, thinking that I'd last a couple hours. But I was feeling pretty good there and getting quite a bit done. So I stayed until about 6. I was still in "work mode", so I kept working on a copy of things on my USB drive. I wasn't all that tired, and didn't really have pain out of "the ordinary", so I put in some good time on work stuff. I went to bed a bit after 1am.

This morning I thought and hoped would be much like yesterday, but things soured early and stayed that way. A "new" pain for me was a pain in the side -- perhaps the liver is not projecting all that far away . It kinda felt like I'd been kicked in the ribs on my right side. This didn't get any better during the day, and in fact got worse -- even trying to chase it away with some vicodin. Although I'd gotten in earlier this morning, by 3 o'clock I'd had enough.

I came home, took some percocet, and went right to bed. And I've pretty much been here since. The percocets weren't working by themselves, so I had to add an oxycontin. That is finally taking the sharpness out of the pain. I've still got a duller pain in that area, but it doesn't keep be so completely doubled over like it had done earlier today.

Maybe I just bit off more than my body could chew yesterday and today. Well, at least I've made some good progress with some of the things for work. But tomorrow I'll be playing it by ear a bit more -- and I'll probably be more willing to throw in the towel at an earlier stage.

Rough Night

Last night ended up being a nice little reminder of the way I'd felt after #3. I think it started with an upset stomach (at least that's how it felt to me). The mac & cheese that Brooke made was the last thing that seemed to sit well with me. After that, I was all screwed up.

The Diet Dew, Gatorade, or even cold water just seemed to sit on top and aggrevate my stomach, which really did turn into a pretty good belly ache on its own. When I'd try to take my meds "on schedule", they didn't seem to do their normal thing through my messed up stomach. So as the night wore on, I got the shoulder pain returning more intensely. And it spread to other parts of my back as well. And for some reason, the backs of my upper arms were sore too. I think I might be rubbing more muscles than I'm thinking about and maybe that was in turn getting a little sore.

Anyways, sleep escaped me for most of the night. My night was familiar, like the ones in early August, in which I was rather tired -- drained -- but had enough pains in the shoulder or belly to keep me uncomfortable. And being uncomfortable kept me moving around in search or some kind of a comfortable position. I think I may have nodded off for a half hour or so on the couch during one stop. After I woke up from that, about 6:30 am, I took some more meds and went back to bed.

Heather was up about 7:30 and wanted to watch TV, but I asked her to go back to bed for a little bit. I woke up about 9 to find her quietly building a fort for her stuffed animals at the foot of the bed. I turned on the TV for her and wandered about in search of some pain relief. It didn't really go so well. I tried to watch some pre-game and some football, but that wasn't going so well either.

Brooke had made a frozen pizza about 1ish; I came downstairs a bit later and reheated some. I was very hesitant, but so far following Brooke's lead had worked for me, so I gave a couple slices a try. It was rough getting them down, because the belly ache was still with me. And maybe a half hour or so later it was time for some meds again. Now this time apparently my ducks were in a row. It was tough on my stomach at first, but it finally sat well and the meds began to work more as I hope and expect them to.

So by about 4 I was finally getting rid of the belly ache and the shoulder and back pains. Finally some relief! And then I was extremely drained of all energy, but I hadn't really been able to fall asleep. And so for the moment I'm feeling fairly pain-free and tired, drained. But it's definitely an improvement. Unfortunately, I'll probably need to eat something soon. I hope I don't repeat this little cycle of the past day.

Good To Be Home

If definitely feels far more comfortable to be at home. And now I'm adjusting to what it's like being out of the hospital. No real surprises, much the same as it's been before.

The pain is returning. This time it seems to mostly be projected into my right shoulder. If you've ever been to a chiropractor and he's dug his elbow down into the muscle on your shoulder, that's a pretty good approximation. Except that it goes on for a period of a half hour or maybe two hours, depending on when and to what extent the meds smooth things out.

So far, the old regiment seems to work about like it did before. But that still means that hour or whatever in which I just have the pain and kind of writhe and shake and try to find distractions such as Facebook games to keep me distracted. Or just wandering about. In its own way, I guess I get used to it, but it's not a lot of fun. Maybe a bath will help out too. To me it seems that even though the pain is projected from the liver, treating the symptom of rubbing my shoulder or whatever seems to make it go away. So that helps.

I haven't been able to sleep all that much. Maybe an hour and a half early last night, another hour and a half on the couch for a while. This morning I think I caught another half hour or so. And there have been a couple of times when I've just been able to roll over a bit and relax enough "watching" TV in the bedroom that I've been half asleep.

Food is staying down better today. Brooke made some mac & cheese that hit the spot. But I'm still covering the lion's share with yogurt, Little Debbie's Snack Cakes. Maybe some pudding later.

It seems like a lot of waiting that I do, though. Waiting for the meds to kick in. I seem to do a lot of waiting.

Back Home from C-E IV

I had what should hopefully be the last C-E of the series on Thursday, if all went well. No, I don't know the results yet.

We've been doing right-left-scan, and intended to do right-left-scan again, but the previous scan showed that the chemo used for the right lobe reduced the tumor size and the chemo used for the left didn't. So we instead hit the left twice in a row when the working chemo was again available. I hope it worked, but the experience was not pleasant. I had meant to do more updates here on the blog last time, but didn't. This is my attempt at trying to do better this time.

The hospital experience was much the same. I don't care for the bed -- I find it very uncomfortable; I find it hard to sleep for more than an hour. I hate being tethered by IV to the meds tree of saline, some o' this or that, and the pain meds (well, those I have a little bit more of an okay time with). I had nausea again as my experience with hospital food continues to go downhill since the first time; then I hadn't found it to be too bad.

I am back home now, and prefer it by far. I've got different meds, of course (can't have a morphine drip at home, ya know). But after #3 I think I've got a cocktail figured out that seems to work for me. And the bed is much more comfortable. And the blankets don't feel like I'm sleeping on a pile of used towels. And I can get a Gatorade, cold milk, or my Diet Dew much more easily. And stuff like my Little Debbie's snacks seem to have more staying power than the hospital toast.

Heck, I can even sneak outside for a smoke. Yeah, I oughtta take that 2-day break as an opportunity to quit for good, but it somehow does take an edge off the pain for 5-10 minutes as I'm waiting for the meds to kick in. At those moments those few minutes mean a lot to me.

But of course the best is being close enough to at least hear the girls and pretend things are relatively normal. I even felt good enough an hour or so ago to give Heather her bath. And I can keep myself a little more back into routine putzing around on the computer: reading, chatting, seeing what folks on Facebook are doing. I can flip the TV on in the background (to more channels that might interest me) and keep myself distracted better. And when I'm tired and the pain is under control, it's easy to just roll over and shut my eyes and be able to relax fairly well if not fall asleep.

I hope things continue like this if not improve. As long as my situation doesn't begin to deteriorate before getting better like #3. So that's about what I know so far. I'll try to update here more often than I did last time.

C-E III

I'm tired of saying and writing "chemoembolization". I had my latest C-E on July 21st. It didn't seem to go as well for me this time. Maybe it accomplished what it needed to, but I've been feeling very crappy ever since.

[Continuing from this brief bit started from 8/12.]

It seemed to start off well, I remember joking with Dr. Close while getting prepped. The procedure seemed to go like the two previous ones.

Back in the hospital room after it was over, though, I noticed that my butt felt wet. I uncovered myself to find that the tegaderm over the incision had come off and that I had been bleeding a little. Perhaps that was a sign that things would be different this time. I called the nurse and they got me fixed up pretty quickly. But over the next few weeks I still had a black-and-blue mark in the area of the incision. Perhaps I was writhing around too much this time and hadn't been aware of it.

Again, I thought things would be like the times before, and so I tried eating like I had previously. But then I wasn't as up for the more solid foods as before, so I switched to more of jello and pudding meals. Even that didn't sit well, and this time around I had a couple of battles with nausea that did bring me to vomit twice. (Sorry for being graphic.)

I stayed longer into the second day than I had previously, but left the following day as I had before. My reasoning then and now is that it's better to be feeling like crap in the more comfortable surroundings at home than in the hospital. When you cut to the chase, besides the drugs administered there, there was little to be gained by staying.

I think I had planned to work on the Thursday and Friday as I believe I had done before. But this time around I even found it difficult in my attempts to work from home on those days. And I believe this same issue with pain spilled over into the next week. On Thursday the 30th, I mentioned this to Dr. Tom and he bumped me up to percocet. I remember calling the following Tuesday and mentioning that to me it had no effect; I believe I called it "junk". So apparently the pain had been much more than I had anticipated, and looking back it was more than I thought even at the time. On that Tuesday that I called, they prescribed my oxycontin to take "under" the percocet/vicodin (one or the other) and the ibuprofin. That may have taken it down a notch to tolerable, but I don't know how much I had noticed back then -- I believe it did lower my pain.

My sister Karen and nephew James had planned back in July and earlier to come visit in early August. How I will be feeling is never really something I can forecast, so it was all wait and see. Unfortunately, during the time they were here I had never really gotten back to even a nice 50% level.

I had picked them up at the airport on Saturday the 1st. On Sunday they went to Bismarck to help Mom with the plethora of issues involving Dad and his turn for the worse with his Alzheimer's. Dad had turned mean during a hospital stay, and has since been in the hospital, restrained at times early on, or in nursing care. So it has really not been a "vacation" type summer for us Sinkulas, time away from work or not.

I felt bad that I couldn't do much when Karen and James were here. It would have been nice to go to the Minnesota Zoo or some other things in town while they were here, but I couldn't really get too far away from my bed upstairs for any length of time. We did get to talk about things on a deeper level than we have before, and it was very nice to just see them again. But I really wish I'd had more life in me at the time.

On Saturday, August 8th, I believe, we did get together at my house with my cousin James and his family. It's odd that they live in the metro area but I hadn't visited in many, many years. This too was a good, albeit brief, time to visit with family for me. And again I'd wished I'd had more spunk.



Karen and James returned home on the 11th, and all that morning I tried to see if I felt like I could drive them to the airport and make it back myself. By the time it came to go, I didn't think that I could do it. Although the pain had receded by this point in time, tiredness and a queasy stomach were making a play. Perhaps they had been there before but I hadn't noticed them over the pain.

At some point during that week, I was doing partial days of working from home, and I think I made it in to the office for half of the day on that Friday (the 14th?). The following week I was still not putting in a full day in the office. It was about this time -- 10 days out -- that I was questioning my readiness for the next scheduled C-E, which was set for the 25th. After making calls to Dr. Amatruda and Dr. Close and "their people", we did decide to bump it. Likely due to the pain I was reporting, Dr. Amatruda wanted me to have a bone scan to verify that things had not spread there yet. This was scheduled for the 25th.

Hey, a new scan for me. It didn't have the no-eat, no-drink rules, so I was happy about that. I had to go in a little before 8 to get an injection of something lightly radioactive and then return for the scan at 10:30. Originally I was planning to go to the office and set up my computer which takes forever to boot up. But being a little tired and Suburban Imaging being about halfway, but closer to home, I decided to return home and just lie down and relax.

I relaxed too much, apparently, as I looked over at the clock which read 10:40 as I abruptly woke up. I quickly called to let them know I'd be on my way, and thankfully there were no appointments that followed mine. So I was able to get in and get the scan done. This one used a machine more like at CT than an MR: a thinner "donut". And I didn't need to hold by breath like I'd had to for the abdominal scans. But this one lasted a half hour. The only odd part was when my head was in the machine and one part of the "donut" was inches from my face. Other than that, it's an easy scan.

Folks other than myself tend to be anxious for the results. I decided to wait two days before calling about other things and to see if the results were in at that point. They were, and they indicated nothing new and bad. And apparently they had just called home and talked to Angie and given her this news.

So now were mostly to the present. I've been doing my best to work in the office all the last week, and the pain really given way to being excessively tired and a not quite settled stomach. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been online a lot, but clicking buttons and looking at goofy pictures, or even skimming or reading, has been much easier to do than to try and sit and write this out. I know I must have forgotten plenty of things I was going to write when I'd had intentions of starting this weeks ago. But hopefully I hit the main points.

Good News for a Change

Last week on Monday I had a CT and an MRI of the "after" chemoembolization I and II. As I've mentioned, I tend to avoid even looking at the disks they give me before I leave Suburban Imaging. So this morning I was again pretty nervous for my consultation with Dr. Amatruda.

Fortunately, this time he had relatively good news for me. The tumor(s) on the right (probably the dark spots to the left in the picture) -- treated in the first chemoembolization -- were smaller, and the one(s) on the left -- treated in the second round -- were the same size. There was a side note that there was a nationwide shortage of the particular type of chemo used in I that wasn't used in II. So our course of action is to continue another right-left go with chemoembolizations, and preferably with the one with which my tumor(s) got smaller.

With that, we're heading to Bismarck tomorrow for the holiday weekend. I'd better get to packing soon.

Chemoembolization Followup II

Much like the last time, it took me about 10 days to start getting back to normal. Of course I'd started trying earlier than that.

I'd spent all of Monday (June 8) in the hospital, coming home Tuesday about noonish. My issues with the bed disappeared with the morphine drip that I hit more regularly this time. As explained to me by Dr. Tom, the backaches and sore shoulders were projected pain from the liver. So I took the pain meds more liberally this time around.

Angie had asked if I'd wanted her laptop the previous time, but I declined. This past time, however, I decided to give it a go. It was rather nice to have internet access, even though I didn't really feel like being "on" that much of the time. Still, it was a more interesting way to kill time when the available TV channels did not interest me.

I took it easier that Tuesday being home, and didn't even try to go in to work on Wednesday. I was feeling a little more achy or tired, I thought, this time around. Or maybe I was just attending the pain with meds again more freely. Either way, I think it was probably better that I'd tried to take it easy. I did about a half day of work on Thursday, and darn near the whole day on Friday, leaving a little bit early.

On the weekend I tried not to do all that much, but did break down and decide to borrow a bigger hammer to pound the stakes for my raspberries' new "tennis court" that I'd started the weekend before when I planted the tomatoes.

This week Monday was almost normal, work-wise. But I had a hard time sleeping that night and Tuesday I worked from home. Today was pretty much the first day back at "business as usual" for me. My appetite has been returning this week after its absence in the previous one.

Chemoembolization Followup

I had my chemoembolization on Tuesday, May 5 according to the calendar on this blog. The procedure itself was somewhat interesting for the little bit of it I remember. It was done in a room that seemed to be a cross between an operating room and a really slim and sporty MRI or CT machine. I don't remember all that much of it actually.

Staying the night in the hospital was kinda boring and I found the bed uncomfortable. It was an air mattress that made noise whenever I shifted weight, as some pump moved air to another part of the mattress. But I think it was permanently set to 'concrete' as a comfort level. I didn't choose to hit the pain meds all through that day, but when night came I hit it a couple times to help me sleep through the night. Most of my issue, to me at least, was the bed.

I left the hospital Wednesday and took it easy. This is pretty much indistinguishable from my routine except that I did not go to work. Thursday I tried to work from home, but only managed to do so for what I would bill as a half day. And again, I took it easy (whether or not anyone can tell the difference is another story).

Friday I went into work, but again managed about a half day. The thing that I started to recognize as my issue was perhaps a very bad case of acid indigestion. It was causing an upset stomach, but what I really felt was pain in my back and shoulder. Saturday night Ryan was returning, and Noel and Cathy also dropped in to visit. The whole time I could not sit still -- I was perpetually uncomfortable and kept changing seats or going to get something mostly for the sake of moving around.

On Sunday (I believe) I was talking to Dan on the phone and mentioned this, and he told me about the stuff he takes for a similar issue. I just happened to look over at my meds and found that I had "the cure" lying around. I'm not one to medicate myself if I don't feel "more than a little icky" -- so I stop taking some of the things I'm prescribed and tend to forget a little.

After taking the Prilosecs, or whatever, I had the return of the appetite. This may seem like nothing, but I really haven't had an appetite since the time before 1990. Suddenly, though, it came on full force and I was eating three times a day. In most recent years I wasn't able to do that for more than a day or two if I was really trying. For the moment, I'll try to take this as a good sign.

In fact, all-in-all I've been feeling rather perky the week or so. I've even needed a shave and some hair is coming back in on my head. The hair feels like a baby's hair, and I'm not sure if it's coming in dark or if it's gray. It's pretty good timing, though -- the hat I've been wearing was beginning to get a little warm now that we're crossing into summer.

And with the change to warmer weather, we've been doing some yardwork: getting the lawn mowed and raked (though I did poke myself removing the dethatcher blade and now apparently need to get a tetanus shot); Angie and the girls planted flowers. We're keeping busy with that sort of stuff.

Benefit

At Cathy's surprise 40th birthday party in March, several friends initially put together the idea of doing a benefit for me. I resisted at first -- I'm not the type who likes to ask for help, but I have since relented.

Noel asked me to provide some information for a flyer. I borrowed some material from this blog and gave Noel a copy to touch up. Here's what we'd come up with:
Benefit

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Brochures & Catalogs

I've stayed pretty hands-off on this. Angie and Noel and others have been doing the work. But since paper versions have been floating around the real world for a while now, I thought I'd also post it here.

Treatment Options

I've been asked more than a few times about considering treatment options somewhere else. I've looked into things a bit, and I believe both Dr. Amatruda and I are both open to suggestions. My sister Karen has looked into possibilities in the Seattle area for me. I passed this along to Dr. Amatruda who replied,

I dont know of any unique therapies available in Seattle. John Thompson is a melanoma oncologist out there who is excellent.

You may wish to see if he has anything of value for you. Let me know if I can help sort out any information, etc.

In the past week or so since I found out that the chemotherapy wasn't working, I haven't looked into the other options in detail. I've had some scans and prep for tomorrow's chemoembolization. Essentially, I believe, the attempt at a systemic treatment to halt progression and get rid of the tumors (the chemotherapy) failed. Right now the primary concern is to stop these tumors from progressing. The chemoembolization is another attempt in that regard.

Previously there was a research study or two that we've made attempts to pursue. One didn't pan out, and the other it was probably fortunate that I didn't make it into (I'm not 100% sure that this was the particular one).

I hadn't gone searching for the two studies above; Dr. Amatruda was looking into options and presented them to me. I've bounced by him some of the articles that turned up in my feed, but we've pursued other options.

And I still have IL-2 related possibilities -- such as clinical trials -- out there as an option. What we decide to pursue tends to be with regard to the most recent scans and my tumors' responses to the treatment. We are pretty much continually looking into new developments, even though many don't seem to fit my situation for one reason or another (like the Mayo study due to my A3A11-ness).

Bottom line: yes, we're open to any options. Evaluating, comparing, contrasting, and considering pros and cons tend to make for interesting little consultation sessions. So please, keep any ideas coming. I want to find something that works as much as anybody!

More Bad News

Time came once again this week for my CT scan and a visit with Dr. Amatruda. The days since Monday's scan went a bit like last time -- I didn't really want to get advance notice of the results, but it makes for a stressful couple of days.

And there was not much relief for me in hearing the result, which was the the tumors on the liver continue to progress. Which means that the chemotherapy isn't working.

We discussed the temozolomide, but Dr. Tom presented a new therapy: chemoembolization, which is a kind of interventional radiology (I'm told).

It doesn't sound like a great deal of fun, requiring a hospital stay of 2-3 days. And this treatment would alternate sides of the liver being treated at one month intervals. So I believe it might go like left-right-left-right over a 4-months span, with the hospital stay each time.

Bummer.


Both Angie and I could admit rather readily after we were home this evening that our gut feel, each of us, was that the other chemo was not working. So it wasn't the hugest surprise or shock. It is just very disappointing.


During the day, mostly before the consultation, I had much better little stories to try to put together for this entry: much more colorful things to say (in my opinion). I was going to start this entry the other day after the CT scan, but I didn't.

There was me goofin' on the nurses about my veins that had bled somewhat excessively the previous two scans. Or telling them stories of my days with 3M Brookings where they made some of the tapes being used on me.

I could almost squeak it out now, but I've felt a bit deflated since the consultation.


Since it seems I haven't completely hidden this blog away, and several folks on Facebook tell me that they read it, I'll probably just drop this there. And get Heather in the tub. And save a bit of writing for another night.