Not There Yet

Well, the distance around the corner is proving to be a bit longer than we thought. The newest development is a severe sore throat which may be due to thrush or just repeated coughing. I've never been able to relate to any of the physical things Dan goes through before, but this is one I can relate to from a case of severe mono from high school. All we can do at the moment is try anything that helps- popsicles, jello, smoothies.

We will also be getting bloodwork done today to check Dan's counts. The treatment makes him more susceptible to infections, etc because it knocks his immune system down. Hopefully they will be ok, and the sore throat will resolve with the thrush medication.

While observing this whole experience can be somewhat surreal for me, what is very real is Dan's determination to get well. Other than saying that his throat hurts, Dan never complains and is very focused on getting better. If we could bottle whatever unwordly determination he possesses to get through this- we'd be rich and cure cancer!

So we are hoping for two things- improved response to the side effects so Dan can play in his golf tournament and good weather for the tournament. So as you go along your way this week, if you wouldn't mind sending a few prayers for those two things, we'd appreciate it!

Turning the Corner

When does it occur? When do you turn the corner? When do you start feeling normal? That’s what I’m wondering these days. Every time I feel like I’m taking a step forward, I take the same step back. It’s tough. I know all you can do is rest & relax, drink lots of fluids, and hope for the best.

Last night, Meg made a wonderful grilled cheese and tomato soup. I think it was Meg’s first time at grilled cheese, or as she says since college. She’s showing a lot more of her domestic side these days and actually enjoying it. Grilled cheese - such an easy meal and now Meg’s favorite! Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep it down. As I said, you start to feel good in one area, but take a step back in another. So far so good on tonight’s dinner! Anyways, I’m looking forward to turning the corner. I know it won’t be long.

Back on Course

As we were driving home from chemo today, Dan and I were discussing that there are probably a lot of questions swirling out there about the change in treatment and our overall general life these days. When we heard waaaaaay back in June that we were going to have to switch treatments, we were all geared up for an immediate change to our lifestyle. And that didn't happen right away- we traveled and were more busy than ever. Perhaps we, along with those around us, were lulled into a sense that things weren't really going to change. I think for those that stay in touch by reading the blog, this is especially true because when we read, it's tough to gage the real tone or intentions sometimes.

As Dan wrote in his last blog, the decision was made to stop Tarceva (pill-based medicine) and move on to a more rigorous chemo treatment. The growth between the last scan two weeks ago and the prior scan in September was more than the doctors were comfortable with given the short time span. This, along with the return of the cough, left little doubt that it time to move on.

Dan will have 2 rounds of Avastin and Taxotere- the more traditional drip chemo that requires an IV. He had his first round today, and the next will probably be three weeks from today, assuming the schedule works out. Three weeks from the second treatment, right around Thanksgiving, he will have another scan to see if the treatment is working- meaning that the cancer is either stable or decreasing. This treatment regime is more severe than what he was on (Alimta) for almost 2 years. So, he may lose his hair and we will need to watch his blood counts more closely. I don't care about his hair- as long as he doesn't lose that smile that I love!

I know some people wonder why they can't just take the cancer out- I thought the same thing myself. Most likely, the could remove the spots on the liver. However, surgery alone wouldn't remove the underlying cause of the tumors which is why we need chemo. And as long as they aren't doing much damage, the tumors are actually helpful in seeing if the treatment is effective by monitoring their size.

As far as today- it really wasn't anything new. Dan has been at this on and off for almost 3 1/2 years, and I have been with him for all but one appointment in the past 15 months- we were on familiar ground with familiar faces. The treatment lasted about 3 hours, plus the normal time for bloodwork & processing. Aside from being a little tired, Dan is doing well, and we are waiting to see what side effects hit over the next few days- Dan hasn't been on these drugs before so we aren't sure what we are dealing with yet.

You may want to know what you can do for us- We don't need anything other than 100% positive focus & prayers for good results in 6 weeks, and that the side effects are manageable until then. As Dan said- things will have to get worse before they get better, so we are trying to prepare ourselves mentally for even more down time in the weeks to come.

Emotionally, you go through the wringer a bit before stepping back into treatment. There are a lot of thoughts that make their way into your day- most of them aren't ones that are easy to share.

A few weeks ago, I was reading the blog of a pastor dealing with cancer and was reminded of the story of Pandora's box (which I think was really a jug). You may remember that the myth explained the origin of women. When Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to the humans, Zeus enacted revenge. Zeus sculpted Pandora from clay and bestowed her with many wonderful traits- beauty, wit, cunning, charm, etc. He also gave her a jar and told her never to open it, and then shipped her off to Prometheus to marry. Prometheus didn't fall for it, but his brother did and married Pandora.

One of the traits Zeus granted Pandora was curiosity, and it eventually got the best of her. She opened the box and out flew hate, anger, jealousy, sickness, poverty and every awful thing in the world. You can imagine how horrified she was when she realized what she had done. Then she noticed one last little sprite struggling to get out of the jar. Deep down inside the hateful jar was the only thing that sustained humanity in its times of sorrow, pain and misery- hope.

I am sharing this story today, because it reminds me of two things. First- you have to get all of the negative out in times like this- they are in there and can be too much to hold back. And even though those are tough emotions to go through, hope will eventually sustain you. After all, it takes a lot of energy to deal with negativity and counter-act it. Second, it's much easier to hope for the best possible outcome. Even a little sprite like hope makes all the difference going up against the big guys.

As my mom said to me back when Dan was hospitalized at the end of April, when every single doctor (erroneously) told us the cancer had aggressively spread- there is nothing wrong with a little hope.

New Treatment

I talked to my doctor at the end of last week. We both agreed to move past Tarceva. On Tuesday, I'll be starting Avastin / Taxotere combo. It's traditional chemotherapy in the sense that it is given in iv form. I'll go once every three weeks. We may eventually switch to a Friday schedule, but we just wanted to get started for now.

As they say in sports, Tarceva just had my number. I don't regret my decision to try Tarceva twice because at the time it was the right thing to do. When we first went through the decisions to switch once we realized Alimta was no longer effective, my doctor had recommended Avastin and Taxotere combo. Both of these drugs I've never been on before. Even though they are new to me, they are commonly used therapies in the lung cancer world. Their toxicities or side effects shouldn't be too bad. I'm optimisitic about being able to tolerate it without too many complications. Let's just pray it's effective!

Switching Gears

Unfortunately, Dan's cough has become persisently worse. It's unclear what the cause is- possible infection? pneumonia? reaction to Tarceva? Whatever the cause, this week has been the first time in a long while that we've been living with the physical presence of cancer. It's no fun. It stinks. Not only is it tough to sleep more than a few hours, but it's even worse for Dan b/c he hasn't been able to do much but relax because the cough is so disruptive. As I write this, Dan is off to pick up more cough medicine. Hopefully it works well enough to get him back on a more normal schedule.

Next steps- back to the oncologist on Tuesday. Chances are, the treatment will change. But right now, we are more anxious to find some relief from the cough. On the plus side, it has given us a chance to try some new soup recipes since soup seems to help. So if anyone has any good ones, send them our way. On tap tonight- stuffed green pepper soup. And yes, I do cook!

Sorry we don't have better news- such is life sometimes in cancer world. At least we get 2 installments of the Biggest Loser this week! So we'll be hunkered down tonight with Loser and the finale of Project Runway and soup!- not too bad.

In case you're wondering, Dan is picking Jerrell to take Runway. Note that his pre-season picks were booted off the show in the first 3 weeks. My pick- Kenley- made it all the way to the finale. Dan's TV picks are usually about as good as his football picks- and he was out of his football pool in week 4.

Rocky

We went to the Philadelphia Eagles vs. Washington Redskins game on Sunday. It was good to see my sister, brother-in-law, and nieces. Although the Eagles lost, the game was exciting and the weather was perfect.

The thing that sticks out most in mind, however, was during a timeout. Sylvester Stallone, or Rocky Balboa, came onto the jumbotron. With his hands taped and cut-off shirt looking like he just beat the Russian for the 2nd time, he said, “It’s not how many times you get knocked down, but how many times you get back up.”

This couldn’t be more true regarding life with cancer. The very nature of chemotherapy is to knock you down. To beat the crap out of you. To bring you to submission in hopes of killing off the bad cells. Emotionally, cancer does the same thing. It knocks you down. The emotional toll is a lot, not just on me, but on my family, friends, and even more so for Meg. No one or nothing can prepare you for it. You get knocked down again and again. You just have to keep getting back up.

More on the Marathon

So Dan “borrowed” my cancer-is-a-marathon-not-a-sprint analogy in his last post (what- did you think he comes up with these things all on his own?)… here is my point of view…

My whole life, I’ve been kind of a slacker. For those that know me, you may wonder how I can be serious about that comment. But I am a total slacker. I look at other people who actually make long term goals and work towards them in total awe. For me, the challenge in life has always been about figuring out how to do things and then, just exactly how long it will take to get them done. I joke that this is just fabulous time management, but really it’s just laziness or a form of ADD.

While my college roommates studied consistently throughout the semester, I would do almost nothing if I wasn’t graded on it. Then, two days prior to an exam, I would shift into turbo-drive and lock myself away until appearing at the test sleep-deprived & running on Mountain Dew and Hot Tamales. Usually it worked out pretty well. I even implemented this tactic while studying for my CPA (passed), getting through business school (passed) & completing projects at work (still here- for now!).

I’ve always been slightly irritated at myself for developing these habits. I think it started young when I somehow developed a massive hatred of running unless it was during a game. Unless I could score a goal or knock someone down, I had no interest in the actual training part of sports. Unbelievable for someone who played soccer year-round for 12 years. I still think that I could have been a much better player, student & worker if I’d developed a consistent approach to working towards a goal.

When Dan and I agreed that we were both indifferent about the last visit with the doctor, it wasn’t meant to suggest we’re also ambivalent. Rather, I think we’re now always busy preparing for the next thing. Prior to the Tuesday’s appointment, I would twist myself all up in a bunch trying to mentally prepare for whatever news was to come my way- if it was bad, I’d try to think of what questions I would need to ask or what I’d immediately need to re-arrange at work or in life. But on Tuesday, I found myself taking it more in-stride than before. Maybe it’s because we haven’t had much good news yet, so I’m becoming de-sensitized to things. But I think it’s more that we have to keep focusing on always moving forward, even if it’s at a slow pace, to really beat it.

This is a real challenge for me… long range planning. But I also think it’s the first time in life I’ve been truly committed to something 100%. Even if Dan was pronounced NED (no evidence of disease) tomorrow, it would not mean the end of our fight. There is so much work to be done, both for Dan’s continued health and for the overall war against cancer. It’s a marathon, and one race that I think I’ll actually stick with this time. Sure, there will be times when we "hit the wall", but that is when we can lean on each other to push through.