Time to Feed the Meter

If you put coins in an old-fashioned parking meter, you get some time. Then after a while the time starts to run out, and to maintain your parking spot you have to put in more coins.

This is my new metaphor for mesothelioma treatment: you apply a treatment (coins), and you get some time. Mesothelioma has a nasty way of coming back, though, so after a while you have to apply another treatment. And then another.

Which is the long way of saying that my PET scan last week contained bad news: the big tumor at the base of my lung is revving up. The challenge now is to choose the treatment. So far the top contenders are surgery and proton beam therapy. I saw the proton beam specialist yesterday, and he was pretty confident that they can kill the tumor. I'll see the surgeon next week and see what he says. I am inclined to go for the noninvasive option, but we'll see what the surgeon says. Hopefully whichever treatment I go with will buy me lots of time. 

Meanwhile, it's rose season in the garden, so not all the news is bad.

I love red roses.

Scans Beget Scans

I had a CT scan last week, and the results were mostly good, where good means the tumors are not growing. But the main tumor just might be a little denser than it was before, so I'm being sent for a PET scan to see if it's becoming more active. It seems there's always something to worry about with mesothelioma. And lots of scans.

I told my doctor that I have to be well enough to travel to England in late June, as I'm scheduled to speak at the Grapholinguistics in the 21st Century conference in Reading. He says the CT scan results are no threat to that plan, so I have gone ahead and bought my ticket. I'm very much looking forward to the conference!

Meanwhile, it's hard to tell if the acupuncture is doing anything or not. If it is, it's pretty subtle. My oncologist says that that's what most of his patients find if they try it, while a few get more dramatic results. At the very least, it isn't doing any harm. 

It's been a little over a year since I finished chemo. In celebration I harvested the first kumquat from the little kumquat tree I bought as my first chemo plant. I cut it in half so Anand and I could share it. It was good, with a surprisingly sweet rind.

My first kumquat

Acupuncture

I've just started to get acupuncture in the hope that it will help me fight nausea and low energy levels. I've learned that cancer centers often offer acupuncture as part of an integrative approach to treating the whole patient. It does not in any way replace conventional therapies, but it can help with side effects and symptom relief. 

So I'm giving it a try. Nothing earth-shattering has happened so far, after two sessions, but I may be feeling a little better. We'll see how it goes. Even if it only has placebo value, that would be useful.

Meanwhile, spring is advancing. The temperatures have been strange, though: unseasonably hot for a few days and then much, much colder. Today we're expecting near record-breaking heat, while next Monday is predicted to be 35° F (19° C) cooler.

I do love spring, though. It's the season of recovery and hope.

Spring is advancing.

The Attention of Important People

They say that an ancient Chinese curse states, "May you come to the attention of important people." At first glance it looks like a blessing, but it turns out to be a curse.

I can't help thinking about this supposed curse as I navigate the healthcare system. Things get done much more quickly and attentively when you have a cancer diagnosis and have thereby gained the attention of medical specialists. But there's a risk in that, as I recently experienced.

My most recent scan raised a question entirely unrelated to my mesothelioma. That finding led to a search for a kidney stone or other potential blockage (like a tumor), which in turn led to a painful week with a stent inside of me, followed by another painful day after the removal of the stent. It all turned out to be a wild goose chase: there was in fact no blockage. If I had had any idea how painful the whole process would be, I would have refused the testing and waited either to develop symptoms or for my next scan to show whether it was going to be an ongoing finding or not. But the important people said I should do it just in case, and I was all too aware that my body can malfunction in significant ways. At least the episode is now over!

In cheerier news, spring is coming on quickly. I do love spring!

Happy Spring!

Atlanta

Thanks to everyone who has written with news! It's been great to hear from you.

I returned on Sunday from a trip to see Gita and her two cats in Atlanta. (One of the cats, Circe, is in the picture.) I've missed all three of them since they went home last May.

Cat and mouse

We had a fairly quiet but pleasant week. It was already getting warm in Atlanta, so Gita and I planted potatoes, peas, and Swiss chard. We also went to a sale at a second-hand book store at which we got to fill a large canvas bag full of books for only $20. Then on Saturday some of her friends came over for tea.

Unfortunately, things went badly on the way home. We didn't take into account the partial government shutdown, so I didn't realize that the security line would be over an hour long. (I later realized there's a way to check for that online, but it was too late by then.) After a very anxious hour and a dash for the airport train and the gate, I missed my flight by a whisker. They rebooked me, but through Kansas City, which got me home six hours after I was originally scheduled to arrive. 

So it all worked out in the end, but meanwhile I spent a long time feeling anxious, weak, and vulnerable. I still feel much the worse for the stress and fatigue of it all, and I am not at all sure I am up to any more traveling. For now, I am going to stay home!

Boring

It's official: I've become boring. Not only does my condition still seem to be stable, but I have no further medical appointments, tests, or infusions until mid-March. 

What to do with my copious spare time? I've taken on the reupholstery of an antique chair and (less productively, but pleasantly) done some jigsaw puzzles with Anand of an evening. I'm also planning a trip to see Gita. 

Getting inside an antique chair

An activity for quiet evenings

The notable thing that's missing from my activities is you. Enough about me! How are you? What is going on in your life? Write and let me know!

One Year On, Stable

Today is the first anniversary of my first cancer treatment, and on this symbolic day I am very relieved to be able to say that the CT scan I had this past Thursday shows stable disease and even some shrinkage compared to my last CT in August.

It's a little more complicated that that, though. First my CT scan had to be postponed from Monday to Thursday because of the snow we had on Sunday (pictured). Then the radiologist who read the CT images enumerated a whole list of little tumors in addition to the main mass—little tumors that I thought had disappeared, as they had not been mentioned on my last CT report. So this was a bit of a good news/bad news situation. Good news: your tumors are stable or smaller. Bad news: you have more tumors than you thought you did. My oncologist reassured me yesterday that the little ones are not active anymore (as per the PET scan last time), so while the news of seven extra tumors is a little off-putting, it is not in fact the bad news that it feels like.

The snow plow came on Wednesday.

Going to get a CT scan is a three-step process. First I go to the oncology office on the fourth floor to get my port accessed. Then I go down to the radiology office on the first floor, where they say, "You have a port? Wonderful! That makes it so much easier." I lie on a bench for a few minutes while they inject me with a contrast medium (though my port) and run me through the machine. Then I go back to the oncology office to have my port de-accessed. 

I was sitting in the office waiting to get my port accessed on Thursday when a woman from the billing side of the oncology practice pulled me aside. There had been a mistake regarding my health insurance, she explained, and an erroneous bill had been sent out. "Don't worry," she assured me, "you don't owe the $54,000. Your balance is actually $0. " Yikes! A good thing I wasn't there about my heart.