A Dozen Pounds of Trouble (Chemotherapy #40)

My wife, youngest son JH and I had a lovely vacation to Cook Forest, PA more than a week ago, and I will talk more about that later; but in the last couple days of vacation and while visiting my parents and sister on the way home, my abdomen kept growing noticeably larger while my skin felt very tight and uncomfortable, especially after eating or drinking. I began eating a couple very small meals a day and though my weight was not changing, my abdomen was looking very distended. A weeklong back pain set in and I could not find a comfortable position for sleep because it was painful to sleep on either side, and sleeping on my back was killing me; I just stared at the ceiling and shifted my weight, while my cat Elsie circled me, slept under my armpit, cozied up to me, and I think she was worried. That, or perhaps she was just opportunistically getting all the pets of a lifetime from this poor insomniac sucker who was clearly awake to pay attention to her and nothing much else.

Putting on a happy face and secretly hoping I haven’t been impregnated by Alien triplets

I wondered aloud to my wife how anyone could deal with a huge belly, constant back pain, high blood pressure, a stomach that can hold only a handful of food, nausea, pelvic floor pressure, and skin that was stretched as tight as a drum, FOR AN ENTIRE WEEK — and she shot me a strange, sympathetic look, picked up on my implication and said, “I’m sure cancer is much worse than pregnancy.” It was very sweet of her to say, but after four pregnancies with the same symptoms for the better part of a year, and where her abdomen was also being violently kicked, I cannot even imagine being able to survive. I felt very guilty about complaining in her presence because of that. Don’t get me wrong, I still complained, I just felt guilty about it.

July 30: New Scan and Not Great News

I contacted my oncologist with my symptoms and they immediately moved up my next CT scan and lab blood work from August 11 to the next morning, July 30. The scan analysis was full of troubling news. First, an epicardiophrenic lymph node has grown to 8mm from the usual sort of 3mm size and is an indicator of advanced cancer metastasis to a location between the diaphragm and the bottom of the heart. The scan also found two tumors in my left lung, 6mm in the upper lung and 7mm in the lower lung, and one 5mm tumor in the lower right lung, and a number of smaller tumors forming. Liver tumors have grown to 2.6cm from 2.1cm and to 3.0cm from 2.6cm. There are new tumors in the omentum.

The best news was that my platelets are now 117, and anything above 100 qualifies me to get on the waiting list for two different studies of promising new drugs that target my tumor’s KRAS mutation. There is a study in Virginia of a similar drug that may be approved by the FDA next year, as its preliminary data is very promising (but many other people are trying desperately to get into that study).

In the meantime, I have decided to step back to the FOLFIRI+BEV intravenous chemotherapy, which has some of the worst side effects to endure, but when I was on it a year ago it seemed to do the best job of arresting the tumor growth. It can buy me time to get into a study with a better drug. It wouldn’t be the sort of time I would spend cheerfully doing cartwheels in rolling fields of daisies; it would be more like a protracted battle with constant tummyaches and explosive diarrhea, but at this point any time I can spend with family and friends is precious to me.

So the chemo infusions were scheduled for a week later on August 6. I did not think I was going to make it until then because of the pressure and pain of the abdominal swelling and ascites — it felt like I was going to burst like Mr. Creosote after a wafer-thin mint (DO NOT Google this if you don’t know what it is!).

They checked out my abdomen, heartbeat, and breathing, and noted no bowel sounds so I was instructed to take a couple Colace each day to keep things moving. Then I was scheduled for a paracentesis procedure at the radiology center on Monday August 5th. In this procedure they poke a needle and tube through your abdomen and peritoneal sac to drain off the fluid, which is called ascites. This fluid can accumulate in your abdomen due to liver failure, cancer, heart failure, or pancreatitis to name only a few. I asked if it was easier than a liver biopsy and my oncologist assured me it was much, much easier to tolerate. I didn’t really care though, at this point I would endure just about anything for one night of comfortable rest.

The weekend of waiting was difficult. I drank very little, ate very little, and that kept me at a comfortable level of fullness, but the dehydration caused me a lot of foot and leg cramps. I got spiking high blood pressures, tachycardia and some chest pressure, so I took an extra metoprolol as my cardiologist advised me to do with the previous chemo regimen spiking my blood pressure. There was so much pressure on my pelvic floor that all my functions down there had no idea what was going on, it was awful. The weekend was a write-off because I sat uncomfortably in a recliner for several days. And I had so much stuff I wanted to do. So frustrating and disappointing!

August 5: The Paracentesis

I’m not just putting on a happy face here — I am absolutely THRILLED to get impaled by a needle at this point.

I’d like to say I woke up on Monday with a spring in my step, excited to get this procedure over with — and I was, but the truth is I didn’t wake up that morning, I was already awake because I barely got more than an hour of sleep the night before.

We went to the radiology clinic and nurse Robert was the most amazing guy ever. He was instantly likeable, put me at ease in seconds, answered a handful of my pressing worries, and filled me in on every detail of the procedure. No surprises like in my liver biopsy. I leaped up on the bed like a golden retriever getting treats, tail wagging! I really enjoyed chatting with the nurse and asking him questions about his military service. Such a great guy! Although I wish I never had to go through this again, I look forward to maybe seeing him again, probably in a few more weeks, sadly.

The doctor came and introduced himself, and they filled a syringe with a concerning dose of lidocaine and then buffered it with sodium bicarbonate to make it burn less. The doctor used an ultrasound with VERY cold gel to find just the right spot to go in, then cleaned the whole area with chlorhexidine. Another double-check with the ultrasound, and he warned me there would be about ten seconds of burning as the lidocaine was introduced. Honestly, I barely even felt the stick of the needle because he was injecting as he went and numbing it all very well. All I felt was a deep disturbing pressure, a little pause, and then a much more intense, deeper feeling, and the doctor said, “All done!”

I asked, “so now we do the tube?”

“Nope, it’s in there already!” he replied, and they hooked up a liter bottle to the tube and the draining began. It was a sort of cranberry sort of color and was filling the bottle at a fair clip, so they pinched off the tube after one liter and attached another bottle. When that bottle was about halfway full, my back pain melted away and vanished. It was the kind of miracle you ring up the Vatican and let them know about. After half the third bottle was full, I no longer had pain on the sides of my abdomen above the belt line.

In this way, FIVE LITERS got removed, though you have to leave some in there or your body rebounds and just refills it, so it wasn’t the full amount. They withdrew the tube, patched me up and in a few minutes I was on my way home, feeling so much lighter and I could see my shoes again!!

Feeling great after losing 12 lbs of fluid in less than an hour! Personal trainers HATE this trick!

I still have some discomfort as the puncture area heals, and I can’t immerse myself in water or take a bath for 10 days, but what a tiny price to pay for feeling so much better!! I was pretty absolutely wiped out with fatigue though, and immediately took a “nap” that involved many hours of catching up on sleep. I gained a little bit of appetite and had one cheese enchilada for my only meal of the day. My weight was 183.5lbs afterward, and 195.3lbs the day before.

August 6: Chemotherapy Round #40

It was another full day at the cancer center, starting with the lab work that showed my platelets are up to 125. I had an oncology visit afterwards where I had to make the call as to whether I wanted to go through with the chemotherapy, and sign consent forms. The pharmacy was slow that day so we spent a lot of time in the infusion clinic waiting room. Finally we got a beautiful room with a big window, where we could watch the darkening sky and then the deluge of rain from the edges of storm Debby. Nurse Isabel was so accommodating and friendly, and brought me a heated blanket to keep warm. My wife even got a recliner she could rest in, and I think we both took a few naps while the infusion went forward.

Back to listening to my Chemotherapy Playlist in the infusion clinic

The first part of the infusion is the administration of pre-meds Zofran and Decadron so I don’t decorate the infusion clinic with my stomach contents during the infusion. After a 30-minute wait, I got a little bump of Atropine and then the first chemotherapy drug, Irinotecan, was infused over more than an hour. This is the drug people call “I run to the can” and they are NOT kidding about that very apropos moniker.

Next was the Bevacizumab, it’s an immune system booster to help your system identify cancer cells and eliminate them, particularly that annoying metastasizing circulating cancer that ends up complicating things by spreading the love throughout your system.

When that was finished, I was hooked up to the 5-Fluouroracil football pump, which stays in a bag around my neck for the next 46 hours. I have to be home on Thursday for it to be unplugged from my port, my port flushed with saline and heparin, and then I am free!

After that, I hadn’t eaten all day and the only thing my stomach was craving was cheese and broccoli soup for some weird reason, so we picked some up with a soup & sandwich deal at… where else? Potbelly sandwich shop. I devoured the soup and less enthusiastically ate the sandwich. My stomach is still quite small so it’s still unpleasant to eat.

Now I’m editing this blog post after midnight because the steroids are keeping me from sleeping. ALL I WANT IS SOME FREAKING GOOD SLEEP. PLEEEEEASE!!!

July 20: Cook Forest Vacation

And now for something more pleasant and fun. I went with my wife and youngest son JH to Cook Forest PA for a week. We do this pretty much every year, and it’s a lovely time to join my mother-in-law Grandma K’s siblings for an annual family reunion. The forest itself is a state park and it seems to repel cell phone signals, so the vacation is always a nice time to be unplugged for a little while.

After weeks of triple-digit temperatures from hell back home in the Carolinas, it was such a relief to find days between 70 and 78 degrees, and cool nights.

We left town after work on Friday, though we left a bit late owing to a torrential downpour and thunderstorm that prevented us from packing the stuff into the car unless we wanted it all to be soaking wet.

I had a fantasy of visiting the Horseshoe Curve near Altoona on Saturday on the way to Cook Forest, but we ended up leaving a bit too late and hitting too much traffic to get there on time. Instead the GPS took us up quite a lot of backroads and straight through Punxsutawny PA. It’s such a cute town with statues of groundhogs everywhere, including a Wendy’s groundhog:

There is a Statue of Liberty groundhog, and too many to mention:

We stopped at the town square on Main Street and posed for the camera:

Posing at the town square in Punxsutawney PA

Some hours later we got to our hotel in Clarion. It’s probably cheaper than a cabin in the forest and has air conditioning and free breakfast! I liked this hotel, it was very nice and had an indoor pool:

Our hotel in Clarion

We were hungry for dinner and went to the main street of Clarion PA at dusk:

Main Street, Clarion PA, at dusk.

We found ourselves at the Clarion River Brewing Company and had a wonderful meal there. I had a roasted tomato soup and the Cuban sandwich, with honey ham, pulled pork, swiss cheese, dill pickles, and Heidelberg mustard on sourdough bread, very tasty! JH had the Cajun Chicken Alfredo, and my wife had the Fire-Grilled Salmon and salad.

I conned my wife into getting a flight of four beers so I could have a little taste of each one. We had the Yeastie Boys, Horse Thief, The One That Got Away, and Ginger? I Pearly Know Her. She loved the Pear Ginger Cider and the Hefewiezen, I was more partial to the nitro stout and the English Mild. I was quite sad I am not able to have more than a taste of the beers, what with my liver tumors, but it was a nice treat to have that taste.

The Clarion River Brewing Company list of available brews.

Later that week, in Cook Forest my wife and son went on a horseback trail ride. It is beautiful in the forest because the canopy on the old-growth trees is high, there is a lot of shade on the trails, and there are beautiful ferns and mosses growing on the forest floor.

In the meantime, I kicked back in some rocking chairs on the lovely porch at the horse farm office, and did a little reading. I admired the pragmatic way the office roof was framed, locally milled wood of varying lengths were put to use in sections according to length and there were odd corners that stuck out, like someone either didn’t want to cut the rafters or didn’t want to waste any wood. And of course a poster of John Wayne stared out from the window. I’ve never been a big fan of self-professed white supremacist, racist John Wayne and his awful comments about native Americans being greedy and not wanting to “share” their land with settlers. It’s not called sharing when you displace people, march them to their deaths and steal what is theirs at gunpoint.

I think that a little brotherhood of mankind, love, the actual teachings of Christ (as distinct from the moral code of so-called ‘Christians’), sharing, mutual teaching, storytelling, trade, and understanding would have worked just fine… but again and again in history, we are lazy and take a simplistic, monolithic view of a tribe, or a religion, or a race and all its people get painted with the same brush. To avoid that, we have to understand all of the individual people and their stories, their choices and motivations and that is hard work. No one ever said that loving our fellow man was easy. It is easier to jump to the conclusion that the violence a lone person causes becomes the political position of every single person who is like our enemy. And suddenly, we have transformed one enemy into thousands, or hundreds of thousands, or millions.

It struck me as ironic that this sign was nailed to the wall next to the office with John Wayne. It says, “Turn in your weapons. The government will take care of you.”

I think it isn’t good for our hearts to hate everyone of a particular race, or gender, or orientation, or national origin, or religion. I have a song in my chemo playlist called Manifesto by Nahko Bear and Medicine for the People, and I often recite the chorus in my prayers when world events make me angry:

Don’t waste your hate
Rather, gather and create
Be of service, be a sensible person
Use your words and don’t be nervous
You can do this, you’ve got purpose
Find your medicine and use it

We joined the family later in the evening at the Cook Forest Fun Park, there is a pavilion there that the families that rent cabins there can use, so we gather there for nice potluck dinners. I made a couple things for various days like some yummy guacamole, and pimento cheese from scratch. We brought some pies for dessert.

The Fun Park has a mini-golf course, water slides, and go-carts and is located just outside of the Cook Forest State Park.
Dinners are served buffet-style and there is an unbelievable amount of food contributed, it is like Thanksgiving in July!
The newest addition to the family, only two months old, little M being held by cousin K and her daughter G.

One of the most delightful surprises of the trip was getting to see the newest baby in the family! Her parents flew all the way from the western United States with a 2-month-old to dazzle us with her charm and adorable cuteness. She was held and loved on almost constantly during her visit. Little M’s is a miracle baby and very lucky indeed since her parents are incredibly delightful, warm and intelligent and I just know she will be the same way — so many generations of wonderful people led up to this amazing new person!

Campfire songs at the pavilion after dinner, one of the most special treats as Uncle J has a phenomenal repertoire of great songs in his head and everyone sings along!

The Abandoned Clarion Railroad Tunnel

I like to keep my eyes open for interesting abandoned places, and noticed some months ago that there was one located not far from our hotel, south of Clarion PA. It’s not really easy to find but quite rewarding when you do. We set out one morning and parked at a trailhead nearby, then hiked down to where the old railroad trestles were located. Finding the tunnel should just be lining up the trestles and following a straight line, right?

Piney Trail Head Parking Area

We found the first stone pier in the woods, and apparently Spider-Man climbed up there with a spray can. How do these graffiti artists climb so well?

After crossing the river and scrambling up a hill, you can see the trestle piers all lined up and pointing the way. When you turn 180 degrees and look into the woods, you catch your first glimpse of the abandoned tunnel!

The concrete structure that surrounds and supports the opening of tunnels had long since collapsed and left rubble everywhere. There are perhaps 10 feet of rock and dirt covering the original rail bed.

One interesting thing in the picture above is that the long exposure captured the dripping water and made these three creepy-looking vertical water columns at the left side of the tunnel. They look like ghost lights flying up to the ceiling. The brickwork supporting the tunnel is impressive.

When you get to the brickwork you look down about 10 feet to a water-filled rail bed and if you have a set of Wellington boots or the like, you can trek all the way down and check out the rotting trestle on the other side that goes over the Clarion River.

Looking out from the tunnel at JH and the old rail bed.

Me and JH posing in front of the tunnel
There is a concrete retaining wall by the road that essentially marks the spot

We left the Clarion tunnel and took some gravel backroads looking to see if we could catch a glimpse of the old wooden trestle from the road. The woods were just too thick to see through, I think you would have to hike down there from the other side or kayak down the river to see it.

We ran into this amusing collection of signs on our way to our next stop, Tionesta. My wife’s great-grandfather lived for a small time in that town, and it has a couple of interesting sights to check out.

Funny Roadside Signs. “Good food / lousy parking” and “Too hot to keep changing sign. Sin bad. Jesus good.”

The Nebraska Bridge

On the way to Tionesta PA, we stopped at a bridge that is often partially underwater during rainstorms and high water. The water was low so it didn’t look as cool, but it is a fine bridge nonetheless, built sturdily enough to resist years and years of high water.

The town of Nebraska, Pennsylvania came into being in 1827, and in 1848 the town was named as Ford and Lacy Mills or Lacytown. In 1855 a post office was established and the town was named Nebraska. The town had stores, lumbering mills, black smiths, churches, hotels, and other homesteads. All which were torn down in 1940 when the Tionesta dam was built and the valley was flooded. 

Here we’re approaching the Nebraska Bridge. There is a boat ramp to the left of it, and the old town of Nebraska was off to the right.

You can barely see, but in the distance is a fawn with half a tail, slogging through the mudbank. The helpful fisherman on the bridge told us he’s seen a couple like this, that coyotes try and grab them when they’re sleeping and the lucky ones only lose a tail.

The friendly fisherman left soon after we arrived; it didn’t look like he had any luck except for a little conversation.

Here I’m posing on the bridge with JH. I’m starting to develop a bigger tummy by this time, and it isn’t just the Hershey’s White House Cherry ice cream scoop I ate at the Cook Forest Fun park the day before. Cherry ice cream is my favorite! I think. Maybe any ice cream is my favorite. I’m not sure. A lot of times when I’m staring out into space and someone asks me what I’m thinking about, I almost always say, “ice cream!”

The Ersatz Lighthouse Park in Tionesta PA

I wanted to visit Tionesta mostly out of puzzled curiosity, in order to answer the question: why is there a lighthouse on an island in the Allegheny River? The river couldn’t hold a craft larger than a Jon boat or a pontoon boat at best, and there aren’t any dangerous rocks to wreck your vessels on. And so here it is, the Sherman Memorial Lighthouse:

A plaque to the left gives you the skinny on the lighthouse. Groundbreaking was on April 24, 2003. It is owned by the J. Jack and Grace Sherman Family. It was built as a beneficial landmark for the Tionesta community and to serve as a place to preserve the heritage of the Sherman family. The lighthouse is one of four in Pennsylvania. The other three are on Lake Erie (where it might actually make sense to have them). The lighthouse is 75ft high and 16ft in diameter. It consists of six floors and a basement. It has 76 steps spiraling up its center. The rotating light was installed November 10, 2004. The lighthouse was struck by lightning on August 26, 2003. The lantern room is 24 feet tall to the top. At the time of it’s [sic] commemoration on September 17, 2006, it displayed 280 replica lighthouses.

Lighthouse Island has a replica Statue of Liberty and it is chock full of patriotic decorations, sculptures, statues, and the like. There is even a chapel where we contemplated getting married again, all the while guarded over by a huge bald eagle sculpture:

Unfortunately, the door was not actually a functioning door, just a sort of model door that didn’t open. A short walk revealed that they were doing some yard work that day and had left the side door open, so I went to check it out. I expected a “here is the chapel, here is the steeple, open the side door and see all the people” sort of situation but instead noticed this:

The Chapel is just someone’s very ornamental tool shed. I think I could get behind a religion devoted to tools, so this is OK. Next I rang the Freedom bell. It was a very loud, solid bell for a tiny little lighthouse island, but that could be really handy for calling everyone off the river the next time a hurricane pulls up to Lighthouse Island.

Next up was the Freedom Memorial, dedicated to the loving memory of Fallen Hero. I liked how there was a bench for each branch of the armed forces: army, navy, air force, marines. No mention of the Space Force, but they could add two more benches, one for the Space Force and one for the Coast Guard I think. That would be cool.

After a nice walk around the island we were getting hungry for lunch so we went to see if Tionesta had any places to catch a lunch. It was pretty sparse except for a pizza place, which is pretty high carb so we skipped that. But the main street of Tionesta had a cute little art park where vendors had about a dozen little shops to sell their wares. See if you can find the sasquatch in the next photo:

We drove a dozen miles out of town and saw on Google Maps there was a restaurant bar called the Seldom Inn Restaurant. Sadly, it seemed as though the staff were, in fact, seldom in, because it was closed.

Instead, we had lunch at the Trail’s End Restaurant in Cooksburg PA. It was a nice homey, family-run restaurant with friendly staff — except for the ominous little sign in the entryway warning you that they are conservative Republicans and if you don’t like what you hear you can kiss their ass and go someplace else. I paraphrase, but I caught their meaning. Everything’s cool… I’m secure in my manhood.

I had a prime rib sandwich but was beginning to notice my stomach couldn’t hold more than half a meal, and my belly was starting to really get poochy and tight. I hadn’t realized yet what a trouble that would be…

Anyway, it was a little amusing that by the end of the meal some of the owners’ friends and family members showed up and hung out in the kitchen doorway discussing Biden dropping out of the presidential race, among other topics, and I felt like the shocking entryway sign was a fine way of keeping the peace with the customers.

Looking for some Wild Elk in Benezette PA (Elk County)

After 6 days in Cook Forest we left on Friday morning to meander down to Virginia to visit my parents and sister. I was hoping to see that horseshoe curve near Altoona but we got a little sidetracked looking for Elk in Benezette PA. On the way there we passed through the town of Weedville, PA, population 565, which had a little post office:

In addition to a post office, there was The Church of Cannabis Sativa and the Camp Sweetleaf store of locally sourced cannabis products and gifts. Ohhhhhh, WEEDVILLE. I get it!

We were looking for a place called Woodring Farm in Benezette but there was a big visitor center and we stopped to check it out. There was a big Elk Festival setting up for the weekend. One vendor was selling hickory syrup. I’ve heard of maple syrup but hickory syrup? Cool. He didn’t have any stock set up yet, or a way to sell it a day early so I never got to try any. In any case, we poked around the museum area and saw the lovely elk in the photo below.

Spoiler alert: this was the only Elk we saw in Elk County. We did see turkeys, a deer, and a snake so that was exciting. It was still a neat detour and hike, because the visitor center told us how to get to Woodring Farm:

Woodring Farm Sign

The visitor center also had signs warning hikers to keep their eyes peeled for rattlesnakes. Yikes! So my eyes caught this little guy peeking out of the grass. He was cute. I’m no expert at nope ropes, so I can’t tell you what kind of snake he was, just that I kept my distance.

Snake peeking out at Woodring Farm Benezette PA

One of the stops on the hiking trail was an apple orchard, where some lucky photographer hit the Elk jackpot:

There was a little platform where you could sit and watch the lovely hills all day. Simply beautiful:

Virginia and Back Home Again

We used up all the time hiking so I never got to see the Horseshoe Curve, but we made it to Virginia in time to have dinner with my parents, sister, and brother-in-law JD at my favorite restaurant, Kilroy’s. I barely got to the halfway point on my dinner and couldn’t finish getting down more than half of my drink. This was the first of my mostly-sleepless nights, and the start of my back pain being a constant 24/7 thing, so to let my wife sleep I went upstairs and rested in my dad’s recliner, unable to sleep. At about 2am my father came out to check on me. But since he didn’t have his hearing aids in, and neither of us knows sign language, he went back to bed just as mystified as when he left it.

On Saturday we had a nice visit with the family and after watching the southbound I-95 traffic on Waze, all the accidents seemed to clear up around 6pm and we left for home. I stopped eating on Saturday, except for a little grazing on food here and there, because I’d figured out my tummy was much more tolerable.

So we’re all caught up… the next day I went to my paracentesis and here we are! Thanks for making it all the way to the end!!!

Running Short on Options (Chemotherapy #39)

It has been such a long time since I have written an update to the blog. When last I wrote, I was about to leave for the big Amtrak Zephyr trip and trust me, I will post about that trip. It was absolutely wonderful. I have been organizing and editing photos and writing text in between so all the non-TLDR types can spend time sharing in it. I am so grateful that I was able to have that experience and it was all I ever hoped for and more! I am so grateful to everyone who made it possible, and not a day goes by that I don’t think back on it, or talk about it with people. Even almost three months later it continues to bring me smiles and joy.

And right now it is good to have a bucket of smiles and joy that I can draw from when I need it. Despite keeping up my usual optimistic cheer, some cracks are beginning to form in the hopefulness foundation. My general day-to-day attitude is sunny though, and full of gratefulness at each new day that dawns. The darker bits of my odd sense of humor bleed through sometimes, but I don’t like the worry that crosses people’s faces so I try to scale it back a bit.

Medically, the journey grows ever more discouraging. I had a CT scan on June 18 to assess the progress of the most recent chemotherapy drug, Fruzaqla. I started taking Fruzaqla the week after the Zephyr trip, on April 23, and it was only recently approved by the FDA in November 2023. The main goal of the drug can’t be classified as any sort of miracle cure; it is the sort of drug developed to try and arrest or slow down the growth of Stage IV cancer. For many people it gives you some additional months of time. Despite its modest objective, it is by far the most expensive drug of them all, costing about $1,000 per day it is taken. I took it for 21 days, had 7 days off, then took it for 21 more days. Then we did the CT scan to see if it had any appreciable effect.

At first my oncologist said there were a few millimeters of growth in the index tumors that we are watching the most closely, so it sounded like the chemotherapy was doing its job and we decided to continue with the drug despite its horrible side effects.

And the side effects were indeed horrible. A few days into taking the drug I got very sick with a wet, productive cough and fever. I was given tests for COVID and the flu, and thankfully it was neither of those things, possibly just a side effect of the drug or an infection my poor struggling immune system couldn’t keep ahead of. I was instructed to hold off on taking the chemo and see if things improved. On day 4 of being sick I was coughing up tons of gunk to the point that my throat, nose, ribs and core muscles were burning with pain, I was getting constantly dehydrated from a full-scale revolution going on in my GI tract, and I got so weak I couldn’t get myself out of my recliner without falling backwards back into the chair. I realized with a dread seriousness on Sunday night, that I was not going to survive whatever this was without extreme measures.

On Monday morning, I woke up resolved to call 911 and go to the hospital. My oncologist’s PA called me at that very moment and we chatted about how dire things were, and she put me on a regimen of two different antibiotics. I was hydrating like crazy and I was feeling some improvement as quickly as six hours after taking the antibiotics. I weighed myself, and had lost 16 pounds. A couple more days and I was feeling more like my usual self, and we bravely restarted the chemotherapy and watched carefully. After finishing the antibiotics, I realized I had a weird aversion to meat: the thought of eating pork, beef, lamb, and chicken just didn’t appeal to me. It didn’t make me want to throw up, it just didn’t seem like food that human beings should be eating. This completely gutted my keto diet. The course of antibiotics also left me with what seemed like a complete inability to retain and digest food. About an hour after eating everything just went right through me. I ate a lot of yogurt, drank kefir, took probiotics, and fell back to something like a BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast), but since those are entirely carbohydrates I took to eating bland foods with fiber. I had bread–which after being on a keto diet was just nasty–high fiber fruits like raspberries and blueberries, nuts, cauliflower and broccoli–sans brussels sprouts, which also did not appeal to me–and fats like cottage cheese, cheddar, goat cheese, parmesan slices, sour cream (yes, eaten with a spoon). I also had eggs for protein, since my GI system thankfully declared eggs as nihil obstat — so, deviled eggs without spice, french omelettes, hard-boiled eggs, and ajitsuke tamago.

The first big side effect of Fruzaqla is that I almost immediately lost my voice. I ended up with a fragile, quiet, hoarse sort of goose-speak that stayed with me until the day after I stopped taking the chemo for my 7-day rest period. The most horrible side effect was that my blood pressure went up from 112/62 to 178/96 and gave me headaches that felt like I was going to have a stroke at any moment. I started having chest pains, like an invisible finger was being pressed against my ribs quite hard. I grew sensitive to bright light (which still hasn’t completely abated), so whenever I went outside or was exposed to bright lighting I developed a pain in the gooey gel of my eyeballs that was intolerable and distracting because I could hardly think about anything else. I was also more fatigued than usual, and more fatigued than I ever remember being: after only a couple hours of sitting up in my chair, I often involuntarily fell asleep for a half hour or so, and after coming home from work I often slept for hours in the recliner, only to wake up refreshed and unable to sleep again for a few hours. Also after supporting my upper body in my chair at work, after a few hours my lower ribs and core muscles ached like I had just run ten miles. My liver transitioned to causing me almost constant low-level pain and discomfort. My feet grew very painful and I picked up some opportunistic infections that made it very painful to walk, especially up and down stairs.

And finally right after my anniversary, on May 23 I got a 7-day break from the chemo and I suddenly had energy! My core pain, foot pain, muscle aches, and fatigue mostly went away! It started to become quite obvious which [quite tolerable] symptoms were probably the cancer and which [horrible annoying] symptoms were the chemo. I decided on May 28th that this was the worst chemo of all of them. Worse even than irinotecan? Maybe. You see, the difference between being loaded up to bursting with a bag of IV chemo that felt like a caustic river of poison and a tiny one-a-day chemo pill is that at least with the bolus of chemo you suffer but every day afterwards is better. The Fruzaqla was quite the opposite: every day worse than the one before, and you find yourself eyeing day 21 on the calendar and wondering if you can make it. It’s a sword of Damocles sort of situation because you feel like any day that single strand of horse hair might break and you will suffer a sudden and fatal blow.

Luckily after a consult with my cardiologist, my heart medications were adjusted to help my blood pressure come down to not an especially good level, but enough to improve the headaches and feeling like a stroke was imminent. This enabled me to soldier on and take a second round of Fruzaqla and though it wasn’t at all pretty, I got through it.

The Actual CT Scan Results

So a couple days after the June 18 CT scan and doctor’s visit where we decided to continue a couple more cycles and follow up with another CT scan, I was able to access the CT scan analysis report on the MyChart application and I was a little shocked at what I was reading. And what I was reading was not particularly good.

First of all, my carcinoembryonic antigen (CEA) levels were now at 288.5. If you plan on living to retirement age, you had best hope that the level is under 2.5. This is almost doubled from the level on May 7.

A couple tumors in my liver increased in size. A tumor in the left hepatic lobe grew from 22m to 26 mm, and one in the posterior right hepatic lobe grew from 15mm to 21 mm. In the photos below, it looks alarmingly as though there are new tumors present but they represent small tumors that were evident in higher or lower slices and have grown into the slice you see.

The tumor on my peritoneum is probably the biggest concern as it can begin to leak lymphatic fluid into my abdomen, which would need to be drained if it got to be a large amount. The peritoneal tumor increased in size from 12mm to 21mm, which is a substantial 75% increase in diameter.

In my last visit with the oncologist a couple weeks ago, I told him I felt the chemo wasn’t working well enough to justify the unpleasant and potentially dangerous side effects. My liver is quite overstressed at this point, my bilirubin levels are increasing, my blood platelets are going down, and my liver numbers are going up. He agreed with this decision and we discontinued the Fruzaqla chemotherapy. That is the last FDA-approved treatment available to me, unless we want to pursue dusting off some decades-old IV chemotherapies that aren’t likely to help much.

It’s discouraging news, but for some reason it hasn’t gotten me down like I thought it would. It’s lit a little fire under me to make sure I get some legal affairs in order, but emotionally I feel pretty solid. I’m going to keep on driving:

Good News, X-Men… I’m a Mutant!

Or at least, my cancer is. But this is how good comic book origin stories get started!

My tumors have been genetically sequenced a couple times a year so that the most effective therapies can be prioritized. That testing found that I have a mutation called KRAS. Cancer cells with KRAS mutations are fairly resistant to chemotherapy and immunotherapy, and they grow aggressively. For my type of cancer, the median survival rate of people with KRAS mutations is about 2 years. I’m currently at almost 3 years, which is pretty respectable.

There are two promising studies of competing drugs that target the KRAS mutation and use it to deliver targeted chemotherapy to any cells presenting KRAS. In order for me to be considered for the study, my platelets need to be above 100. When I took my 7-day break from the last round of Fruzaqla my platelets were 44. Two weeks ago they were 67. If my platelet levels can bounce back, I may be eligible to try this experimental drug. This is another reason why I’ve decided to stop taking chemotherapy at this time.

Apparently it’s tricky to get those platelets produced: rest and exercise help, but eating leafy greens and iron-rich foods helps. Also the same kinds of meats I’ve had an aversion to lately, I’m learning to choke down. Also liver! Hmm.

So let’s cross our fingers and hope Plan B works out!

In the meantime, I’m taking advantage of having energy again and trying to venture out and enjoy life. I have been so fatigued the last few months from the chemotherapy, that I haven’t left home on exciting trips in a while. I’ve been doing fun things around home when I have the energy. Here’s the sort of stuff I’ve been up to:

Northern Virginia and Richmond

I went with my oldest and youngest sons to Virginia to visit my parents and sister. We had great food and chilled out for the weekend. It was nice to just unplug and relax. I’m always so stressed on weekends because I don’t feel like I have so many of them left, so I have a big checklist of things I’m trying to accomplish. But for months I haven’t had the energy to check off a lot of those items and it disappoints me. But being surrounded by family, love, and stories makes me forget everything and just live in the moment, which is also good for me.

Mom, Dad and Both Kids together like old times

I guess that a new part of our family ritual is that we talk about all our medical problems, and everyone has got them. I probably wasn’t paying attention to this because I never noticed it when I was a kid, but it seems like a lot of gab by people over 50 is spent sharing doctor experiences and medical horror stories. I don’t remember us ever talking so darned much about poop! Well, except when I was a toddler. We come into this world as babies needing careful care and toilet training, then we live, love, and dance around for a few decades and then we need careful care and toilet training again… and THAT is the circle of life I think.

I got to help with technical issues on my sister’s quilting machine. Pictured above is a seriously cool piece of hardware for stitching the whole quilt together with the backing and all the layers. We did all this while dinner was cooking, and what a great dinner it was! We called it “suitcase salmon” because my sister brought a bunch of frozen wild-caught salmon home from Alaska on a recent flight and it was sort of funny to think of all that fishy cargo. Don’t knock it though, it was incredible salmon:

Delicious Wild-Caught Alaskan Suitcase Salmon

We also got to meet my sister’s new kitten, Princess Daisy Moonbeam G. She was so adorable, we all covered her in welcoming kisses and attention.

Princess Daisy Moonbeam G.

I got to have lunch and dinner with my friend Bick in Richmond to celebrate my birthday, and we had Cuban roast pork for lunch and NY Strip Steak for dinner as I try to get back on track with my keto diet. He gave me his old matched pair of 27″ gaming monitors which are awesome in my secret lab as I slowly go blind. It’s nice not having to squint so much at the tiny letters.

Happy Birthday to Me

My birthday was spread out over several days this year, which is a nice indulgence I don’t normally experience. But on my birthday itself, my oldest son IG took us out to one of my favorite restaurants, Bua Thai, where his best friend makes the desserts. It was a great dinner and I ate way, way, too much and went home and fell asleep.

My darling wonderful wife made me a keto cake inspired by the legendary Raspberry Zinger. It had whipped cream frosting flavored by powdered freeze-dried raspberries and Stevia. The following cake is one that she made, but I realized we demolished her birthday cake before anyone thought to photograph it so… the cake pictured is an appropriate placeholder:

Due to work schedules, we couldn’t include our middle child JJ in the Bua Thai dinner so the next night we celebrated a birthday make-up dinner at El Rodeo Mexican Restaurant. My wife had two medium margaritas and I had a little taste which was delicious but much sweeter than I remember. It turned out that two margaritas was a little bit much because my wife knocked over her glass of water while emptying leftovers into a carryout container and it was directed mostly at our oldest son IG who was left with a shocking ice-cold crotch water bath. His horrified expression was priceless. I ended up tipping extra because it took several people to clean up the mess and I felt bad. One of them picked up on the fact that it was my birthday (you should NEVER say that word in a Mexican restaurant!!!), and I got the embarrassing Sombrero moist-feliz-cumpleaños treatment since by that time my pants were also kind of wet. Fun times!

June 29 Beach Trip!

I went to Ocean Isle Beach with some of the kids and we stayed in my sister and brother-in-law’s beach house. I made a little project out of fixing the deadbolt strike plate, which was actually just a lockset plate which creates problems. It fits fine in the winter months but with wood expansion from the heat of the summer, the deadbolt doesn’t line up correctly and the place can’t be properly locked. I didn’t think to bring tools but I found a sale on a cool cordless craftsman drill for $50 and with some chisel work and drilling, I got a new strike plate to fit correctly.

We went in separate cars so I was able to wander around alone. I hit some crazy traffic going to the nearest beach so I went up to Sunset Beach instead and walked around for an hour before the 90-plus degree heat seemed about to kill me. I went to Boundary House and got a bowl of their awesome clam chowder, and wandered through tourist shops. I went to Ocean Isle Beach later when it was dark and cooler (82 degrees!). I was able to walk into the water which felt heavenly on my poor abused, neuropathic feet. I probably looked like an idiot standing in one place with a blissful smile on my face, not moving anywhere; but I didn’t care. I’m going to do me.

On Sunday we packed up and went to Myrtle Beach, then headed home from there. I ran out of energy at Benson NC and slept a couple of hours at a rest stop on the way home. My fatigue isn’t as bad as when I was on the chemo, but it is still there and when I’m out of energy I am completely spent.

June 16: Father’s Day!

For Father’s day we went to a Durham Bulls game with my father-in-law, my oldest son IG and my youngest JH, and nephews AZ and WZ. Getting tickets was tricky since the park was nearly sold out and finding 5 together was not possible so I got one lone ticket a few seats away. But happily there were some no-shows next to us and we were able to all sit together.

Sadly the Bulls didn’t win but we had great seats under cover from the sun and there was a cool breeze making everyone more comfortable. My father-in-law is a huge baseball fan and it is fun to listen to baseball stories and trivia. He always wears his Detroit Tigers cap that IG got for him, and the Detroit “D” logo could be taken for a Durham “D”, so it’s kind of a double-fan service.

May 28: A Day Trip to Hillsborough NC

Hillsborough is only a dozen miles away from Durham, but having an extra day off on Memorial Day weekend, we thought we would take a day trip down. We have already visited Ayr Mount a couple of years ago. It’s a beautiful house built in 1815, and I highly recommend going on the tour.

This time since I had just finished round 39 of chemo and was starting to get my sunshine back, my wife suggested we do a nice flat hike around the Occoneechee Speedway Trail. It meanders over to one of the first NASCAR tracks, which now sits overgrown and abandoned, but is a beautiful flat walk. And it ‘s really only a little hike from Ayr Mount, if you don’t mind fording a river and some wild underbrush.

The old track is still there as a trail, and you can still see it curves up on one side. It is comforting to me to see nature reclaim a place that had been utterly cleared of trees. I fervently dislike humanity’s destruction of wild spaces and habitats, and these kinds of abandoned places leave me with such misanthropic pleasure. I’m not a fan of humanity but all the individual people I meet, I love so much. I’m never sure how to square that in my head.

Posing with my lovely wife on a bench and realizing the race is never going to start.

There are a couple rusted out cars still present. There’s something sad about those lost old vehicles. Once they moved under their own power and had all the freedom of the roads to look forward to. Then something breaks and people gave up on fixing them, and they just fell in the battle with time.

It comforts me to know that the fate of all civilizations is to be reclaimed and covered in ivy and forest. All the cacophony and frenetic activity will be replaced by peace and the haunting buzz of cicadas. Niiiice.

Next we went to Spencer’s Tavern in town. It’s attached to a little in called the Colonial Inn that’s finishing its renovations and looking very handsome indeed. It has a menu full of lovely southern comfort food dishes prepared expertly and creatively. I had Fried Green Tomatoes and Deviled Eggs, and a hot Ham & Cheese sandwich. One of the old members of the Squirrel Nut Zippers was at the table next to us!!!

After a fantastic lunch we went to the Orange County Historical Museum which was small but quite interesting. I learned that Mazda used to make light bulbs!

And I found an amazing desk and a sign I want on my office door at work:

I also saw this cool old radio that was preserved in excellent condition, with two owners before it was donated to the museum. It is believed to be the first residential radio in Chapel Hill in the 1920s.

My wife got tired walking around before I did, which is highly unusual these days. But I did drag her to the cemetery to find the grave of someone who is quite possibly one of my relatives, William Hooper, who was a signer of the Declaration of Independence.

May 25: Durham Bulls Game

It was my second Bulls game this year out of three so far, and we went with my son IG’s coworkers. We were able to bring my father-in-law along as well and we all had a wonderful time. There were fireworks after the game, which was loud but exciting. One really nice thing about having an expiration date on your life is that you can embrace all the cool things you couldn’t do to your ears before like go to concerts with no earplugs, playing headphones at max volume, and pumping your music in the car so loud that the windows bulge. Oh yeah!

We got a visit from the Bulls’ awesome and beloved mascot, Wool E. Bull.

May 23: Pool League

I am still able on most weeks, to play at least one match of pool every Thursday night and I have been improving greatly, holding my own as a rank 5 player. I have even begun winning some 9-ball games! I wonder if I can get to a rank 5 in 9-ball as well! We have an incredible team and I hope that we make the playoffs this season, there are a couple more weeks to go and we are playing pretty well. We took this selfie on my phone because my wife realized she didn’t have any photos of me at pool league:

30th Anniversary!

Our anniversary began with a trip to the lab and to the oncologist. I headed to work and after work we celebrated our anniversary with a dinner at one of our favorite date spots, Parizade, which has incredible mediterranean dishes.

It’s been thirty wonderful years of marriage to the most delightful, witty, patient, resilient, and beautiful lady I’ve ever known. Life together is full of joy, laughter, and thought-provoking discussions. Even life’s little curveballs are easier to handle as a team.

That pretty much catches us up except for the Zephyr trip, which I am continuing to document. A week of travel is a difficult thing to get time to narrate and post. Stay tuned!

A Friend from Halfway Around the World (Chemotherapy #29)

I got a surprise message from one of my oldest friends, M.S.S. I don’t mean that he’s aged, just that we became friends a long, long time ago when I was 11 and he was 10. I had just moved to California and even though all the cliques were already solidly formed, he was super friendly and always eager to make me feel welcome.

Growing up as an Army brat, we moved a lot. I often got in big trouble when I was very young, and I also managed to get my friends in trouble as well. A lot of innocent people followed my lead and we all ended up getting into hot water because of it. I was pretty self-focused and I realized that my best friends were always the people who honestly pointed out the qualities I had that really irritated them, and the ways they wished I could improve. And each time I moved, I would resolve to stop being the person who hurt my friends. What a special opportunity it was to move and meet all new people who didn’t know all my faults and shortcomings. I would just pretend I was a person who didn’t have those faults, and before long they were gone (or lessened), and I felt better about who I was with each big upheaval of a move to another place.

My friend M. was very understated. I don’t remember him ever getting angry with me or lecturing me about my faults. Instead, he led by way of example. He was a bright light in the darkness. I still got him into trouble from time to time, but he had such a warm and caring heart that I really wanted to be like that. And somehow it started a ball rolling that changed me forever. I was also really impatient, and I often would marvel at how serene he was even when frustrated.

So it was very special to get a message from him, and even more special to read the contents: before being deployed overseas, he wanted to fly halfway across the world for a visit. I was overjoyed! I was also pretty humbled that someone would make me the goal of such a long journey.

It had been about ten years since I saw him last, so I was eager to catch up. I picked him up at the airport and we caught up at my house for a while. He found a nice local hotel and arranged to stay there. I felt bad not being able to put him up in luxury but with 5 people in my house and 4 bedrooms, the best accommodation I have to offer is a couch or an easy chair, and those come with two psychotic cats who are hell-bent on rubbing their butts in your face all night long. The kids could give up one of their rooms but it would take a couple weeks of purification rituals to make that a clean and tidy, viable guest room option. Sigh.

On Monday we met my friend H. for lunch at Taco Addicts, one of our favorite taco spots. I love their choriqueso and tacos al pastor, but on my low-carb diet, tortillas were off the menu until I discovered La Banderita’s zero-net-carb street tacos… what a life saver! Anyway, I couldn’t have the choriqueso with carb-y tortilla chips but I wanted M. to try it, and he asked the server if they could make chicharrones, and they were perfect with choriqueso. So now that’s an order I make every time. I also found out that M. eats low carb/keto as well, so it made choosing places to eat and dishes that much easier.

I took him to the Sarah P. Duke Gardens on the campus of Duke University. It’s a place where I like to go to de-stress and unwind, surrounded by many beautiful places.

You can’t really come to North Carolina and not visit The Angus Barn, so at the suggestion of my good friend L., I took him to a nice dinner there. They were so accommodating of our dietary limitations, and even made my Caesar salad without croutons! Swoon! I had a 22oz steak (so I would have some leftovers for breakfast), that still makes my knees weak when I think about it.

I took my friend M. to the Turkish restaurant that me and my lunch bunch friends meet at every Wednesday, and we had an excellent meal and my friends really enjoyed visiting with him. It’s rare in general that I have a friend that my other friends get along with. My lunch bunch friends are a good exception to that rule, though, they are very gracious, welcoming, and full of hospitality. Classy folks!

On Tuesday, M. took me to the cancer center for my chemotherapy and met my oncologist, and hung out with me in the infusion clinic. My wife’s job had a staffing crisis due to the death of a beloved co-worker and it was convenient that M. could take me instead. He expertly drove my electric Smart car and I found out he has a Nissan Leaf at home. We just have so many interesting parallels in our lives, like twins separated at… well, age 12 and 13 I guess.

Getting chemo with my old friend

We went for dinner at another of my favorite spots, Guglhupf, and ate outdoors on the terrace. Even though I’m often suffering from an unsettled stomach after getting chemotherapy, this time I was spared the side-effect and felt just fine having dinner. My tummy warned me not to over-do it, so I tried to respect that reminder.

And before too long, it was time to take M. back to the airport for his trip home. His flight to the west coast was on a commercial airline and fairly easy to schedule, but traveling the rest of the way home on military flights sounds like a bit of a dance and orchestration so I felt bad that his journey home would have a lot of stops and long waits. I deeply appreciate the dedication and perspiration it took to make it all the way to my city for a visit. It was worth the world to me though, and I had a long period of comfort and happiness afterward. What an amazing gift of his calming presence! I felt such peace, like everything is going to be okay. Really I can’t thank him enough!

The Forest and the Chemo that Wasn’t

I tolerated my birthday chemotherapy very well, hardly suffering any side effects except some intensely burning poops the following Friday and Saturday as the chemo comes through my system. The steroid dexamethasone I took with the chemo tends to keep me up all night and screw up my blood sugars, but this time I did fall asleep and got about 5 hours of sleep before waking up. And with the low-carb diet my blood sugars are not as much of a problem, though they do peak up to about 123 — nothing like the 300s I was getting on a regular diet. Also the steroid gives me the worst crash about a day after I stop taking it. And because the side effects have been so low-key, I skipped taking Wednesday and Thursday’s dose. It made Wednesday pretty rough… I was so tired on my commute home from work that I had to focus intently or else fall asleep behind the wheel.

I took Friday off work to prepare for our summer vacation trip to Cook Forest PA. This year the entire family was going, which is exceptionally hard to make happen with everyone’s school and job commitments. The plan was to leave as soon as my wife got off work, maybe about 3pm. I puttered around and gathered our stuff together, consulted and revised my previous checklists, and prepared our minivan for the trip with an oil change and all fluids topped up. I found out at the last minute that my middle kid didn’t get off work until 7pm, so our new time of departure was around 8pm. It would be a late night drive to my sister’s house in the DC area. We were able to leave around 8pm and arrive a bit after midnight. Luckily no one else was crazy enough to drive to DC so late, and we didn’t encounter any significant traffic.

We stopped at an observation area in Maryland. Our middle kid wanted to stay in the car.

We spent the night at my sister’s place, my parents came over, and we all had a leisurely amazing keto breakfast. My sister made a great keto breakfast casserole that didn’t have potatoes in it; I have to make a mental note to get the recipe from her. Around lunchtime we departed for Cook Forest which is five hours by car if you don’t stop. Though we stopped in Altoona PA, about the halfway point, and had lunch at a Chili’s. It had been some time since we’d been to that restaurant chain, and the food was good, the service was incredibly friendly, and everyone left satisfied.

Lovely welcoming Altoona, thanks for a relaxing lunch!

We made it to Cook Forest in time for a great dinner at the cabin Aunt D. rented for the week, where we got to meet dozens of Grandma K’s family members we had not seen in at least a year. The neat thing about Aunt D.’s cabin was that it was the only place in Cook Forest that had a cellular signal. After dinner and fairly late at night, we checked into our hotel, some of us had a shower and got refreshed, and that was our Saturday.

Aunt D.’s Cabin in Cook Forest PA

The rest of the week we relaxed at Grandma K and Grandpa J’s cabin. I prepared keto-friendly side dishes that week like a Turkish-inspired salad with cherry tomatoes, feta, kalamata olives, red onions, cucumbers, parsley, balsamic vinegar and high-quality olive oil. I made some goat cheese guacamole a different night, and a sort of cole slaw but the mustard I had on hand was kind of spicy and it made the dish a bit weird.

Cruising down the Clarion River in perfect weather.

We had trips down the Clarion river in canoes and kayaks rented from the Pale Whale in Cooksburg, we hiked around the beautiful old-growth forest, and my middle child J. helped me deep-clean grandpa’s grill for the big rib dinner he always puts together one of the nights.

Our youngest son by a fallen tree in the beautiful forest.
Beautiful rays of sun made visible by smoke

I went along as co-pilot on a trip with Grandpa J. to fetch his 89-year-old sister, Sister J., in Cleveland to bring her back to our vacation. She is a Catholic nun who taught college physics in Cleveland for many years. Throughout the trip, I was exceptionally worried about the state of his right front brakes, which were starting to grind down the rotor and make noise every time he stopped or slowed down, and the Cook Forest roads are hilly and winding, and brakes are a good thing to have in those kind of situations. Plus, the highway department was blocking off lanes and pouring new asphalt, as evidenced by these mysterious signs:

Is it just my love of Mexican food, or does this sign promise some deliciousness ahead?

We made it to Cleveland, and Sister J’s friend, Sister P., made us a fantastic cold lunch of salad, cold cuts, cheese and bread. We had a couple hours of good conversation where I learned that Sister J. didn’t have much of a plan for how to get home. She said that Harriet Tubman often left her plans in the hands of God, and somehow she would get home too. It turned out in the end, after a lot of tricky back-and-forth phone messages from a region with virtually no cellphone coverage, that a friend came, picked her up in Clarion PA and brought her back to Cleveland on Sunday.

Luckily we found Sister J. in Cleveland, so this sign was on point.

We had a nice trip back from Cleveland with the brakes squealing on turns now, very concerning. But it was wonderful to chat with Sister J., and listen to her and her brother Grandpa J. reminisce and tell stories. We got back to Cook Forest in time to have a wonderful salmon dinner at Aunt G.’s cabin, and we brought along enough supplies for the kids to make smores around the campfire. I learned that the whole annual Cook Forest vacation and celebration is due to Sister J.’s suggestion, decades ago, that people meet there as a middle ground. It is handy that relatives and friends from New York City, New Jersey, Virginia, North Carolina, California, and Maryland (to name a few), can converge there and spend time together every year.

My wife and Sister J. by the campfire

The next day was preparation day for the Big Rib Dinner. It took all day to prepare, peel membrane off the ribs, marinate them, par-boil them, and I cut tons of garlic, ginger, and did anything else that was handed to me to do. Grandpa J. was under a lot of stress and worry, and prepared more ribs than ever before, so even with the support he was in a frenzy to get it all done. Then we heard there would be some very bad weather around dinnertime, so we went to the picnic shelter at Cook Forest Fun Park for dinner and pretty much the moment we stopped eating, a huge storm blew in with powerful winds and blew much of our stuff away, then deluged us with heavy, heavy rain. We had to abandon ship and leave a lot of stuff in the shelter and retrieve it early the next morning.

Congregating in the shelter before the storm.

After all the chaos, Grandpa J. announced this was the last year he was doing the rib dinner. I hope he changes his mind and just makes a smaller batch; we had leftover ribs for days (which is not a terrible fate).

At the cabin in Cook Forest, back row: Grandpa J., our fourth child J.H., Sister J., second child I.G., third child J.J., front row: my lovely wife, Grandma K, and little ol’ me.

Somehow on the way home, the bare-metal whining brake pad on Grandpa J.’s car got so thin it slipped out of the caliper and vanished into the night, making braking very difficult and treacherous. We had to find a local garage that was available to do the job. We went to Aunt D.’s cabin to use the internet and found a shop in Sigel PA that ordered the parts from my description of the problem and model of the car, and was able to quickly install new pads and a new rotor and get the car back on the road before the trip home. Thank goodness that worked out!

I have to make a side paragraph about this, but the people in Clarion, Cook Forest, and vicinity are incredibly nice and welcoming. Time and time again I was blown away by their friendliness and helpfulness, just a bunch of outstanding people.

So we drove back to DC on Saturday and stopped again in Altoona, this time at a famous spot called Al’s Tavern, which is well-known for its chicken wings.

We visited Al’s Tavern in Altoona for a late lunch. Fantastic!

We stayed the night again at my sister’s house and got to visit her and my parents a bit more than on the trip north. We had a fantastic huge spread of taco dinner with zero-net-carb La Banderita Street Taco tortillas, and my blood sugar didn’t spike at all. My sister takes such good care of me and everyone she loves, and I am eternally grateful.

The Chemo That Wasn’t

We got home in time for me to get my port accessed for lab tests and chemotherapy. My CEA was up a tiny bit, 7%, to 5.9. It’s not as bad as a year ago, when it was doubling every couple of weeks, and we just had a good 33% drop in CEA, so I was only a bit concerned about the increase.

CEA Levels

My HgbA1c was 5.7. My cholesterol was 152: LDL 41, HDL 34 and Triglycerides 465. I’m still losing weight and my fat cells are releasing tryglycerides into my bloodstream, so that explains the high value there. My white blood cell count was very low at 2.0×10^9/L (normal low is 3.0), my platelets were 57×10^9/L (normal low is 150). My neutrophil count was 1.0×10^9/L (normal low is 2.0). As such, my oncologist determined we should skip chemo this time and give my body a chance to rebuild its defenses. We also discussed whether we should go to 3 week cycles, as I have read on the internet that a lot of people doing low carb diet plus chemotherapy, are able to tolerate chemo better and live much longer on a 3-week cycle. We will move to that soon after the next CT scan results, if things look favorable for that.

I can’t complain at all about not having chemo, I was a little worried that my CEA was going to increase a lot without it. As much as you hate chemotherapy and its side effects, it is a warm comfortable blanket where at least you’re doing something to hold down the cancer, and being without it is stressful.

So from July 25 until August 8, I am free as a bird to enjoy life, get more exercise steps in, and build myself back up for the next round!

Rest and Recharge (Chemotherapy #28)

I haven’t posted to the blog in a very long while because WordPress automatically upgraded to version 6.3 and I seemed to have lost everything.  I got into the FTP site and the database site and confirmed all the files were still there, and the databases and attachments intact, so I didn’t panic but I also didn’t have time to deal with the problem.  Life has been incredibly busy lately (maybe too busy), so for the first time in my life I think, I engaged the MyTime support team at Network Solutions (my hosting provider), who I essentially have been paying to do nothing for several months, and after a couple back-and-forths and near-successes, today they finally got the site back up and working.  I am so grateful since I don’t know all that much about WordPress and have been too busy wrapping up my life to deal with those details right now.  At least since the last blog disaster, I have my site backing up every day so not much would be lost.

Sending much love and gratefulness to Network Solutions!  Thanks!!

Chemo #28 was scheduled on my birthday and the day before that our company gave us a Global Recharge Day off work.  Woot!  So I decided to make an overnight trip to Beaufort NC to visit the NC Maritime Museum there.  There are three Maritime Museums in North Carolina, one in Beaufort, one in Southport, and one at Hatteras.  One of my goals is to visit them all and peruse the exhibits completely at my leisure, without people asking when we’re going to leave or telling me they’re bored.

Model of the Queen Anne’s Revenge

The big draw of the museum for me was the preserved artifacts from the wreck of Blackbeard’s Queen Anne’s Revenge, which is located in about 25 feet of water off Fort Macon near Atlantic Beach and the Beaufort Inlet.

Fort Macon NC
Fort Macon

The museum was very nice, and had some amazing artifacts including an unbroken wine glass, tons of cannons, cannonballs, powder, bells, weights and scales, tools, and the like.  There was also a lot of information and artifacts of Otway Burns, who was a privateer in the War of 1812.  Earlier I had seen his grave in the cemetery and it has a big cannon on it, so you couldn’t really miss it:

Privateer Otway Burns’ Grave

Also in the graveyard was the burial site of a little girl who died on the Atlantic crossing, and was placed in an empty rum barrel and buried on arrival.  People leave little gifts and toys for her.

Grave of the Girl in the Rum Barrel

Upon leaving the Maritime Museum, there is a cute little garden next door that is maintained by the town’s master gardeners.

A beautiful garden by the museum

For many years, Beaufort was a center of a menhaden fishery operation.  People in town say that it stank for many years until the menhaden ran dry and the processing plants closed down.  The plants made fish oil and fertilizer that was shipped inland on trains.  In the center of town near the museum there is a beautiful monument to the Menhaden.

The Menhaden Monument

Also in town is a monument to Michael John Smith, and the local airport is also named for him.  He was the pilot of the Space Shuttle Challenger and died in the explosion.

Michael John Smith Monument

I stopped in to play a couple games of pool at the Royal James Cafe and the locals were having a 9-ball tournament I was too chicken to play in, mostly because the tables were simply awful.  I wasn’t brave enough to tackle the menu as I wasn’t much in the mood for bar food that day.

The Royal James Cafe (and Pool Hall)
The locals playing a 9-ball tournament

I stayed in the Beaufort Hotel, which was once the site of a fish processing plant.  Everyone in town seems very happy to have the fish plant replaced with a posh hotel.  I got to swim in the pool and enjoyed wearing their plush bathrobe and slippers.  I had a wonderful night’s sleep, the best I can remember in a long time.  For breakfast the next morning, they made all kinds of keto substitutions for me like adding goat cheese and avocado to my breakfast of crab cakes with poached egg and Hollandaise sauce, and they gave me a complimentary cheesecake dessert for my birthday.  Cheesecake is not on the low-carb menu, but I didn’t have a lot of it and it was my birthday weekend after all.  The Beaufort Hotel treats you like royalty, it was exceptionally nice.

The Lobby of the Beaufort Hotel

Driving around Beaufort, it was hard not to fall in love with the tidy houses with cedar planking, and the trees were incredibly shady and delightfully crooked.  The whole town is like something out of a movie, it was not too crowded with tourists and the locals were exceptionally friendly.

The tree-covered Front Street

On the road I had lunch at the famous King’s Barbeque, though in the market side and not the restaurant side.  Just incredible barbeque, in a cute historic setting.  It was the best!

I’m still working out how to make good selfies.  I look really goofy in this photo at King’s Barbeque.

My Birthday Chemotherapy

The next day I woke up for my lab appointment, oncologist visit and chemotherapy infusion.  Chemo #28!  This cycle, my carcinoembryonic Antigen (CEA) levels were down 33%!  This is a miraculous reduction!  What a wonderful birthday present!  I think the low carb is working.  There is one curious thing I learned later from my eye doctor, Dr. Silver.  She said that I should try adding doxycycline for 10-day stretches alternated with vitamin C.  Just by a weird coincidence, I had a skin infection more than a week before my birthday and my primary care providers gave me 10 days of doxycycline to deal with it.  Before or after this, I have never had such a dramatic reduction in CEA with chemotherapy.  Previous reductions were through radical surgery, ablation, or radiation killing tumors outright.  An interesting coincidence?!

A graph of my CEA results over the last couple years.

My lab results came back fairly positive.  My white blood cell count was low at 2.2×10^9/L (3.2 is the low target), platelets were 105×10^9/L (150 is the low target), Hemoglobin was 13.6 g/dL (13.7 is the low target), Neutrophils were low at 1.2×10^9/L (2.0 is the low target), otherwise OK. 

My oncologist is quite upset at my weight loss.  I am expected to stay around 204 lbs and I was at 185.  He told me to “liberalize” my diet.

So we proceeded with the FOLFIRI+BEV regimen (irinotecan, 5-fluouroracil, and bevacizumab).  The infusion was pretty easy, a bit of cramping during infusion but  we finished and I went home with the 5-FU chemo football.

I woke up in the middle of the night and had no nausea whatsoever.  This is very common now since I moved to the low-carb diet.  In fact, I didn’t have many terrible side-effects at all except fatigue on Wednesday after the dexamethasone wore off, and I needed 20-minute afternoon naps on Thursday and Friday.

The next day my wife presented me with an amazing keto birthday cake inspired by Raspberry Zingers (my favorite!), and made of almond flour, splenda, lots of butter and egg.  It had a splenda-sweetened whipped cream frosting with dehydrated raspberries powdered in a blender, and a few raspberries on top.  It was incredible.  I think she is the only person in North Carolina who can make such amazing Keto confections.

My wife made me this amazing Keto birthday cake!

A day later I visited my endocrinologist.  Dr. Becker looked at my lab results and announced that with an HgbA1C of 5.7, and an average blood glucose on my Freestyle Libre of 94, I am no longer diabetic and he took me off my Jardiance medicine.  It only really helps when your blood sugar goes above 150 — it helps your kidneys pee out the excess blood sugar and as it has a slight diuretic effect, it may be causing me to lose more weight on the low carb diet than I should be losing.  Since it costs my insurance about $600 a month, this is nice to get rid of.  He wrote me a prescription for glimeperide 4mg in case I need it, 2mg in the morning and 2mg at night, it should help me keep blood sugars down and gain weight or at least not lose it.  It is an old reliable generic drug and costs only a couple of dollars a month.

I also visited the nutritionist at our work Health Center and after listening to my problems with low carb/keto, she announced I was the first person EVER to ask her how to gain weight on Keto.  She recommended bile salts to assist where my removed gall bladder once perfectly allowed me to digest fats, and recommended adding nuts like walnuts and pecans to get a few more calories and nutrients.

I was glad that Chemotherapy #28 went so well, and that I felt great by the weekend, because next we went on a week-long family vacation to Cook Forest PA. But more on that in a later posting!

Independence Day (Chemotherapy #27)

I had a different sort of independence day today. It was a day of being independent from being needed or useful. I apologize to the friends and family who wanted to see or hear from me today, it just wasn’t going to be possible. The last few days have been incredibly stressful and I can’t even point to a coherent reason why. Things have just been too much, and I just don’t have any energy left, and worrying about anything just gives me a headache.

I haven’t been sleeping well. I have had vacations to plan, rooms to book, things to prepare, things to fix, things to sort and things to sell, stuff I need to get done but can’t find the time to do, emails to respond to, text messages, bills, car registrations, and dirty dishes to name a just a few of the stressors.

I’m also in a sort of limbo land between my last CT scan and the next one in mid-August. I’m anxious to know whether my diet and chemotherapy are having any effect on the cancer growth. My goal at this point is to coexist with the cancer, check its growth and mutation, and thereby survive as long as possible without progression or side effects.

Chemotherapy #27 was very tolerable. The irinotecan dose was reduced a bit because of my low platelets (66×10ˆ9/L instead of a healthy minimum of 150). I had virtually no side effects — no nausea, no mouth sores, no bloody noses, no tummyache, no headaches, not much gastrointestinal distress, though I am increasingly fatigued by the chemo and it’s good to have a nap the few days after chemo. I avoided taking my dexamethasone for days 2 and 3 because there were really no side effects to minimize, so I got much better sleep.

The low-carb diet is going very well and studies that say chemo is easier on a low-carb diet seem to be on the money. I have taken my average blood glucose levels from about 143 down to 99, and I am almost always 100% in range now. I’m hoping this stresses the cancer and helps the chemotherapy work better.

For Father’s Day, my wife made me an almond-flour low-carb set of cupcakes with whipped cream, Splenda, and powdered freeze-dried raspberries. It was so delicious and a special treat! She has such amazing baking talents working with dietary restrictions!

Low-Carb Raspberry Cupcake for Father's Day
Low-Carb Raspberry Cupcake for Father’s Day

We had Father’s Day dinner at Armadillo Grill in Carrboro, one of our favorite dinner spots, and it’s kind of halfway between us and my mother and father-in-law’s house. It is always wonderful to spend time with Grandma K and Grandpa J.

Father's Day Dinner
A lovely dinner meeting for Father’s day at Armadillo Grill

On July 1 our family traveled down to Myrtle Beach, SC to attend my niece B.’s wedding to her husband B. I am over the moon to have him in our family, he is the most kind and steadfast partner I can ever imagine. The wedding was in the aquarium in front of a tank full of stingrays, and the ceremony was very peaceful as a result.

As a bonus, the shark tank was close by in case anyone misbehaved. All weddings should be like this! The reception was held in a banquet room at the aquarium, with a local restaurant doing a fantastic brunch catering with Shrimp and Grits, eggs, sausage, fruit, hash browns, it was a very tasty spread.

At the wedding my Aunt R. and Aunt J. came all the way from upstate New York and Aunt R. made me the most amazing birthday strawberry-rhubarb pie. Some days I spend my precious 20 grams of carbs on blissful bites of the pie, and I’ve frozen three quarters of it for indulgences in the near future! So beautiful and delicious!

Aunt R.'s Strawberry-Rhubarb Birthday Pie
Aunt R’s Strawberry-Rhubarb Birthday Pie!!

Things were fairly rushed on the Myrtle Beach trip, and I was a little disappointed I never got to see the actual beach or put my toes into the water. Being a water sign, I need some regular beachy recharge time for my physical and mental health. But it was July 4th weekend, it was quite busy and me and the kids decided parking would be a hassle, so we headed home after a nice breakfast with my sister S, brother-in-law JD, and the newlyweds B&B.

It’s another week until the next chemotherapy round and I’m going to take a little beach vacation for my birthday!

Stayin’ Alive (Chemotherapy #26)

You know it’s all right, it’s okay
I’ll live to see another day

The news that my cancer has metastasized to Stage IV oligometastatic peritoneal cancer, frankly, is a big letdown after having endured so much. And it’s a bit of a mouthful when using big four-dollar words like oligometastatic (I’ll save you the trouble of looking it up: basically it just means it has spread to less than five areas of metastasis).

I am a little surprised that I haven’t felt any kind of emotional breakdown. I haven’t even cried about it — maybe that comes later? Instead I feel just a weird sense of peace. It is kind of a blessing to have some idea of when my end might come. I know there will be some really sucky days ahead, and I pray for the strength to endure those days with some measure of grace and that I can keep my optimism and personality intact. I really don’t want the people around me to suffer, and I don’t want to be remembered for whatever wounded personality I might have at the end.

I would rather be remembered for loving everyone unconditionally, without judgement, and for encouraging everyone I love to be the very best version of themselves. Love is the most powerful, limitless, and absolutely radical thing I have ever experienced in my life. It uplifts and transforms; it sustains and heals.

So forgive me if I wax sentimental for a moment here. For me, all moral, religious, and spiritual meaning begins and ends with these three simple words: God is love. Everything else flows from that, and life clicks into place. You don’t even have to believe in God; maybe you could just shave that little tautology down to LOVE. Or maybe love is all you need, if you are a Beatles fan. Every choice you make, every position you take, ask yourself if you are choosing love, or are you choosing something else?

No matter where I find myself in my relationships, my work, or even while driving my car (this last one is a difficult, ongoing work in progress for me), my thoughts keep coming back, decade after decade, to this simple passage from my favorite chapter in the Bible:

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not rejoice over evil but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.

Corinthians 13: 4-8

You’ve heard it at probably every wedding you’ve ever gone to, and for good reason. It should also probably be read at the start of every friendship, at every reunion, maybe sung in place of the National Anthem before ball games, and definitely spoken aloud — repeatedly — at all political gatherings and sessions of Congress.

I’ll repeat an earlier sentence now, as a transition back to Earth from my heavy little theology: love uplifts and transforms; it sustains and heals.

I am so thankful and grateful for all the reaching out people have done in the last weeks, sending messages, cards, books, hugs, thoughts, and prayers. Being surrounded by the warmth of so much love lifts my spirits and fills my days with joy. Thank you all so very, very much.

The Big Sugar Embargo

I am trying everything that I can to enjoy every day and not to make things easy for the cancer to grow. There seem to be (at least) two schools of thought about treating cancer: first, that cancer is a genetic disease that can be eliminated by finding a drug that targets mutations and delivers powerful poisonous drugs to the cancer cells and kills them; second, that cancer is a metabolic disease caused by, frankly, me being a fat diabetic pig who was playing with fire by eating sugar, and got burned when it supercharged some baby cancer cells and caused them to go haywire.

The basic problem with colorectal cancer is that it starts slowly and gains a huge number of mutations along the way, figuratively snowballing down a mountain of sugar towards oblivion. You can treat it with chemotherapy but if the chemo works, at best it kills off most of the cells and those cancer cells that survive are the ones that are mutated to be resistant to the chemotherapy drug. So you have to change to other chemotherapy drugs that might work on the resistant strains, and most of those can be killed with the right drug… but you might waste 12 weeks on each drug change to see if it’s working, and if it isn’t you only have a short period of time before you run out of options. If it is working, you have a short period of time before the cells that survived the second drug proliferate and need to be attacked with a third drug. Chemotherapy is a losing game of whack-a-mole.

You read every week about a new miracle drug that’s been developed that cures 99% of the population it was tested on, so you ask, “why can’t we try one of those drugs?” The answer is that those drugs are being tested in drug trials that take more than a decade to pass muster and get FDA approval. Everyone who has cancer now is like a ragamuffin little kid looking through the candy shop window at the shiny new drugs, wishing they could have one.

But what if there was a way to kill all the cancer cells no matter whether they had one mutation or a thousand? What one weakness do all cancer cells share that can cause your immune system to identify them and throw them on the autophagy fire? Even if you slow the cancer instead of destroying it, you can have more time to spend with your loved ones, maybe enough to watch your youngest son graduate high school… or even college?

I had started many months ago reading a book called How to Starve Cancer and a lot of the ideas in the book made a lot of sense. It takes the metabolic disease school of thought, where cancer is not something easily beaten, but rather something that feeds on sugar and glutamine, so you can eliminate it or hold it back by literally starving it.

Cancer cells have lost their mitochondria and aren’t able to use respiration (oxygen) to convert sugar into energy. Instead, cancer cells use fermentation to release energy from sugar, and it requires them to consume 21 times more sugar in order to divide, than normal cells do.

Lots of people have had success with 21-day water fasts to virtually eliminate their cancer tumors, but the moment they stop, the cancer usually starts to grow again. I think the fast is more risky and my oncologist doesn’t want me to lose weight.

From other sources like Jason Fung’s The Cancer Code I gather that intermittent fasting and keto diets can put a lot of stress on the cancer cells so that when they are exposed to chemotherapy, they are more easily destroyed. Cancer cells can’t use ketones whereas your brain and body are able to use them fine, after a short period of adjustment. As an added benefit, studies on mice show that in a fasting state, they suffer fewer symptoms from the chemotherapy because in a state of glucose scarcity your body’s normal cells go into a protective maintenance state that helps them survive the chemotherapy, and cancer cells have lost that option entirely because they are stuck in a growth mode.

I am no expert in Keto diets, and I’ve always thought that most people who do Keto are a little crazy, kind of like those crossfit loonies, getting super excited over macros and other terms I don’t understand yet. But if it could slow down my cancer I’m all for learning a bit about it.

On the day of my diagnosis, May 22, I immediately returned to my strictest version of my Type 2 Diabetes diet. My endocrinologist really liked my results and encouraged me to keep them up, but it was a lot of effort. Basically the plan there was to take in less than 20 grams of sugar a day. Carbs from vegetables of any kind were okay, the more fiber the better, and with an eye towards foods with a low glycemic index.

My low-carb typical breakfast

This time, though, I was going to keep under 20 grams of net carbohydrates a day (so fiber grams don’t count). This was immediately successful; my blood sugar average for the next two weeks went from 143 to 99, and I never had a blood sugar higher than 112.

I resolved to take that approach while I learned more about Keto and incorporated it into my diet, all while following my oncologist’s orders and not losing weight. Spoiler alert: I failed at that. Dancing on the Keto stage while trying not to lose any weight is truly a perverted thing to attempt, but I’m trying it anyway.

So now I’ll talk about the turns my life took in the last few weeks, while I strictly avoided sugar of any and all kinds.

Memorial Day Adventures

It has been an eventful and interesting few weeks since my last post, and I’ll go into quite some detail of it here. Editor’s Note: there is so much random crap in these sections that I’m putting headings on each section so that you don’t feel guilty about skipping the irrelevant humdrum details.

Memorial day weekend came right after Tuesday’s scan and diagnosis, and my oldest son has been bugging me for a while to go for a trip to my sister’s beach house, and Memorial Day weekend seemed like the most sensible time to do it. There wouldn’t be a bunch of traffic or extra people in town, right?!?! On such short notice, due to the schedule of everyone’s days off, we had to leave either my wife or my middle child at home and go either Friday night or Saturday night. Our middle child wanted some relaxation time since they had to work on Memorial Day itself and would lose a day off in the process, so we made the drive to the beach on a very drizzly Friday night. We checked the weather ahead and double-checked everyone’s mood, as it would be 100% light rain the whole time we were there, but everyone was eager to go. We left around 7pm and traffic was not even remotely bad. We pulled in to the beach house around 10pm, ate some snacks of nitrate-free prosciutto and goat cheese, and I brought one of the now-aging 330ml bottles of Olde Hickory’s Event Horizon beer and sipped a couple teaspoons of it while my wife drank the rest. We went to bed shortly afterwards. I had such a peaceful, restful night’s sleep!

Also, everyone let me sleep in on Saturday morning which was a rare treat. We went to our favorite little diner for breakfast, Castaway Grill, and it was absolutely packed. We had to wait about 20 minutes to be seated, and only two waitresses covered the entire place with surprising efficiency considering it was short-staffed that day, and busier than I had ever seen it. Sure there were some little forgotten things like syrup and ketchup, and I got sweet tea instead of the unsweet I requested, but these things were resolved in a reasonable amount of time and with great kindness and cheer. Some cranky entitled customers grumbled a great deal about some very minor inconveniences and waits; but there is no making everyone happy, especially when they have forgotten the part of 1 Corinthians 13 that says: love is patient.

Sign at the Castaway Grill

The weather was indeed drizzly on Saturday, and the wind gusts were almost strong enough to lean into and be held up by the force of it. We took a lengthy walk on the completely deserted beach, where the waves violently pounded the shore and each other, crashing loudly and sending spray everywhere. So many people really missed out on a lovely, energetic coastline that day. Afterwards we tried to go to lunch but all the people you would expect would be on the beach were in lines out the doors of all the restaurants in town.

House’s Place at the Beach

We found a restaurant nearby called House’s Place at the Beach that Google Maps said wasn’t too busy. We drove there to find it was in the middle of a resort and plastered with members only signs. The important thing to not getting caught is to act like you belong there and doing so, we had a lovely meal of Caesar salads with rare grilled ahi tuna, peel and eat Old Bay-seasoned shrimp, calamari, a shrimp po-boy, and a burger with a fried egg on top. I wasn’t eating carbs so I made a crouton-henge on my plate. How clever, right? I decided I wasn’t going to play by their rules any more! I do as I please!

Crouton-henge

Then we lounged around the beach house, had ice cream in town (or more accurately, I enviously frothed at the mouth while I watched our kids have ice cream in town since I am avoiding sugar), and left town in the early evening, headed for home.

Me and the kids on a very windy beach

On Sunday, I drove up to Richmond to visit my old college friend, B. We went to our favorite restaurant, Kuba Kuba, and they made me a carb-free bowl of Cuban roast pork covered with melted swiss cheese, with a side of delicious garlic-sauteed spinach. It was completely off the menu, something they made for B. when he was doing low-carb some years back. It was unbelievably good! We went to the Roosevelt for dinner and I had the seared scallops with midland cream peas, garlic scapes, quinoa and lardo. I skipped the quinoa but devoured the rest. The scallops were perfectly done. Every dish at the Roosevelt is mouth-watering.

The Roosevelt Seared Scallops

Monday was Memorial Day and I started by installing a lighted makeup mirror on the wall in the bathroom. Then I sat down in my recliner and got to thinking about stuff. I have all this stuff lying around. Some stuff that is broken and needs an hour or so invested in fixing it, or books I absolutely had to own but then only read once. I have lead-acid car batteries. I have a hundred plug-in adapters — power converters that would be a lot better situated at Toschi station. I still have a couple Buffalo LinkTheater units that I used to stream DVDs from a NAS before Plex ever existed. I have hard drives — even sizes like 120GB! Why did I keep this? Did I think I was going to live forever? Who has time to re-solder all the connections on 20 gaming headsets? What am I supposed to do with this PalmPilot? Oh, a Kyocera PalmOS Phone! X-10 switches? Good heavens.

I guess it is to be expected that there is something markedly different about your “save” pile when you get a terminal cancer diagnosis. I might have 2 years left or 20 but I won’t need any of this stuff in the U-Haul behind my hearse, that’s for sure.

It’s high time for a good day of döstädning, though I don’t think Swedish Death Cleaning was meant to be taken quite this literally. Regardless, a bunch of stuff went into the trash today, for electronics recycling, landfill, and the like. Stuff is going in piles for Freecycle, the thrift store, eBay, or the bulletin board at work. I like to think that my Memorial Day was spent de-memorializing some possessions, like the way a good degaussing removes a magnetic charge.

Working and Shooting Some Pool

I worked 3 more days in the work week, and I got to cap it off by playing in my Thursday APA double jeopardy billiards league. I won an 8-ball match against a rank 3 player (I am ranked a 4), in a 3-2 contest where I won 3 matches and they didn’t win any matches (scoring 3 points to 0 points). Then I beat a rank 5 player in 9-ball, 15 points to 5, meaning I sunk 31 out of 31 balls needed, and he sunk 23 of the 38 he needed. I was playing well, and was stoked to win since I have a secret fantasy that I will move up to a rank 5 before the end of my days. I feel like I’m close on this one, I’m winning 75% of my matches these days.

Visiting Family and My Trailer Woes

I took Friday June 2nd off work to drive up to visit my parents. I planned on bringing my minivan and trailer so that I could bring back some furniture a friend of my Mom’s was giving away to a good home. My two oldest kids are getting an apartment together in a few months and moving out on their own, and we’re trying to get them set up with the basics, and this would be a good opportunity for them to find some nice bedroom furniture. On hearing the plan to bring bulky objects home in the trailer, my oldest son wanted to come along and keep me from lifting and moving heavy stuff, and he wanted to get to visit his grandparents, and aunt and uncle there. We also thought it would be good for him to help decide what furniture he and our middle child J. would want for their apartment. Unfortunately he didn’t have the day off and got permission to stop working around 4pm to leave early. So we planned on getting up to my parents’ house around 8pm.

Not being able to leave before lunchtime, I decided to finish a couple tasks at work and attend a meeting, then I did a little organization in my garage and with the help of my youngest son J., we hooked the trailer up to the minivan and I tested the lights. Nothing happened. No left turn, no right turn, no running lights whatsoever. Not good. So I checked the wires and noticed the trailer ground wire had dry-rotted and broken, so I reattached it by stripping the wire and twisting it together. Nothing happened. I traced it down to another crack where the wire was broken, and stripped and twisted that one. I got a little glow from the right turn signal, but nothing on the left and no running lights. I was always worried about this trailer’s lights anyway, they were barely visible unless it was pitch black outside, and I have long avoided driving with it at night because I know I’ll get rear-ended by someone who can’t see the thing.

I had a plan before the cancer diagnosis, to completely re-wire the trailer lights. I had a $20 off coupon I got from Northern Tools for buying some scaffolding, and found a super-bright LED trailer light kit on sale for $29.99 (reg $39.99), and walked away with it for $9.99. Unfortunately I hadn’t done quite enough death cleaning to come across the unopened box of trailer lights, but I had several hours to kill before my son got off work, and I began a thorough search of my piles of crap looking for the trailer lights. I found them on the floor under some boxes and books, next to my rolling tool box, and set to work disassembling the lights on the trailer. I used the existing wiring to pull the new wiring through the trailer frame, split it to the left and right, and wire the orange marker lights. I got out my good Weller soldering iron and stripped the running light wires, soldered them to the amber marker light, grounded those, and used heat-shrink tubing to get a good water-resistant seal around the connections.

About that time my wife came home from work and I enlisted her help in handing me stuff, which she cheerfully did while we talked about all manner of interesting things. I discovered that one of the the steel tubes that are welded to the edge of the trailer bed, that protect the wiring as it goes back to the tail lights, was chock full of an advanced civilization of very, very, very tiny little black ants. I ripped the wire out, destroying the ant nest, before remembering I should have used the old wire to fish through the new wire, so my wife took on the task of cleaning out the tube with dowels and fishing the new wire through. I wired the tail lights in, soldered them and protected them with heat shrink tubing, and the completed job was a joy to behold!

We tested the lights: right turn works; left turn works; hazards work; but no running lights. It occurred to me to use my little trailer light socket test dongle to make sure the minivan’s output was working, and it wasn’t. So I concluded there must be a fuse somewhere that was blown, what with all the damaged wires we started this adventure with. I vaguely remembered when I installed the trailer hitch that there was an included fuse, but I had to search the internet to learn that it was passenger side fuse box mini fuse #5, 7.5A, that was burnt out. I went to two auto parts stores and was coming back when my oldest son was packed and ready to go, and he called to ask where I was and what in the world I could be doing. Soon I was home, the fuse was replaced, and the trailer lights worked brilliantly — by which I mean, they were bright even in the daytime.

We had a pretty uneventful trip to my parents’ house. My sister asked me when I called to let her know I was leaving, if I wanted to stay in her guest room or with my parents, and I said I should stay with the parents this time because Mom complained last time that she didn’t get to see me after I woke up, all the way until after we had breakfast at my sister’s house. So that Mom could get maximum exposure I would stay with Mom & Dad.

That was a big mistake. The 5th of June was the hottest day so far this year I think, like 85 degrees, and my parents didn’t have the air conditioning on so it was 82 degrees inside the house. I was sweating and dying, panting like a dog. My son asked if we could turn on the A/C and my father said no, he was just about to put on a sweater, it was so cold in the house and he was shivering. My parents would complain about the cold on the surface of the Sun. So my son slept downstairs in the guest room where it is cool and comfortable, and I slept in my old bedroom where the smoke from the fire and brimstone made me cough and choke all night. I closed the door and opened a window, and luckily it was cooling down outside so I got comfortable in a couple hours.

Saturday we went to the Juke Box Diner for lunch, it is a 50s-style diner but with Greek owners, so there are awesome foods on the menu like gyros and shawarma. The food was very good and we had a fantastic meal. The wait staff were brimming with hospitality and kindness, all in all a wonderful experience.

Juke Box Diner

Afterwards we went to my Mom’s friend J.’s house to look at the furniture she wanted to find new homes for. My son settled on two dressers, two end-tables, and one kitchen table. We came back home, Dad brought us to Harbor Freight Salvage to buy a half-dozen moving blankets, tarps and straps, then we returned home and had a rest.

On Saturday night at 7pm my high school friend JK planned to pick me up for dinner and visit a little with my parents. We had an 8pm reservation I think, at a restaurant of his choosing. But when JK showed up, he had our friend YK with him. I haven’t seen YK since my wedding 29 years ago! He looked pretty much exactly the same! I was excited to get to catch up with both of them, while we drove to Tyson’s Corner and went to The Capital Grille for dinner. We had a calamari appetizer, prosciutto-wrapped mozzarella, and I had a 10 ounce filet mignon, sliced with mushrooms and onions. It was absolutely melt-in-your-mouth tender and perfectly done. I still shudder when I think about how good dinner was… so many, many thanks to JK for setting up this fabulous reunion and for a fantastic evening with best friends. I also sipped some Cabernet Sauvignon, which was an amazing treat. I’m not on chemo yet, right?

Dinner with JK and YK

On Sunday we woke up early and brought the trailer with us, and my brother-in-law J. and my son loaded it up with 2 dressers, the kitchen table (upside down), end tables, and then we went back to my parents’ house and loaded up the lower part of an old Hoosier cabinet I want to restore and refinish. This isn’t my Grandma O’s old Hoosier cabinet, which my parents restored and I totally covet that amazing piece, but this is one that hasn’t had its bare oak wood painted, it needs some re-gluing and TLC.

The loading of the trailer totally flattened the left trailer tire and we had to fill it to 40 psi with one of those 12V plug-in air compressors before going to my Dad’s house and using his pancake compressor to fill both tires to 60 psi. They were showing the starting signs of rot, so we checked the internet everywhere to locate a spare, just in case. We found one on the way home in Dale City, but it was mis-inventoried was was actually a 15″ trailer tire instead of a 12″ one.

We went to Sunday lunch at my parents’ favorite Greek restaurant, Spartan‘s, and my low-carb option was a gyro platter with Greek-style beans instead of fries or mashed potatoes, and a side Greek salad, add an entire side of Kalamata olives. Delicious!

Sunday lunch with Mom

We said our goodbyes and headed back home, anxious about the trailer tires popping on the way home, but we made it home in one piece, and in pretty good time.

For some reason I didn’t have the deep sense of dread that I always feel before chemotherapy day, but the next day, Monday June 5, was the scheduled chemo day. I realize suddenly, that the reason I didn’t have a sense of dread is that I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have chemo that day, as I was being recruited for a study of a new chemotherapy drug. But the fallback position was FOLFIRI+BEV (Irinotecan, 5-Fluouroracil, and Bevacizumab), which incidentally did absolutely nothing while my cancer spread to my liver and grew and grew until surgery, a hepatic arterial infusion pump, chemo with Floxuridine, and radiation finally beat it down.

My Failed Attempt to Become a Human Guinea Pig

On May 31, I got a call from my oncologist saying I may qualify for a Phase 1 clinical trial using AbbVie’s Anti-c-Met Antibody Drug Conjugate, ABBV-400. To translate: my tumors have a mutation that expresses high levels of c-Met (mesenchymal-epithelial transition factor), and this mutation is associated with overall poor prognosis (AKA death), because the cancer has a high resistance to chemotherapy drugs. The drug being developed, ABBV-400, is a refactoring of a moderately successful trial drug ABBV-399, being tested against solid lung cancer tumors, but this drug targets c-Met expression and uses it to deliver chemotherapy to cancer cells, while sparing cells that don’t express c-Met. Some of the immune and epithelial cells in your body express c-Met and will likely suffer side effects, but the ability to deliver poison directly to my cancer cells would be a huge boost. The study is in the fourth stage where it is being tested against colorectal cancer tumors, and earlier stages with dozens of participants show some promise. And they also mean that I wouldn’t be the first human after mice to receive the drug (nice).

Another nice thing about the study is that it would pay for all costs of treatment, and a bunch of extra scans and blood work to see the levels of the drug in my blood 24 hours after receiving it, extra labs, extra CT scans and PET scans. Even if the drug didn’t work, I would be the beneficiary of a lot of information gathering that could be useful. Though I would have to endure regular biopsies of my tumor so that it could be genetically tested and evaluated, and I know from the days of my painful abscess that poking holes in my abdomen while I am conscious is not my favorite thing at all.

I spent a day researching the company, its drugs, their approaches, and reading about the study. Being in the study isn’t without its risks, like I could turn into a giant squid and slide into Jordan Lake and terrorize boaters for decades before I am hunted down and killed. Though I might enjoy that. Or it could be a Firestarter sort of situation and I start being able to make nuclear explosions when I am angry. That might also be interesting.

Or more simply and sadly, if the study drug isn’t working after 12 weeks and we decide to discontinue it, my cancer may have grown so much that I have even less time left to live, which means even less time to find a chemotherapy drug that works against my stubborn tumors. Making the right choice is so important right now, it makes my tummy rumble to even think about it.

So everything seemed to be lined up, though in order to enroll in the study, my platelet level of 91 would have to be over 100. My platelet levels have been on a steady climb ever since they were zorched by radiation in March and fell from 123 to 86. I had my fingers crossed.

On Monday the 5th of June I started my day with my lab work. The port nurse accessed my port, got good blood return, flushed it with saline, then drew out a couple syringes of blood (thus lowering my platelet levels even further). She put on a gel dressing to last a few days in case I went home with the 5FU chemo, and the hypo-allergenic version of the Tegaderm dressing over my port needle.

I’m not sure why they call it a port, since it’s on my starboard side.

I was released from the lab to head up to my oncologist appointment, and before 15 minutes had passed, the CBC (Complete Blood Count) results were in, and my platelets had fallen to 87.

And just like that, no study drug for me. Sigh. At least it wasn’t a treatment decision I had to make.

So we went to Panera Bread Company in the hospital, which should be renamed to Panera Stuff-You-Can’t-Eat Company because there really isn’t much on the menu that doesn’t have loads of carbs. So I had some tomato soup for lunch, and a couple hard-boiled eggs, and I contemplated my fate.

But then one of my co-workers, T. showed up because his mother was in the hospital having surgery, and I hadn’t seen him much in the past few years since the COVID and so seeing him really cheered me up and took my thoughts off-track. Thanks, T!

I had my oncology appointment after that, where I signed the consent forms to proceed with the FOLFIRI+BEV chemotherapy, and we talked about how nice it was to be off chemo for so long — well, except for the part where the cancer went bat-shit Tetsuo Shima insane on my peritoneum. I had them check out the red bump on my forearm that I was convinced is skin cancer (spoiler alert: it was probably a chigger bite, and now after the chemo it’s gone so… we will never know).

Then, after leaving the oncologist’s office, I got my CEA (Carcinoembryonic Antigen) results. The value was 8.7, down 12% from the previous value of 9.9. With no chemotherapy and only a restricted sugar and carb diet, with ketone levels of about 1.6, my value went down!!! Looking at the upward trend, the expected value after 13 days should have been about 12.9, but this result was at least 23% lower than I expected it to be.

My CEA Levels during cancer. Surgery #1 on 10/2021, Surgery #2 on 9/2022

This gives me hope that, going into the chemotherapy, the restricted glucose diet is helping slow down the cancer. Now I’m excited to know what the combination of diet and chemotherapy will do to the CEA when it is tested in 3 more weeks!

Chemotherapy #26

Doing chemotherapy and oncology appointments on Monday was much less crowded than it has been on Tuesdays. We didn’t have too long a wait in the waiting area, and were taken back to a regular infusion room with a reclining chair. Since we’re not accessing the HAI pump this time, there is no need for a bed which improved the wait time as well.

I got weighed, and I was 201 lbs (I lost 5 pounds in the sugar embargo).

I got my pre-meds, 12mg of dexamethasone and 16mg of zofran, a half hour wait, then a tiny syringe of atropine before the irinotecan infusion. The irinotecan takes a couple hours to infuse, then they switch to the bevacizumab, which takes about a half hour to infuse. Then they brought in the 5-Fluouroracil in a chemo football. Yay! We’re back to the football! I like this infusion pump much better. It is mechanical and has a 5ml/hr rate limiter, whereas the take-home electronic infusion pump is adjustable (but we only get 5ml/hr anyway). The electronic infusion pump is very heavy and onerous to drag around everywhere, and to sleep with at night, and it makes tiny zweep zweep noises as it pumps the 5FU.

My tummy was unsettled though not nauseated, and there were some cramps happening in my abdomen as is usual for the irinotecan. I forgot to bring my imodium so I expected instant diarrhea as usual, but it didn’t arrive. I did go to the bathroom halfway through the infusion, and it was reasonably normal.

We were discharged and I felt kind of hungry and surprisingly not nauseated so we went out to grab a bite to eat at the Carolina Ale House. I had a steak with Caesar salad (hold the croutons), and roasted vegetables. I was surprised I had a fairly robust appetite.

That night I took a melatonin to get sleepy, and I sat in my recliner since my stomach was getting a little queasy and I didn’t want to keep my wife awake in case I started hurling vomit all over the bedroom. I fell asleep at about 11pm, but my oldest son woke me up asking if I was doing okay. Grr, I was trying to fall asleep. I groggily went up to bed and slept until about 5am.

Unlike every single other chemotherapy session I can remember, I woke up without nausea. I didn’t need any zofran. I took imodium in case I needed it, but nothing seemed to indicate that I would. The only thing that was unusual was that on Tuesday at lunchtime I had a fatigue crash. It could have been not getting a full night’s sleep the night before, but I thought I would lay down instead of eating lunch and I slept deeply for 75 minutes.

Over the next few days of the “bad week” I didn’t get any mouth sores, dizzy spells, nausea, or insomnia. In fact I never took my 8mg of dexamethasone to relieve side effects, because I didn’t have any. I didn’t have blood sugar spikes, in fact my sugars were in the low 80s for four or five days. I did have the usual painful and caustic burning poops when the irinotecan went through me, sometime on Wednesday.

I’m beginning to think there is something to this notion that keto, fasting, and carb restriction can help reduce chemotherapy side effects.

I had a miraculous week. I joined my lunch bunch friends on Wednesday. I felt great. I had a lot of energy at night… I went to my APA pool league on Thursday. I lost my 9-ball match to another 4 (who is a 5 in 8 ball so… a better shot than me), but I won my 8-ball match against D, who is a 6!!! I was over the moon at sneaking in a win against a 6!

And then, this past Saturday, I pre-played an 8-ball match against C.S., a 7. His pool game is amazing. I did a lot of racking the first 2 games, I barely got a shot or two in before he cleaned the table and sunk the 8-ball. The third game was thrilling, I got on the 8-ball first and shot it and missed! He sunk his last ball, then expertly put down the 8 ball and won that game. The fourth game I was very lucky he made one mistake and I managed to sink my balls and then the 8-ball! The fifth game I also won, so I won a match against a 7!!!!! I almost pooped myself I was so excited… and nervous. So I won 2 out of the 2 games I needed to win the match, and he won 3 out of the 5 he needed to win. Final score: 2 points to zero points!

So at the time of this writing, I have a week before the next chemo infusion and it’s been a very tolerable cycle, for the first time… ever, I think. Right now I’m feeling hopeful and quite healthy, which is a special blessing. Thanks for reading all the way to the end of this book, if you made it here! And I was so scared!

My love to all!

Chemotherapy #25

It’s Valentine’s Day and we start it by waking up early, showering, packing snacks and essentials into our chemo kits, and showing up at 8:00 a.m. for the lab work and port access.

Warm hearts in front of the cancer center fireplace

My favorite port nurse was busy with another patient so I saw a new port nurse who did a wonderful job of painlessly accessing the port. My port catheter, the one that goes over my collarbone and into my jugular vein, down into the top of my heart, was wonderfully patent, which here means it was clear of gunk and blood clots, making the task of drawing a couple of vials of blood for my blood tests easy work.

Next I went upstairs for a CT scan to check whether we have achieved tumor regression. It took until about 1:30 p.m. for the scans to be analyzed, so we couldn’t actually do our scheduled 10 a.m. oncologist appointment, or the 12 p.m. surgeon’s appointment until we had that information, so we had a very long 4-hour wait in the oncology waiting room while the CT got studied. My wife went down to the Panera bread place and got me a wonderful caprese sandwich. It hit the spot — I had skipped breakfast in case I needed to fast for a cholesterol test or something, and I was super hungry. I don’t generally know ahead of time what they’re going to test when my blood gets drawn.

Finally the CT results came, and the liver tumor that measured 1.3cm now measures 1.0 cm, about a 23% reduction in diameter, though by calculating the volume of a spherical tumor, that is a 45% reduction in volume. There are no observed new or increasing liver lesions. Also it never seeks to amuse me that this line always appears in my CT scan reports:

- Pelvic Organs: Unremarkable.

I don’t suppose this needs a lot of comment, but doesn’t that sting just a little?!

So I’ve got a lot of confusing pictures but hopefully adding arrows will make it easier:

It’s Valentine’s Day! Here’s an expensive picture of my heart. You can see my port catheter in white up by my clavicle. The white calcification is my next heart attack, stay tuned!

I am pleased that I got a great, encouraging visit with my cardiologist last cycle and since my metabolic syndrome markers are all down, hopefully we’ve stopped any atherosclerosis in its tracks. So that was a picture of my happy heart! In the CT scan, looking at the stent in my right coronary artery is kind of cool, it sparkles like a Twilight vampire! How cool is that?!

My stent sparkles!
Here is the remaining tumor on 12/13/2022
This is the tumor on 2/14/2023, hopefully it looks 23% smaller to you too!
This was the pie slice containing a big tumor that was removed from my liver during my September 2022 surgery.
This is the same pie slice now, all healing up

So after the CT scans were analyzed, I got to meet with my oncologist and then my liver surgeon. Everyone is happy the tumor is shrinking. Unfortunately if chemo makes the tumor disappear, any leftover cancer cells will go into hiding like Voldemort and slowly gain strength, only to come back in a year or two with a vengeance. So there will be a review of my case on Tuesday, where we decide what the next steps are. Surgery is risky because the tumor is so deep, and it would require removal of a large amount of liver tissue which has not-insignificant mortality risks. Ablation by sticking a probe in there and hitting it with 5 or so minutes of energy, can damage the bile duct and artery that are very close to the tumor and cause significant complications. The next best thing would be to start radiation which would kill the tumor cells and any innocent bystanders, or else possibly turn my liver into Godzilla. Either result sounds pretty cool, honestly.

In the meantime, we’re going to do three more chemo cycles first: a double whammy, then a single whammy, and another double whammy.

I am breathing a little easier right now, knowing we are making great progress. I am feeling so much less fatigued and have more stamina, and I am hopeful that we can safely stop chemo, load the hepatic artery infusion pump up with a big dose of glycerin or maybe vodka, and live free for a while. Big smile!

After the hopeful meetings with doctors, I went up to the infusion clinic and we had another good wait until about 3pm, when I got a bed. My nurse was Nurse H, who I’ve had once before and she is a ray of sunshine. She gave me the pre-meds (12mg dexamethasone + 8mg Zofran), then used the big huber needle to access my HAI pump fairly painlessly and confidently, though not quite as expertly as Nurse O. I was definitely pleased with the performance though. I’ve had several people in training do it and it was less pleasant, but never too bad.

Nurse H is super helpful and cheerful, and it was a pleasure to spend a couple hours infusing irinotecan after getting my atropine. The atropine makes you feel a little funny, your heart makes a little hidey sort of feeling, then your forehead gets a little dizzy, along with your eyes. But with the atropine on board, the irinotecan doesn’t give you abdominal cramps and pain, so a little dizziness is just peachy.

The irinotecan infusion went really well, I didn’t feel ANY nausea or ill effects except a full bladder. I got plugged into my 46-hour 5-fluouroracil IV pump and we were set free around 7 p.m., much later than usual. An 11-hour day!!

In a VERY RARE event, I was feeling just fine and hungry for dinner, so we had an impromptu dinner at Freddy’s Frozen Custard and Steakburgers, since it was open and I never got to have my Monday strawberry milkshake. Pretty much ever since chemo started, I have treated myself to a strawberry milkshake on the day before, just to keep my spirits high and my stomach happy. Freddy’s is somehow my favorite, the flavor of the custard is better to me than the soft serve ice cream in most joints. Even better is a milkshake made with Hershey’s ice cream and strawberries… wow. Even better with heath bar crumbles. So this is what I ordered, a strawberry milkshake with heath bar, some tiny shoestring fries and a patty melt, which my tummy wasn’t as excited about but seemed to work.

I immediately went to bed after I got home, somehow thinking I could fool the steroids into letting me get a full night’s sleep. I also took 5mg of melatonin. No such luck though, the kids were having super loud 90dB conversations outside my door, so I cranked up some storm sounds on YouTube on my TV, and that helped. But I stared at the ceiling until about 1am, which is two hours earlier than normal.

Wednesday night I’m going to try a little new trick. My sister gave me an amazing purple flannel quilt and it’s sort of magical at causing me to sleep in warm happy bliss. I think of Like Water For Chocolate, where Tita’s emotions are transmitted to the food she makes. This book is a great read, and if you only have a couple hours, you can watch the amazing film. Do it! I feel like my sister must have been super tired when she made this quilt, and the energy woven into the quilt takes about one minute to drop me into deep sleep in my recliner. I’ve got to bring it up to my bed tonight and try it there! In the meantime at 8 p.m. I took my usual evening drugs plus 4mg of the steroid dexamethasone, which lessens side effects from the chemo but also can keep me awake and definitely it raises my blood sugars.

I never got to try my sister’s quilt experiment because after midnight as I was headed to bed, my youngest son approached me needing help with the math on a chemistry project. I tried to understand the problem for about an hour but my brain was exhausted, I absolutely couldn’t keep a focus on anything, and kept falling asleep into micro-naps. We both decided to go to bed and wake up early. So I fell asleep, exhausted, more or less immediately and woke up at 7am with an unsettled stomach. We finished the math and my son packed up and went to school. I had to shower and go to work, still pretty tired with about 5 hours of rest.

Thursday I woke up, worked the full day, then went to pool league. We earned this cool patch for winning 5 out of 5 matches of 9-ball and shutting out the opposing team.

Sweet victory!

I was late getting to bed Thursday night, but I was quite exhausted so I feel asleep pretty easily and got 7 hours of sleep. What bliss! I woke up Friday much better rested, with my brain working properly at last, at least until 5pm when I started getting really tired. Over the next 12 hours as the steroids wore off, I slept probably 10 of those hours. Also once the steroids were gone, I had to tolerate a near-constant tummyache for days and days. And my mouth sores arrived full-bore and have made it hard to eat, chew, or swallow. By Saturday I had lost 6 pounds and weighed 197 lbs.

Saturday I got to sleep in! How amazing! We got a new elliptical and it was delivered on Thursday, so the kids were bugging me to “help” assemble it. My oldest was a lot of help actually, and it took us about 3 hours to put it all together. The instructions consisted almost entirely of exploded parts diagrams, so it was quite difficult to follow, but we managed it. The box it came in was of particular interest to the cats, but when one of the kids and I claimed the territory by getting into the box, the cats ran away scared.

If it fits, I sits!!!

As far as the chemo side effects go, the entire “bad” week has been much worse than any of the last 6 or so rounds. My stomach is nearly always unsettled. Even Tuesday, the first day of the “good” week hasn’t been so good. I discovered cottage cheese for some reason calms my tummy. Until this cancer battle, I don’t think I ever had more than a couple containers of cottage cheese in my life, but now I go through several in a month.

On Tuesday, the start of the “good week,” the oncologists, interventional radiologists, and surgeons had a meeting and one of the cases they discussed was mine. They recommended dropping two of my three scheduled chemotherapy rounds and using radiation treatments to go after what remains of the tumor. They felt that now that the tumor is small enough, there is about a 95% chance they can eliminate it with radiation. There will be side effects like nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, skin burns, et cetera, and recovery from the radiation treatments can take several weeks. There is also a risk of radiation induced liver disease, which is… not a good thing.

I have an appointment at my next chemotherapy day with the interventional radiologist to hear the plan, its risks, costs, and side effects. I will update the blog with the results of that consult and the plan going forward.

I have to admit that I am excited that chemotherapy #26 might be the last round. Three rounds of radiation means that perhaps in less than a month I might be recovering, and hopefully looking at this cancer in the rearview mirror. At the same time, the chemotherapy has seemed to keep the cancer from metastasizing further, and stopping it feels a bit like wandering out of the green safety zone. But I can tell you, I will not miss chemotherapy.

I feel like this has been the worst round of chemo. I had abdominal discomfort and an upset tummy for 10 solid days, and intermittently even up to the day before round #26. Mouth sores persist, even the day before the next round. In most ways, I never had a “good week” except that my sleeping was much better.

On Friday morning at around 4:00am, according to my middle child’s recollection, there was a great deep thud and crash, and little did our sleeping family know but that a tree at the corner of our yard fell across the road and took out the power lines on the other side. I woke up around 5:00am to the police shining lights all over, and then the power company arriving and sitting quietly in their bucket truck contemplating the destruction. I had to take a half day off work that morning because when the power company’s tree crew came, they blocked off my stree and were very keen to know who the tree belonged to. I was waiting for people to show up in my yard with torches and pitchforks, since everyone’s power and internet was out now.

Rest in peace, you old dead tree

I was pretty sure that the tree wasn’t actually mine. It is actually three very large trunks merged into one at the base, and one of those trunks leans dangerously over all the cars in my driveway, and will very likely remove the corner of my garage if it comes down, which is all but certain now. About 6 years ago the tree had clearly died and I approached the neighbor about it, even offered to go in halves on the cost of removing it. The neighbor wanted to have a survey crew look at it to determine whether it was his tree or mine. Then, a few weeks later there was a FOR SALE sign on his property and it sold instantly, and there was a new owner moving in very shortly after. I meant to discuss the tree with the new owners, but I didn’t want them to be looking down the barrel at a several-thousand-dollar tree removal expense while still in their homeowner honeymoon period. I never got around to talking to them, since a year or two later they renovated the house and sold it to my current neighbor, S.

I checked my survey and though the edge of the tree encroaches on my property line one foot away from my split-rail fence, the centers of all three trees are solidly on my neighbor’s property. So the power company cut the tree up and got it out of the road. It’s nice wood, ash I think, and I’m thinking since they put all the wood on the street side of my property, if no one wants it I might want to get it milled down into little boards for woodworking.

Then on Sunday, day 13, the filling in my tooth all the way in the back on the top, disintegrated and made my food all crunchy, I had to spit it out. I didn’t experience any pain but I could notice with my tongue that there was a huge hole down the center of the tooth. I switched to soft foods and prayed my dentist could fix the tooth before my next chemotherapy round, as they do not like you having dental work during the chemo, as it can introduce bacteria into the bloodstream that your immune system isn’t able to fight. On Monday I called the dentist’s office and politely pleaded with them to fit me in that same day before chemo, and they had me come in at 9:00 a.m. and wait until there was a free space in my dentist’s calendar. I got put in a dentist’s chair and given X-rays, and when my dentist got free for a bit around 9:30 a.m., he numbed up my tooth, ground out the remnants of the old filling (which was placed back in 2008), and put in a new filling, all in less than 20 minutes and I was released gratefully into the wild. Thank heavens! And many thanks to my dentist as well!

I was super happy to hear this week that our old family friend (old for a long time, not necessarily the ancient kind of old), Mr. P is coming home from the hospital after surgery to remove cancer from several abdominal organs. Mr. P. is a huge inspiration to me, his ability to remain cheerful and make jokes about his years of cancer treatment and chemotherapy always cheer me up when I call him to chat and commiserate. I don’t think I would have as positive and cheerful an attitude about this whole cancer mess without his example to guide me. He is one of the dearest people to me in the world, and is like another father to me. My prayers are with him every day, as well as with my friends P. and T. and L., who are recovering from their own cancer battles. And of course my prayers go out to all people affected by cancer, and all who suffer with health problems, may all of us see lasting health and be free from pain.

That’s pretty much all I have to report for this cycle and besides, my cat Boots has fallen asleep on my mouse and I have no way to click around and edit things anymore. So anything I write from here on out would just be stream-of-consciousness ramblings. Or wait… I think it’s all stream-of-consciousness ramblings anyway. Oh whatever. Be well everyone, and take good care of yourselves!

Chemotherapy #24

My last chemotherapy round was the easiest ever, and for that reason I felt very grateful and rested, like I had been on vacation somewhere. I arrived at my lab appointment at 7:00 a.m. and my favorite port nurse T. accessed the port expertly. For the first time though, my port was being a bit cranky and was difficult to get blood return, so a bit more flush did the trick and she drew several vials of deep red blood. My lab tests drawn this time were a CBC, CMP, CEA, and LDH.

The results were quite promising! In my Complete Blood Count, the platelets were 116, up from 98 but still less than the 150 desired. My Red blood cell counts were up to 4.13 from 4.09, should be about 4.37. For my Comprehensive Metabolic Panel, my liver enzymes were back in the green, AST=37 and ALT=56.

Best of all, my Carcinoembryonic Antigen (CEA) was 4.7!!! Down from 8.8 last month. A CEA of 2.5 is the high side of normal, and my highest value was 70 before liver surgery. The CEA numbers are very important because low CEA levels put your oncologist in a good mood. There are reasons CEA can be elevated other than cancer like smoking or exposure to deadly chemicals, so it isn’t the most specific test in the world, but we’re fairly certain these relate to my tumor and the new number is comforting.

My Lactate Dehydrogenase was down to 130 from 150. Cancer cells are devolved primitive cells due to mutations so they are forced to get energy from fermenting 21 times more sugar than normal cells. The LDH test measures a byproduct of that fermentation and skyrocketing values aren’t very good, people don’t tend to survive with high readings. So this lowered number is also good news.

I lost 2 pounds and am now at 202 lbs, so my weight is stable.

Infusing Chemo #24

We met with the oncologist and I told her the story of the last cycle, then we looked at the lab results and decided to proceed with the chemotherapy. We got to the infusion clinic earlier than ever and it was only a half hour before I was shown to a bed. A half hour is about the fastest it can be since it takes the pharmacy about that long to custom mix your particular cocktail of chemo drugs.

Maybe it is a bit of both!

I got my pre-meds and met trainee nurse A, who came to us from Boston and is very experienced in nursing, but new to the chemo business. I swallowed the 12mg dexamethasone and 8mg zofran, and after a half hour wait to let them settle in, I got a dose of atropine to counter the irinotecan’s crampy abdomen effects and we started the irinotecan infusion.

Nurse O is probably my favorite chemo nurse. She is so knowledgeable and experienced, explains everything happening really well, fills in gaps in my knowledge, and does a fantastic job training the other nurses. Best of all, she can stick a huber needle into the dead perfect spot in the reservoir of my hepatic artery infusion pump in one swift, nearly painless maneuver. I was complimenting her on this when I realized I may have jinxed the whole thing… but she repeated her previous expert performances without a stitch of worry.

Nurse O flushed and then filled the HAI pump with the floxiridine for two weeks of constant infusion. The irinotecan infusion finished, we attached the 5-flurororacil to my port line from a take-home portable IV pump, and we were free to leave! I think it was a new record for speed, the whole process starting with the lab work, was over from start-to-finish in about 5 hours.

Normally after the irinotecan infusion is done, my stomach is more upset than it was at this time, so I wanted to risk getting some lunch in me, as it was before 1 p.m.. We walked about quarter mile to a cafe that served African dishes. I’d heard good things about it, but had never gotten a chance to go there. It did not disappoint, though the eggplant dish I ordered was a bit spicy and I worried about having another bend-over suffering digestion event, so I finished only half the dish and traded with my wife for her salmon dish. She was very nice to offer this, but then I learned she doesn’t really like eggplant, so then I felt bad. I LOVE eggplant in so many different ways, how after 35 years together I missed that she didn’t like eggplant?

Afterwards, we walked back towards the parking garage but we had to ascend hundreds of steps to do so and my wife’s knees are not in good shape so it was very slow and painful going. We stopped to have a rest halfway up.

Taking a rest from stair-climbing

For dinner, at my oldest son’s request, I taught him how to make homemade tomato soup by roasting tomato halves and garlic under the broiler, sweating onions and celery in butter, adding the tomatoes and cooking for about 20 minutes, putting in some homemade chicken bone broth since I was out of vegetable stock, and a bit of basil, then blending the soup until just broken up because I don’t like it too smooth. Then he wanted it to be creamy so I taught him how to make a roux and turn the dish into a tomato bisque. In exchange, he made me a killer grilled cheese sandwich and we had that for dinner. It hit the spot, and my tummy was very happy.

I had a terrible time getting to sleep that night due to the steroids. I had 5mg melatonin around 9pm and still wasn’t able to drop off to sleep until about 2am. I woke up at 7am with an upset stomach but not full-on nausea. Some milk and crackers seemed to help.

I had to rush to my yearly cardiologist appointment, and she spent a good long time going over the events of the past year. With the weight loss and exercise (6000 steps a day now), my systolic blood pressures are in the 100s-110s, so she dropped my blood pressure medicine, Losartan, by half also to give my kidneys a break. She also said research is favoring a figure of 7500 steps a day, so I need to increase my walking. She was happy that my metabolic syndrome markers are way down, and was thrilled with my last lipid panel: Total 117, LDL 45, HDL 50, and Triglyceride 111. My Triglyceride to HDL ratio was down to 2.34. So here is my little lecture on the significance of this ratio to your health:

Your Triglyceride to HDL Ratio. This ratio is an indicator of your insulin resistance, and this value should ideally be as close to 1 as possible, but good scores are usually less than 2. A score greater than 3 is not good. I think my score here was a 9 when I had my heart attack in 2007. If your score is that high, this gets called diabetic atherogenic dyslipidemia, and it accelerates atherosclerosis, making heart attacks and strokes much more likely. There is actually a push to use this ratio to diagnose diabetes, because it shows up a decade before your blood glucose goes wonky, and usually by the time your diabetes is diagnosed using blood glucose levels, your heart has already incurred way too much damage. There is a lot of evidence that insulin, and not cholesterol, is the cause of damage to the cells that line the walls of your arteries. The cholesterol that accumulates there is like the fire truck in front of a burning house, it is trying to put the fire out but in this case, since fire trucks are always in front of houses on fire, they get blamed for starting the fire. What you can do to help avoid this is (in order of importance):

  1. Keep refined carbohydrates low, and avoid as much sugar as possible. Sugar will kill you much faster than any kind of fat, except for trans fat and expired oils.
  2. No snacking between meals — mom was right when she said you will ruin your dinner, and now we know it will ruin your heart too. Your insulin levels need to go down and stay down for some time before your next meal.
  3. Give yourself a good fasting before eating the next day. Don’t eat for a couple hours before bedtime, sleep 8 hours (also important), and when you break your fast your insulin levels should be down again.
  4. Avoid vegetable oils (that is a misnomer — there are no actual vegetables in vegetable oil) and seed oils. You are actually better off with coconut oil, palm oil, ghee (clarified butter), butter, beef tallow, lard, or chicken schmaltz. Seriously! Check the dates on your oils and throw them away if expired, or if there is no expiration date on your oils. Olive oil is amazing for its polyphenols, but only if it’s not heated to its smoke point which oxidizes the oil and makes it harmful. And only buy olive oil that is single-sourced from one country and has the production date and expiration date listed on the label. Avocado oil may be okay as well if you don’t want to trust the oils the good Lord gave you, and it is good for cooking due to its high smoke point.

End of lecture!

So I went into the office on Wednesday and had lunch bunch with my friends. I had the meze platter with eggplant salad, ezme, baba ganoush, tabouli, and stuffed grape leaves, and fresh Turkish bread. It absolutely hit the spot but I didn’t touch the ezme, it was too spicy. I had also an order of cigar bourek that was good but maybe not entirely beloved by my tummy at the time. The food and company were perfect.

At 3pm I had an appointment to get 4 new tires on my 2015 Smart ForTwo Electric Drive, and the shop was backed up so it took until 6pm. While waiting I went to the shops across the street and walked more than 7000 steps, and picked up some groceries and chicken wings for dinner.

My fleet of Smart cars… 2013 Brabus Edition, 2013 Electric Drive, amd 2015 Electric Drive

When I got home the older two kids divided up the prep duties: my oldest made my special recipe buffalo sauce and he got the emulsion with the butter just absolutely perfect. I made the beer batter and dredge with 16 herbs and spices, and my middle kid cut the wings into flats and drumsticks, and reserved the wings in a container for making chicken stock later. I’m not in a position to handle the spice of buffalo wing sauce due to the chemotherapy destroying my intestines, but I did try a couple of wings as simple fried chicken, and they were perfectly crispy and tasty. Since the liver surgery (and gallbladder removal), I can’t tolerate a large volume of fried food though, so I made a salad with tomatoes and cucumbers, red onions, feta, olives, and high quality olive oil, with a splash of balsamic vinegar. I would normally have more vinegar but it really upsets my stomach on chemo week.

And upset my stomach it did! I had a deep bout of nausea and took a Zofran, then had a dish of ice cream because it always seems to settle my stomach… or soothe my brain. After about 30 minutes I was feeling pretty okay.

Thursday was takedown day, and Nurse J. from the home nursing service came after the 5FU infusion was finished, flushed the line, and put in heparin to hold the fort until next time the port gets accessed. It was a sort of bittersweet experience because Nurse J. is taking a job with less travel and this was his last visit. I’ll miss his friendly nature and his deep concern for his cancer patients. After takedown I took a shower, which I can’t do while the port is accessed, and feeling all nice and clean, I made it in to work by noon! I had lunch in the cafeteria, a caesar salad with no croutons, and the addition of olives. And two deviled eggs, which I have never seen on offer in the cafeteria before. I love deviled eggs! And these were no disappointment.

On Thursday night I went to pool league and won a 9-ball match against Perry (a 5) for the first time in my life, and we were competing for one last ball so it was a close and exciting contest. I’ve never even been that close to winning against Perry. Then I won an 8-ball match 3-0 against another 4 and she is honestly a much better shooter than I am, but I played very defensively, which I think offended her. (So sorry!) That night, as a team we did a clean sweep in 9-ball, meaning we won all 5 matches for a 73-27 score. We also won the 8-ball match, but not all the games. This puts us in second place for 9-ball, and our eyes are on the next city tournament if we can take the lead!

Friday was a good day! I started the day with a nice conference call with my Mom and sister, which is a wonderful start to a day! Then I went into the office, had a salad for lunch with still more deviled eggs, and worked until I got a craving for enchiladas. At the end of the day I group-texted the family and asked if anyone wanted to go to El Rodeo, one of our favorite Mexican restaurants, and everyone was enthusiastic about going. At this restaurant, their enchilada sauce is not hardly spicy at all, so I hoped I would tolerate it well, and I did — 2 bean and 2 cheese enchiladas supreme. I wasn’t feeling the beef or chicken. No problems with digestion! Happy Day!!!

After dinner, feeling full and having started my steroid crash after the dexamethasone wears off, I went to bed at 9:30pm and slept for about 6 hours. Not feeling too tired, I updated this blog and then went back to bed.

The weekend went by in a blur. Saturday we watched Everything, Everywhere All At Once which was amazing and pure chaos, and the movie was interrupted often by some chaos in our household too. We watched the movie in the afternoon so that my wife wouldn’t fall asleep in the middle (she wakes up at 4am for work and after about 8pm she falls asleep pretty much wherever she is sitting or standing). The film really is deserving of all the awards!

I think the good week started early on Sunday morning, as I felt pretty good and had minimal side effects/symptoms. Typical for this time in the cycle, I have started to develop mouth sores since the chemotherapy attacks quickly dividing cells like the lining of your mouth and the lining of your intestines, and things like your hair follicles too. As I get more cycles of irinotecan, I seem to be developing a cold sensitivity in my back teeth that usually goes away by day #9. It makes it hard to have cold iced tea or ice cream, it takes several minutes of discomfort before you’re accustomed to cold things. But in the big scheme of things, this is very minor and I’m thankful to be complaining about something so minor.

Monday I went into the office for work, had delicious tacos al pastor with grilled pineapple for lunch with friends, and that evening I made [Japanese] yakisoba (fried noodles) for dinner. I learned a new trick from last week’s pad thai experiments. With pad thai, you simmer the pad thai sauce until it thickens, set it aside, then add to the noodles later so they don’t get overcooked and gummy. I was inspired by that and did the same when making the yakisoba sauce, mixing sake, japanese worcestershire sauce, and Bulldog tonkatsu sauce and simmering them until thickened. Then after stir-frying the meat, adding the vegetables, then the bean sprouts and cabbage, I added the noodles and the thickened sauce, stirred until mixed, and sent it to the plate. The advantage of this was that the vegetables were not too overcooked and the noodles were more toothsome, which never happens when you have to simmer off the sauce while all the ingredients are stewing in it. What a great lesson learned! Though my oldest child said this time he thought the sauce was too intense and I realized the packet of fresh yakisoba noodles I used was 12oz instead of 16oz, so I should have compensated by making less sauce. I actually liked the flavor a lot, though it burned my mouth sores. I had to go update my recipe with what I learned, so I remember to do it again next time! I love when you get a new outlook on one recipe from the techniques of a different recipe.

Tuesday morning I went into work and had lunch in the cafeteria downstairs, with seven of my coworkers, one of whom was visiting after retiring at the beginning of the year. It was so wonderful to see him again, and also wonderful to have lunch with the team which has been rare in the COVID and post-COVID days. Now that people are returning to the office, I hope for more opportunities to see everyone!

On Wednesday I got to see the Lunch Bunch for Turkish food. My favorite Turkish restaurant was collecting money and items for earthquake victims and the local news showed up to interview the owners and employees. Sleeping bags, clothes, shoes, boots, blankets, and much else were being packed into boxes and they were to be taken to the Turkish embassy in Washington, DC. When the news story aired, I was in the background eating lunch and was momentarily shown in the broadcast. A scene shot of the front of the restaurant also included my little black Smart Brabus. But it’s a somber news story; Turkey is going to have such a long road back to normal, it is horribly sad. One great way to help is to donate to the Bridge to Turkiye Fund.

I took Friday off work and went to visit my parents for a couple of days. In the days before the cancer treatments, I tried to visit them once a month, but I am very lucky now if I can see them every few months. I planned to leave around 8 in the morning but didn’t get on the road until after 9, and I stopped a few times to walk around and prevent pulmonary embolisms by taking ten-minute walks around rest stops. I arrived around 2 p.m. and was quite tired by the trip, so I took a nap for an hour or so, then visited with my parents for a while. Then I got to have dinner with my friend J from high school, and I enjoy every opportunity to spend time with him since our friendship magically picks up like not a moment had passed in between. A recurring theme in my life lessons with cancer is that special friendships are golden treasures, and you should spend as much of your life nurturing and appreciating your good relationships as you possibly can.

When I got home around 8:30 p.m., my father went to bed since he turns in pretty early, and I got to spend some nice time chatting with my mom on the couch until about 10:30. My sister and father always have breakfast together at a place called Anita’s, that has breakfast burritos with egg, potato, and a variety of ingredients and proteins depending on which one you choose. There is a whole take-out business dedicated to people ordering and picking up a bunch of these breakfast burritos for their home or office, or just for themselves. They meet there and have quality father-daughter time every week, and my sister wanted me and my mom to join this time for a nice family breakfast.

I got to sleep in my old bedroom and I woke up the next morning in a sort of time warp back to 1985 or so, hearing my parents talking and saying, “but it’s 7:30, he should be up! Is he awake?” I can’t tell you how many Saturday mornings went like this growing up, since I liked to stay up late in the morning on Friday nights and watch Star Trek or Doctor Who, or read or write in my bedroom until the wee hours of the morning. I would always sleep in, while my family woke up at 5 a.m. and made huge lists of chores and things to accomplish for the day, and they would divy up all the tasks and all of their work would be finished by about 9 a.m.. Then they would congregate outside my door and make noise and scuff about, somewhat irritated that I was still asleep. If I slept past 11 somehow, the dog’s slimy tennis ball would end up being thrown in my bed repeatedly, shortly followed by being jumped on by the dog, until I got out of bed and was good and awake. My nickname in these moments was Lazy-Bone Jones.

So hearing my parents walking around the house talking, I got up and they must have texted my sister that I was awake because she showed up shortly afterwards, and not even having showered yet, we jumped in her car and went to Anita’s for breakfast. And the breakfast didn’t disappoint — so muy delicioso. The place had maybe 20 percent of its tables occupied, and my family were commenting about how busy the place was this late in the morning. I asked when they normally came, and I think they assumed that I knew, but the answer was they always get there at 7:00 sharp. So I seriously threw them off their groove by sleeping in. It’s nice how almost 40 years later, our Saturday family dynamic isn’t all that different, LOL.

I got some quality time over the weekend with my parents, helped teach my Dad the ins and outs of the Plex Media Server so that he could access and play videos from an external drive on their TV, and showed my mother how to search plex.tv for movies and shows, since it shows very accurately which streaming apps and services can stream that movie for free or for rental or purchase. I’ve used Plex for years on my home NAS and totally love it.

I also had a really cool conversation with my Dad about Tyre Nichols and the Memphis police, and how in policing, politics, and in our relationships, our society is losing the ability to treat others like humans, with respect. The dehumanization of the last few years makes it too easy for us to demonize and murder people from other parties, races, countries, or walks of life. We need to train ourselves better how to be better human beings. This discussion provoked some rare discussion from my father about his time in the military, which is always amazing and fascinating because I do love hearing about and learning what makes my Dad tick.

And before I new it, way too soon, it was time to go home, and once there I began the preparations for the next round of chemotherapy. I like to prepare some food to stock the fridge with easily reheatable meals that don’t upset my stomach during chemo’s bad week.

This time I made homemade cole slaw and my gramma O’s cabbage rolls recipe. This was the first time I ever made cabbage rolls and they turned out okay, though the recipe calls for uncooked rice and it was a bit too al dente even after 50 minutes of baking, probably I did not have enough water in the filling. But on reheat they were wonderful! Not a bad first try. Now it’s time for the next cycle! On Valentine’s day I will have a CT scan to check the progress of the chemotherapy on my tumor, and I have my fingers crossed for the best!

My first cabbage rolls!!

I appreciate everyone who has gotten this far through the blog post. Thank you! Love to you all!

Chemotherapy #20

I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt so good going into a chemotherapy day.  After a lovely 4-day weekend, plus travel that broadens the mind, happy digestion, and almost-normal elimination (the polite word for it), I woke up at 6:30am and had until 7:45am to shower, assemble my chemo bag, and get to my lab appointment.

What do I keep in my chemo bag?  It doubles as a go bag for ambulance rides to the emergency department, when things occasionally take a turn for the worse so it has some items that will help me in the long-term.

First, I have two sets of headphones: some Raycon earbuds for using in the waiting areas so I don’t look quite so dorky, and my JBL noise-cancelling headphones for when I’m in the infusion room listening to my constantly-evolving Chemotherapy Playlist. I have my tablet so I can write, browse the web, or play puzzle games like sudoku.  On long stays I bring my Dell laptop and its power adapter, but the adapter is made of tungsten I think, and it actually weighs about 16 pounds where the laptop is only like a pound and a half.  I keep a graphene USB charger which is awfully heavy and I don’t often need it because there are usually plugs nearby except in waiting rooms, but on long hospital stays it comes in handy.  I have ginger candies for nausea, and I used to have Dove dark chocolate squares except that in the summer they all melted so I never replaced them. I have my Kuru Toga mechanical pencil and a notebook, should the tablet fail or maybe in case I was inspired to draw, though the word draw here means to make stick figures on paper that even a preschooler would look down their nose at. I have my IV pump for the 46-hour 5-fluouroracil infusion. I have a powerful little UV penlight so I can check the cleanliness of things, since I might be a little bit germophobic and I don’t like filth.  I have a micro-fiber cloth for cleaning things but usually I end up blowing my nose with it. I realize I never really owned a proper handkerchief. I have a MagicEraser too, for cleaning tough filth.  I carry extra Zofran for nausea, imodium for diarrhea, and colace for when you want diarrhea, haha. I have a little box with magnetic pressure point bracelets for nausea, but haven’t really used them yet.  I think like flying in Peter Pan, you have to know that it will work ahead of time.  I have a pair of reading glasses.  For some reason I have a jeweler’s screwdriver set, I don’t really go anywhere without it.  I have a toothbrush, toothpaste, and flossers. I have a tube of Nuun tablets in case water gets too boring, or in case throwing up causes me to need electrolytes in a hurry. I have a couple of USB flash drives, including a Windows 10 install drive for some reason. It is best to be prepared: I figure maybe an MRI goes south and I need to reinstall the OS to get it running.  Though I can tell you, I would never get into an MRI that ran Windows.  I have a sleep mask that comes in handy at times. I have a sort of floppy frisbee sort of thing in a small round case that can be used as a fan when it is popped open. I have a digital voice recorder in case I think of something poignant to say. I have a nail kit and cuticle pusher. I have an HDMI cable and an ethernet cable, because you never know when you’ll need them.  I have some gauze, band-aids, and alcohol lens-cleaners.  That’s about all I can recall or bore you with at the moment.  But the point of this is that the chemo bag weighs an actual shit-ton and by the end of chemo day, it feels like I’m dragging Stonehenge home with me.

But I digress.  We got to the cancer center at 7:48 due to difficulties getting my companion to come out to the car. I checked in for my 7:45 lab appointment and was given a pager.  There was a very, very, very long wait that ate into my oncologist appointment at 8:45am.  I think it was 9:00am by the time the pager went off, despite me sitting for 72 minutes under an electronic sign saying the wait time for a port nurse was 0 minutes.  When the pager went off, I went into the lab, someone took my pager, and about six different people asked my name and looked confused when I told it to them.  Finally someone looked me up on the computer and realized I needed to be in the basement radiation clinic, where some overflow nurses were helping access ports.  Someone walked me down there, where I was met by nurse J. who took me into a relatively swanky examination room and accessed my port.  We had a nice discussion about my Freestyle Libre glucose monitor, and then about the nurse’s husband who was diagnosed with diabetes and wasn’t taking it seriously enough.  You actually learn so much about managing diabetes with the Freestyle Libre, because you can see that not just the types of food you eat, but the portion sizes, have a huge effect on your blood glucose.

After taking several vials of blood for my CEA, CBC, and CMP tests, I was let go to visit my oncologist’s PA.  This wait time was short and tolerable, and I was weighed at 201.2 lbs, had a nice low blood pressure, and was taken to an examination room.  The PA came in and we discussed the last chemo cycle.  I talked about noticeable side effects this time.  I had like a week-long painful mouth sore started by my inadvertently biting my cheek, that almost entirely healed in the last couple days of the cycle.  On the bad weeks, it seems like no wounds ever heal or improve until the last 4 of 5 days of the cycle, then they heal up just in time for the next round.  I complimented the PA on her imodium regimen, because it saved me like 95% of the pain and frustration of going to the bathroom.  I had a couple concerns, for one I feel like I have puffiness in my armpit and she did an exam of the lymph nodes there and was satisfied there was nothing to worry about.  Second, one of my surgical incisions is still packed with a hard dermabond scab, where nearly all the rest have fallen off and are now good, sealed, healing skin.  She checked the stitches on my HAI pump incision and removed them.  Then we talked about my lab work.

My liver numbers have gone back to a healthy range in the 2 weeks I had off from the HAI flloxuridine chemo… always a good thing.  My CEA levels are down to 13.1, where they were 19.2 on 11/1 and 70.6 on 7/19.  This is encouraging because lowering CEA levels may mean the tumor is responding well to the chemotherapy regimen.  My red blood cell count and hemoglobin have improved a little, still under the normal range but tolerable.

Then I was sent up to the infusion clinic appointment, which by now I was about an hour late for.  As soon as the hospital’s Panera Bread shop started serving lunch at 10:30, my wife brought me tomato soup and we went out on the balcony to enjoy it.  It was a beautifully sunny day, and even though it was a tiny bit chilly outside, the warming sun overcame it perfectly.

Enjoying the balcony at the Cancer Center

Unfortunately we enjoyed the balcony for about two hours before we were given an infusion room.  It’s more complicated and time-consuming for me than it was before the last surgery, because now I need an infusion room with a bed so that they can raise me up, flatten me out, and stick a big needle in my HAI pump.  I like having the bed because I can nap very comfortably and listen to music.

We were led to the infusion room, where nurse H. gave me the pre-meds of 12mg dexamethasone and 8mg Zofran, plus an IV dose of atropine which makes me feel sort of light-headed and makes the lights too bright, and after all is done, I have to walk home all gangly like a baby giraffe.  But the atropine is amazing at reducing the spasm/cramps that occur about half way through the irinotecan.

After a half hour of waiting for the pre-meds to take effect, the nurse started the irinotecan.  After about an hour of infusion I started getting hit with wave after wave of nausea.  It was the worst I’ve had up until now, but I didn’t throw up.  I was so tuned into breathing and trying to mentally overcome it that I forgot my ginger candies and magnetic bracelets.  My wife pressed on my pressure points which seemed to help.

Then the nurse came in to access the HAI pump reservoir using a kit with a big needle.  A second nurse came in also to learn how to do this procedure.  After a good scrubbing with chlorhexidine, nurse H. demonstrated how to stick an enormous needle into my belly in just the right spot.  She sort of complimented me on not having a lot of fat over the HAI pump, which makes it super easy to find the lumen and stick a needle in it.  The procedure isn’t terribly painful, definitely less bad than an IV insertion but a little more noticeable than a port access needle because when pressing into the HAI pump, the whole pump is pushing down into my abdomen which is a bit uncomfortable.

Once accessed, the attached syringe spontaneously fills up with the saline that was in the pump, and the line gets clamped off, the liquid amount is measured to determine flow rate, and then the syringe is discarded.  Then comes a sterile saline flush, where more than 5ml of saline is injected in, then allowed to be pushed back out by the action of the pump. Then comes the enormous 50ml syringe of floxuridine, which has to be injected 5ml at a time, 1ml allowed to flow back out, then 6 ml, then 1 ml allowed to flow back out, and this is continued until all the floxuridine is injected.  The needle is painlessly removed and the HAI pump is ready to go.

Next when the irinotecan was done, nurse H. noticed my nausea and discomfort and offered compazine, but I felt like I had a tolerable amount of nausea and opted to put up with it.  So the nurse took my electronic IV infuser, changed its batteries and hooked up the 5-fluororacil to my port line.  After starting the pump and observing it for a short time, we were let go. 

It was about 4:30pm by now… a very long day at the chemo clinic.  Normally if you arrive at 7:45 you can count on being out by 1pm but this was a longer day than usual.

Sleeping was tough.  I went to bed early, like around 7pm, and took 5mg of melatonin which usually helps.  I had about 30 minutes of sleep before I had to wake and take my evening medicines.  Then it took me more than an hour to fall asleep again, I slept for another hour and woke up to roll over and couldn’t get back to sleep.  I came downstairs and finished my Thanksgiving blog entry, which made me feel tired again so I went to bed and eventually fell asleep, until about 3am when my IV pump set off a loud alarm claiming something about being unattended.  I wondered briefly if it was looking for nearby brainwaves but wasn’t finding any?  I got the thing working again, took that Zofran for the nausea that was getting intense, and went to the kitchen for some Kefir, which seemed to help the nausea, though it could have just been the Zofran.  I came back to bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time before my eyes got heavy and I slept again, this time until 6am, and my body told me this was the end of the line.  Please exit the sleep train at this time.

I’ve had a lot more nausea on this 2nd double-whammy chemo than any time before.  I’ve had my emesis bag handy at all times, and sometimes I’m just curled up breathing through it.  I tried a ginger candy at about 10am and it seemed to help.

Wednesday I went into the office.  The steroids and imodium had me feeling pretty normal, and I like working in the office a lot better than working from home.  It’s a beautiful environment, you can walk around a gorgeous campus to take a break, and there is a cafeteria on the ground floor so you don’t have to make your own lunch. 

Only on this Wednesday I had lunch with my lunch bunch as I call them, friends that have been meeting nearly every week for more than 12 years.  I was quite hungry and had a bowl of lentil soup and kofta kebabs.  Lentil soup is sort of a magic elixir when my stomach is upset, I didn’t have any kind of nausea again until about 5:30pm.  I came home and had some dinner and once my stomach had something to do, I felt better.  No more Zofran as of yet!

I woke up early on Thursday morning, sort of excited that it’s chemo takedown day where I get disconnected from the IV pump and get my port flushed and de-accessed at about 1:40pm.  I’m not sure why this is such a difficult thing to arrange, but it is what it is.  In the used-to-be times, the cancer center would notify a home nursing service to come and do the chemo take-down.  I love the nursing service because most of the nurses they send have had cancer and chemo before, and they give great advice and encouragement.  They generally contact me the day before via text message or call to my cell phone, and firm up the time.  If they don’t, I usually contact them and find out there’s some snafu like the Cancer Center scheduled them on the wrong day or not at all, but we get it worked out.  Last night I contacted the nursing service, who had no idea I needed a takedown and scheduled to send me nurse John… this guy is the best, very professional, asks lots of questions to make sure you’re tolerating the chemo okay, and gives great advice.  It’s almost like a visit to the oncologist. But then I got home and my wife told me the Cancer Center’s home health team called and set up a take-down at 1:40pm with nurse J. so I had to contact the other folks and cancel John, since if both get sent the nursing group might not get paid.  It would be helpful for me to know ahead of time which takedown provider will be used, for times like the last round where nobody showed up at all.

So it’s Thursday December 1st!  I never could get the hang of Thursdays.  But this one was good so far, I woke up with no nausea and actually ravenously hungry, so feeling the energy of the steroids, I put a steak on the cast iron to feed myself and the 3 kids.  It was about 24 ounces so I supplemented with some Smithfield breakfast sausage, which I thought I shouldn’t eat because of nitrites, but this brand of breakfast sausage has none!!!!  Then I thought what the hell, let’s go for the Full Monty.  And no, despite the amazing favorite movie of the same title, I did not cook in the nude while dancing to Abba.  I mean that we had the General Montgomery English Breakfast!  Steak, sausage, mash with gravy, tomatoes, beans, and mushrooms.  I skipped the toast and eggs, this is a big breakfast as is and on the steroids I have to be more careful with carbs or my blood sugars skyrocket.  I made plates for the kids too, who were wondering if it was Christmas already.

The Full Monty

On Thursday afternoon at precisely 1:40pm, the Cancer Center home care nurse arrived and performed the chemo takedown.  The timing was so good that a few minutes after he arrived, my IV unit started beeping to notify us that the infusion was done.  It’s always an amazing feeling to be off the infusion.  Even better is being able to take a shower after waiting about an hour for the port needle stick to close up.  Clean and tidy, I went into the office and worked there for the afternoon.  The office is so quiet and peaceful, it is much better to work there.  Also my secret lab/home office is chilly these days so I prefer the warmth of the office.

A little note on how I was feeling:  amazing!  On Thursday I felt better than I had in years, maybe it was due to the dexamethasone steroids, but I felt unusually good on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  On Friday, I attended an office luncheon where I got to see about 50 people from my division and many I had not seen in years!  I had filet mignon and roasted vegetables, and the food was incredible.  I also had an unusually good appetite for bad-chemo-week.  Normally I lose 4-5 pounds not eating in the bad week, then gain them back again in the good week.  Though I weighed 200.2 lbs on Friday, meaning I lost about 2 lbs, this seems to be an improvement.

After the banquet I went to Baker’s Dozen doughnuts and got a dozen fancy donuts for the family.  I had one of the doughnuts and it didn’t even freak out my blood sugar since I’d had steak and vegetables for lunch and eggs/protein for breakfast.  My wife and I went out for Indian food for dinner Friday at one of our favorite restaurants, and she tried several foods and let me know which ones were too spicy, and I avoided them.  I so love spicy food, but the FOLFIRI chemotherapy seems to damage my GI tract badly enough that almost any spice causes food to go right through me in a pretty dramatic way.  That improves somewhat in the good week, and I can actually have mild salsa and chips.  Almost any cayenne pepper or dried red pepper is torture though, to my mouth and digestion.

I started feeling the steroid crash on my drive home on Friday, I was almost falling asleep at the wheel.  So after our Indian dinner I crawled into bed and slept like a rock until Saturday morning, maybe 10 hours straight.  Saturday we went grocery shopping, and then had lunch at the Armadillo Grill in Carrboro.  I went to a birthday party gathering that afternoon and stayed late to help clean up.  I was feeling pretty good and stayed up a bit late in the recliner fooling around on the computer attached to my 4K TV, kind of a luxurious way to browse Facebook, catch a bit of Rimworld, and update the blog.

About 5am I woke up with a sore throat, so I went downstairs and refilled my water, had about 8 ounces, and blew my nose.  My wife says it’s been more runny this week than normal, she noted it to the oncologist on Tuesday.  By my memory it’s been quite runny ever since restarting chemotherapy, tinged with a little pink blood when I blow my nose.  My temperature was 97.7, blood pressure 125/73, 82 pulse, 96% SpO2. I kept worrying about the sore throat and decided to burn one of the COVID tests we have lying around. We’ve used a bunch on everyone else, and I haven’t taken one yet. So I set it up, stuck a swab in my nose, and dripped 3 drops onto the test strip… within minutes I got a POSITIVE result. That’s not very positive, but… yikes. I have COVID.

On Sunday I called Cancer Center’s nurse line and it informed me that they were closed until Monday at 8:00am. My wife got the idea of calling the hospital’s main number and got the operator to page the doctor on call for my Oncologist’s office. I got a callback from Doctor J., who asked about my symptoms, temperature, O2 sats, and blood pressure. She told me if my temperature exceeded 100.4 during the night or my O2 sats went below 92% or 90%, to go to the urgent care or emergency department. She gave me the phone number for the hospital’s special COVID clinic, and told me to call them at 8am Monday morning.

I had simply the most awful night’s rest I think I’ve ever had. The night went like this: I fell asleep quite easily, then had stress anxiety dreams about hospital billings and insurance, or about mysterious columns of numbers that needed to be checked and double-checked or the sky might fall, or any number of ridiculous situations with terrible consequences. Then I would wake up after seemingly hours of this nightmare, only to find the clock had only advanced by a minute or two. I must have had 500 of these dreams back-to-back and when the sun came up, I was exhausted. This led to me falling asleep all day long, in the middle of phone conversations, while logging into the Walgreens website or the hospital MyChart application — I would wake up and find I was automatically logged out due to inactivity (sleeping).

I also have had a constant headache, body aches, low grade fevers at night, and progressively worsening dry cough. So on Monday at about 8am I called the COVID clinic, only to find out that it now provides vaccinations and tests, but no longer does monoclonal antibodies or infusions. There is a specialist that I can get my oncologist to refer me to, that can work with my team to craft a care plan. So I contacted my oncology team to inform them of my COVID diagnosis. They told me there was this great COVID clinic I could call, so I told them what was going on with the COVID clinic and how I needed a referral to their COVID expert, and the oncology team got right on it.

An hour or so later I got a phone call from Doctor G., the specialist, and could tell immediately from her questions that she not only had read my entire chart (which at this point probably looks like a Michener novel), but she knew all my prescriptions and had done a good deal of preparation. She talked to me for nearly an hour about all the options, which ones still were effective, which ones were FDA approved or nearly-FDA-approved, the side effects of each, and interactions with my chemo and expansive list of prescriptions.

She recommended Molnupiravir because Paxlovid shouldn’t be used with my blood thinner Eliquist (which I am taking to dissolve a pulmonary embolism). She sent the prescription to a nearby Walgreens pharmacy since they seemed to have it in stock. I started taking it on Monday evening, and I don’t know whether it was immediately effective or if I am starting to get better, but I slept much better on Monday night. Except that I had a really vivid nightmare that all the dishes in my sink were overflowing and dropping soda cans, cat food cans, and plates onto the floor, so may have dreamed that I filled the dishwasher at about 2am. On Tuesday my wife asked me if I did the dishes in the middle of the night, so I guess it actually happened. I’m honestly surprised I stayed awake long enough to finish something.

Tuesday wasn’t much better than Monday, I still fall asleep in the middle of things, but I have a bit more attention span. I feel like I have less runny nose, but my coughing is getting worse, but O2 sats are still better than 93% so I am optimistic. I am actually able to update this blog because my wife gave me a wonderful head massage which canceled the headache almost immediately, and I feel actually able to think clearly again. I hate headaches!!!

Tuesday night, the headache was making me cross and simply ruining my life, it is the worst symptom. My wife risked her health to give me a forehead/orbits massage that lifted the headache like a blanket, folded it up, and threw it in a corner. I was in bliss just having a respite from the headache, it was marvelous. My brain was finally working again!!! I was able to make some social media and blog updates. A couple hours later I could feel it on the edge of returning but I went to sleep and it never came back.

I also had solid food for dinner instead of days of soup, and I savored being able to chew something, except that I have some bad chemo mouth sores that make anything acidic very painful to eat. I weighed myself at 195 lbs, so I’m about 10 pounds less than I should be, I fear getting that anorexia mark put on my record again at the next chemo session.

Wednesday morning I woke up feeling much better. My O2 sats were 97+ instead of 94+, I am coughing less, and the muscle aches left me sometime in the night. The antivirals were totally doing their job, though at the expense of some tummy aches and wet poops, but that’s what imodium is for. Since my brain is back in play I worked at home from my bed using my laptop. Having one screen only is a pain, but I manage OK. I’m hoping we’re out of the woods on this COVID thing. I am super thankful for the vaccines, without which your chances of going into a hospital increase by more than 10.5x. I’m sure my immune system is pretty wrecked after all the chemotherapy, but I am thankful that it’s still putting up a good fight.

On Thursday, my oldest and middle children both came down with symptoms and tested positive for COVID despite my masking when outside of the bedroom. I can only assume that the new strains are much, much more airborne and are circulating through our HVAC system. I tried to keep the bathroom clean with chorhexidine wipes but this probably didn’t work either.

On Friday, the children were already starting to feel better and by the next day, there was very little trace of the virus. Both of them had been boosted in the last few weeks, so clearly that protection gave them miraculous immunity to the virus.

On Saturday I was feeling exceptionally good, no fatigue at all, and I wanted to take advantage of the remaining days of my “good week” so I embarked on a project to install my retractable electrical cord reel in my workshop. I had purchased it before the cancer and never felt good enough to take it on, since it involved moving the band saw out of the way, drilling through studs, mounting a heavy object above my head with lag bolts, and all of this was just… well, over my head for a long time. Technically with the HAI pump I should avoid lifting really heavy objects so that my core muscles don’t displace anything important, so I made sure everything was a reasonable lift.

Once installed, I took my electric blower out in the yard and blew leaves, then vacuumed them up to the limit of the retractable cord’s reach. It was quite a chore, there were so many leaves!!! So after that I had to have a nap, I was quite drained. Once I was more rested, I went with my wife for a nice little hike on the Eno river. I call it a hike, but it was really more like two moaning invalids crawling up and down stairs trying to recall their youth when they were perfectly ambulatory. People were staring at us and everything. Cancer patient and lady with bad knees decide to go bouldering in the woods without supervision. That will end well!

On Sunday I took on another project, this one to install a retractable air compressor hose in my garage so I’m not always tripping over air hoses and spending hours coiling them back up. The hose reel is very heavy, so I made a template from its mounting holes and realized it can’t just be put on a stud, so I framed a box between two wall studs like you would a window, with two additional studs taking the weight, and I can mount the thing onto horizontal studs with a big dado for extra support, all secured with lag bolts. I think I could hang one of the Smart cars on this frame. I didn’t finish the project this weekend though, the air hose reel is way too heavy for me to lift, so I’m going to get some of my three strong kids to do the heavy lifting later on, while I mount the thing. I would say next weekend but that’s the bad week from chemo #21, and therefore not compatible with accomplishing much of anything. We might get lucky and see it finished in 2023!

On Monday morning I tested negative for COVID! I messaged my oncology team about whether we should proceed or reschedule, and they said I am far enough out that it’s okay to come. But Jen can’t come with me, with active COVID, my youngest son who isn’t infected will be at school all day, my older children are infected with COVID, and I just learned that my backup plan, lunch bunch friend L. also has COVID. I’m thinking maybe one of my other lunch bunch buddies, though I might be taxing them too much asking for a whole day hospital hangout. The oncology team said it would be okay for me to come alone this time. But the downside is, when I am in the office feeling great I barely can remember what all my issues were in the last cycle. I’ll just reference my blog, which is sort of my external data backup lately.

This brings us up to the edge of Chemotherapy #21, so follow along on the next post!