Round Two

So today marks the beginning of my second round of chemotherapy. This time I get an extra booster drug called Avastin. They didn't want to use it last time because the port-a-cath they put in hadn't healed yet. Speaking of the port, I meant to get a photo of it but somehow didn't. Now it's under a bandage with the pump. I'll get a photo of the pump first, then the port when the bandage comes off on Wednesday. I'll know more on Thursday, when I am scheduled to meet with the liver surgeon to review the detailed, 3-D images we took last week. Watch for news at that time.

The doc seemed to think that my tumors were smaller this time. He used the phrase "melting away" to describe what he thought and hoped was happening to them. Me too! One tool of getting better is to visualize what I want my body's processes to do, helping them along as they do their work. The "melting" picture is one that I really enjoy using. One of his patients, in a similar situation to mine, had his tumors melt away to zero. That's my plan as well. My colon tumor seems to be smaller, in that I have an easier time going to the toilet than I used to. That's important (same as for everyone) but for me they were talking seriously of putting in an "ostomy" or a kind of tumor bypass hose. (Artificial rectum and plastic bag. Ugh.) I'll do whatever it takes, especially temporarily, but I'd much rather be able to just do the usual thing in the usual way--and that's what is happening now. The old phrase "old age is not for sissies" means a lot more to me now than it used to. I don't claim to be old, exactly, but I'm in a boat with a lot of older people and we have to deal with a lot of stuff. It takes a strange kind of courage, but I'm happy to say that I am finding it in abundance with the help of my friends and family.

My diet ranting came to a strange head today. One of the chemo patients sat in the chair next to me eating packaged snack crackers and drinking a diet soft drink. He had a white bread sandwich, a bag of 'tater chips, and--get this--he was smoking a cigarette at the entrance as we were leaving! WTF is he thinking? How can he imagine that he is helping to heal himself like that? Statistically speaking (for what statistics are worth in this situation) he looks like one of the people I'll be able to beat to the finish line. Maybe that should make me feel better, but it just makes me sad for him. You know how it is, though, that tough old bird will live to be a hundred!

So now I'm beginning a slow week of hanging around and napping. Food tastes strange again, cold is more bothersome than before, but if those are the worst side effects I see then I'll be a happy camper. My weight is constant at 198 lbs (89.8 Kg), something that I have been working hard to maintain. My goal now is to devise an exercise regimen that will allow me to work out and not get too cold doing it. Perhaps a wind trainer on my bicycle, inside...

Thank you all for reading along and following me through this. Your positive energy, thoughts, wishes, prayers, offers, emails, calls and cards all really do help. When this is over I will be eager to return the favor, so watch for me in your own time of need, if such should come.