Nearing the End

So it's been a whole month since my last post. Nothing much has happened until this week, and now suddenly there's a whole lot going on.

First, I had a very nice 'all clear' report from my colon surgeon. He felt around in there (seemingly about elbow deep) and said that I was healing normally and looking good. What's more, he said that there was no reason for me to see him any more unless I had a specific problem. One doc down, four more to go.

My oncologist agreed with me that there wasn't much use in my having a portacath in place any more, so I'll be having that taken out next Tuesday. It's not a big thing, but it bothers me every time I use a seatbelt or wear a full body harness, so I'd just as soon have it gone. By an interesting quirk the surgeon scheduled to remove it is my liver surgeon--he's the best. I will ask him if he also does this "light work" as part of his duty, or whether he took on this task just to see my insides again. He is very proud of his work with me (as well he should be!) and lights up like a bulb whenever he sees me. Such a response makes me feel good, but it's also a little scary. I imagine him saying to me "Wow! I can't believe you actually lived!" So that will be the end of my involvement with chemotherapy and liver surgeons. Two down, three to go.

Last week I visited the brain surgeon's office, but all I saw there was his Physician's Assistant. She was worried that the radiation could cause swelling of the brain underneath the new plate. In order to check this, I'll have a CT scan next week. While we're at it, we'll go ahead and do the chest, abdomen, and pelvis in addition to the brain. I'm not sure what symptoms might go with any such swelling, but I'm not feeling anything. Perhaps the odd seizure here and there...? I don't anticipate seeing the brain guys again, though I should get a call saying whether the scan looks good or bad. Three down, two to go.

Next Wednesday I will see my radiation oncologist. At that time I will have only two more sessions of radiation left. There don't seem to be any ill effects that he didn't predict and that he wasn't worried about, so I'm expecting just a "rubber stamp" visit with him and then to be let go. If so, that will be four down and only one doc left.

The oncologist is my principal cancer doctor. He was the first one I saw concerning treatment, and so it's fitting that he'll be the last one. I will see him the week after next, after the CT scans have all had time to develop. My plan is to get a CEA test order (due four weeks after the end of radiation) that I can take with me to Nevada. Did I mention that we're taking the Bambi out to Reno for the annual company training event with Ropeworks/Skala? It's during the first two weeks of December. Anyway, I sure hope that the CEA test yields a really low number. Remember, we're going for something less than 5 (and I started out with well over 8,000.) That will really tell the tale about whether or not this disease is really in remission. I'll be thinking all kinds of positive thoughts, hopes, and prayers for that outcome, but also living life in the meantime with this first real road trip in more than a year. If it goes well, we might just head to Alaska and not come back at all. Five docs and a whole 'nother lifetime gone and over with.

But for the ugly bald patch on the back of my head I look and feel just about normal. I'm getting stronger every day. Though my stamina and strength aren't up to what they should be, I'm better off than most 50-year-old men I know. Climbing 2 or 3 times a week is helping a lot, both with my body and my spirit. It's the best form of physical therapy for me.

I'll post something next week when we get the preliminary reports from the CT scans, and then again the following week once we talk with the final doctor. After that you'll have to tune in to a road trip blog to catch news of this ramblin' man.

Clem