Friday, 2/4 -- Another stay in the hospital. -- Hey, where did that gorilla come from?

From Tuesday until late Thursday evening I had another unpleasant stay in the hospital.

The chemo drugs had beaten me down hard enough that I presented myself as a very sick person to the doctors. They admitted me to the hospital for many reasons.
My blood levels had dropped.
I was physically weaker than I should have been.
Hard, deep cough.
Out of breath while sitting still.
Back pain increased and more constant.
Numbness in limbs.
And so much more!

I went for an immediate CAT Scan to make sure I didn't have blood clots in my lungs or pneumonia. That came back negative. Since they had the new scans they did a new evaluation of my disease.

The results showed that the chemo had no effect, positive or negative, against the cancer.

To help my physical symptoms they increased my steroids.
I also got two units of blood. That's a new one. I was able to avoid it in the past, but I'm now at the point where I can't avoid these things. It freaked me out, but I've been through so much it seemed silly to object.

So where is all this going? What's the plan?
I've been receiving chemotherapy since July. That's over 7 months of harsh, poisonous chemicals being injected into my body. It's medicine, but it's not good medicine. The human body can only tolerate so much poison before it becomes permanently damaging. More drugs would do only harm.

The body can only take so much disease before it gives out too. Same concept.

We're using this week to see how I respond to not having chemo drugs in my system. If I get strong again, we can possibly start a different set of drugs. (I insisted that we not use these past drugs again, and my doctor agreed.)

If my condition continues to be poor, or worsens... then that could be a sign that I can't take any more chemo.

Yes, that means what you think it means.
Let me introduce you to the 600 pound gorilla that's been sitting in the room that no one has been talking about.
We could be near the "cross roads" where they can't do anything more for me.

It's not a fact.
It's not the current decision.
It's not the current plan.
It's not yet reality.
But the concept is now on the table.

I'm still staying positive and aggressive. Nothing has changed. I'm not giving anything up. I'm not giving in a single inch.

My medical team is not giving up on anything either. We're all fighting this together. I know they care about me more than their average patient. I can see it in their eyes when we talk. I am special to them. But they have to keep the reality of the situation in focus, and advise me appropriately. That's their job, after all.

We, with your help, will continue to fight this deadly disease with everything we can muster. Our goal is to win.

However, the 600 pound gorilla is here and we can't ignore him any longer. Despite all our best efforts, I may not die of old age.

The only thing in the world to blame for that is cancer. Nothing else is to blame.

It's been a shitty, shitty week.

Six more weeks of winter...

Wishing you all a warm and joyous Groundhog's Day! (Boo, Phil! Boo!)
"Talk" to you all soon...
-Lyn & Eric

P.S. As EJ has so astutely observed... the photo of the worshippers above are of the Western sect of the Cult of Phil. (Our prairie dog bretheren to the west are known as "groundhogs" you know, but notice the pudgy tailess girth of their idol.) For you Easterners who are speciesist followers of Phil, we give you the following:


All hail Phil! :)

Tuesday, 2/1 -- Answers would be nice.

Today we're off to the doctor's office.

Good news, bad news. I just want some news.
We want a lot of answers.

Maybe we won't get them. Maybe we're flirting with disaster.

Sunday, 1/30 -- This one could hurt.

These past two weeks have been very dark for us. As I've mentioned in previous days' postings that this round of chemotherapy has not been kind to me. It has been rough on the both Lyn and I. She continues to be an amazing inspiration. She cares for me in every sense of the word.

Granted, there are a lot of side effects that I have NOT had to endure with this bug juice. For that I am grateful. But the side effects that I have had to endure have been enough to make things harder than they've been for a while.

I am very physically weak. That leads to all kinds of complications.
Limited mobility.
Lack of energy to care for myself.
Muscle aches from lack of use.
Back tends to be more sore because it's not being exercised or stretched.

Mentally, it reeks havoc.
The knowledge of the disease having "grown" a little makes every ache and pain a new tumor. Every cough is the cancer taking its next step. (Is this true? Who knows?)
Feeling weakened means that I'm not strong enough to fight it. That scares us more than anything.
Spiraling cycle of dread and stress and despair and worry and crying and fear and rage and frustration and and and and....

I know in the past that I haven't spent too much time dwelling on the dark side of things on this blog. That's because I have been very positive about this fight. My honest thoughts are in every one of these postings. You've been witness to my frame of mind.

Many of you have told me how I inspire you with my outlook, my desire to fight, my strength and resolve. I appreciate it. But I hope we don't miss the point.

But let's not forget.
Let's not pretend.
Let's not lose sight of what's going on here.

And let's get ourselves prepared,
myself prepared,
that the end result of all this:
philosophy
energy
positively
research
prayer
meditation
concentration
devotion
exploration
friendship
togetherness
medication
science
power
teamwork
support
caring
miracles
karma
and LOVE...

may be very well be my death.

That kind of stops you in your tracks now doesn't it?