The Break Continues!
Good news on the cancer treatment front: I saw Dr. Lee yesterday to get the results of my latest tumor marker, and we agreed that my break from treatment can continue.
So, except for a jammed N key on my laptop, I am one very happy cancer patient. Having to stop and slam the N key every time I need it does interfere with the flow of my writing, but I'm hoping Older Son will be available this evening to help me fix it. Otherwise, it's off to the computer store.
It is now two and one half months since I last had treatment, and I continue to flourish--more energy, more enthusiasm for life, a clearer head ... it's wonderful. Even my stress is under control. I've dropped a couple of the meds that I was taking to control side effects (meds for high blood pressure caused by the Avastin, for example), which is also great.
For those of you who want the medical details, read on. If you're not interested, stop here.
My tumor marker was stable from the last time I had it drawn at my new cancer center, which is good news. The PET scan, however, showed some "disease progression." That means that several tumors in my bones (I only have bone mets) are lighting up hotter on the PET than they did on the last couple of scans.
So the two tests are somewhat contradictory. We could jump all over this and put me back on treatment, but I need this break, and Dr. Lee understands this. During our fairly lengthy but relaxed conversation, he said it was up to me (LOVE IT), but his recommendation was to wait for symptoms. These would include pain, and I don't have any pain in the spots where the mets are, or danger of a broken bone. None of these spots is large enough to break a bone right now.
This decision wouldn't work for everyone. It isn't even the decision I would have made a few years ago, when my response to any signs of disease was, basically, "Nuke it!" But that was when I was still hoping for a long-term remission, and that's not very likely at this point.
I am willing--actually, eager--to live with active disease because I so badly want this break from treatment to continue. So, for now, watch and wait and continue to enjoy the summer.
Read more:
@ Jeanne Sather 2007.
I am still in the "nuke it" phase (and my body is a blast zone as a result), but it is oddly comforting to me to hear that you've reached a sort of understanding (I can't say peace, I don't think) with your body that you find great joy in the break. There is a grace about this which is calming to me, and though I'm sure there are many days when you feel less than graceful or calm (because you're human, and that's just the way humans are) your grace offers me hope that one day, should it arise, I too will be able to find the pure joy of a break. I know this wasn't a part of your life's original plans or dreams, but you are living well, and I am glad to see it. Thank you for sharing.
Posted by: Kristina | July 12, 2007 at 01:05 PM
Good for you. I hope it lasts and lasts, and that you can keep living it up, emphasis on the "living," for a good long time.
Posted by: Sara | July 13, 2007 at 08:17 AM
I am glad for you that the break continues. Lately, I have been moaning about having had a really rare form of cancer and not having people who inherently get that because the rehab, radiation side effects etc have been so much more protracted than everything else for me. However, your post reminds me that what all cancer patients REALLY have in common is that the treatments are often worse than the disease. I am so glad that your body is getting to have a break from those treatments. Enjoy it.
Posted by: Lisa | July 13, 2007 at 01:36 PM
Thank you all. I am sitting here sniveling a bit because I have friends (the three of you and a few more) who get this.
Lisa--I know EXACTLY what you mean. People think you are DONE, right? So you should just move on, while the truth is there is still a lot to cope with.
And Kristina--that "nuke it" phase is so tough, but then what are the alternatives? We just do the best we can and whine and bitch and complain to the friends who understand how tough it is.
In the same way that my being comfortable in the break is calming to you, knowing that the decisions are still mine to make, even that I can choose not to go on with this at any point, is calming to me.
Sara--more gardening posts and photos to share, once I get this damn keyboard fixed.
Posted by: Jeanne | July 13, 2007 at 02:06 PM
I have been enjoying a break from treatment for 10 weeks now--how sweet it is! After 7 months of chemo w/Avastin, I will now be getting Avastin infusions only, sometime next month. Previously I had a picc-line, which required weekly maintenance. I couldn't wait to get that thing ripped out! Taking my first shower since October was heaven! (We cancer patients have simple needs).
I have had mets for five years, and I have been fortunate to have long treatment breaks, my last chemo being 3 years ago (aside from having RFA twice and a liver re-section attempt). Treatment repulses me, and I have always resisted it, and my doctor, though quite agressive with treatment, has now adopted the philosophy that quality of life is very important. Treatment has been saved for when it is really needed, (palliative care), and so far it has been a good strategy. Fortunately, I feel very healthy and am living a great life. But the tension of not wanting to do treatment and the feeling of impending doom if I don't, drives me crazy. I don't think that will ever go away.
Posted by: Doreen | July 20, 2007 at 08:25 AM