Cancer is a Binary Number

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Summary

Today was Day 1 of Cycle 2, after this four more to go, on three, or possibly four, week intervals. Good news is that WE HAVE PARTIAL RESPONSE!  PR is the first major milestone looked for, it means the cancer is responding to the treatment. Doc L thinks all upper body nodes are back to normal, and the big one in my left, uh, "pelvis" is way down. At one point it was about the size of three golf balls, now it's more like one.

Next milestone is Complete Response or CR, meaning we've found the Holy Grail of remission. Last time, that came after four cycles, followed by a bone marrow biopsy to confirm, then two more cycles of "consolidation" chemo, which is basically insurance. Cancer treatments follow my own personal mantra, "What's worth doing is worth overdoing."

Tomorrow, a 2 hour treatment, Thursday the NuLasta shot, then hope I don't repeat the truly disabling fatigue I felt on Friday-Sunday last time. I did not repeat the bad Rituxan reaction I has last time, so I'm hoping I avoid the fatigue thing also.

Zen and the Art of Living With Cancer

Cancer is a weird disease, socially speaking. As the title says, it's kind of a 1 or 0 thing. Generally, you have it or you don't. You are in remission or you're not. You're talking about it or you're hiding it. (Ed. Note: there are "indolent" cancers that don't follow this rule, also the "watchful waiting" approach doesn't follow this model either. So exercising blatant editorial license, I'm ignoring them for this philosophical dissertation).

In your family, work, and social life, you feel like a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde; schizo, multiple personality character. I'm either Regular Kevin or Cancer Kevin.  Regular Kevin goes to work, football games, marching band shows, Publix, Lowe's, and eats out a lot. RK mows the lawn, fixes whats broken around the house, and pretty much does the regular stuff.

Cancer Kevin writes blogs, researches treatments daily, plans RK activities around chemo cycles, talks frankly with friends who ask about it, helps newbies into the process, and tries not to listen the gibbering voices down in Reptile Brain Stem who haunt quiet moments with thoughts of death and dying. 

Regular Kevin worries about his 401K and wonders if it will be enough for a nice retirement in 2022. CK reads the fine print on life insurance policies, moves money from 401K to IRA's to make estate matters easier, and teaches his kids about the kludges that make the house run in case he's not around to do it. "Long Term Planning" is 4 years, not 40 for CK.

Many people live this way, moving through the real world while also living in Cancer Land. Even those who are in remission, or even cured, spend a part of each day thinking about their experience, and fearfully poking the places where relapse might show up first.

It is totally weird to be going through treatments, worrying if they will work, while dealing with broken appliances and weed eaters. My brain works on two parallel tracks, one dealing with every day crisis, the other part evaluating the effects of household decisions on the big picture.

Don't get me wrong. Living as normal a life as possible at home, work, and socially, IS WHAT KEEPS US GOING. Sitting around in misery pit, unstructured and drifting, is no way to live. Last time I learned a valuable lesson. Converting the binary, two track, schizoid lives into a single, productive, integrated, open, positive lifestyle is maybe the single most important thing a cancer patient can do other than showing up for treatments.

Horrible Bad Cancer Joke Of The Post - STOP READING HERE

I'm moving off my primary source, The Furry Monkey , and tried to find a new source. Most had the same jokes as all the others, nothing new. Then I found one, that was so tacky even I wouldn't post them!

So here's a real change. It's a horrible epilepsy joke from a cancer joke forum, with a twist. I'm not saying epilepsy is funnier than cancer, and I don't know anyone who has it to tell me if they have their own joke genre, but this one at least has the advantage of being in horrible taste AND twisted!

Bad Cancer Forum Post: "I was telling that joke about "What do you do if there's an epileptic in your bathtub" (You know: "Throw in your laundry." Ha, ha.), and a teary-eyed guy poked me on the shoulder and said, "You know, mister, that's not funny at all. My son was an epileptic and died in the bathtub."

I was very embarrassed, apologized and asked about his son. I found out he was only six. I asked if he'd bumped his head before he drowned or something, and the man said, "No, he choked on a sock."

Yours in the Yin and Yang of Cancer, 

God Bless You All,

Kevin