Pretty Good News!

As mentioned before, the life of a cancer patient is a bit of a roller-coaster. We’re told we’re fine, then later diagnostics bring new treatments and concerns. We learn of new “lesions” and tackle them with new weaponry, giving ourselves more time to enjoy life before the next discovery that raises alarms. On my personal Journey, we commonly refer to various levels of artillery to battle the enemy.

It appears that these latest artillery shells have been successful in beating back the liver lesions. In conversations with both the radiologist who did the work and my oncologist, I’m told that some of the “veinous lesions” that resemble spider webs have disappeared. The others, though not gone, have not grown and appear to just be lying there, making no progress. “We’ll keep an eye on them with future MRI scans, but for now you should resume all normal activity.”

When I replied that I should neither jump for joy nor be depressed, Dr. Bauer suggested that I was wrong. “If you don’t jump for joy now, you apparently didn’t understand how serious the situation was in the fall when we began the latest round of chemo-embolizations.” “These five treatments have completely altered the situation in your liver.”

No, I guess I didn’t really grasp how challenging the situation was last October when we discovered the spider webs. Without treatment, they could have grown significantly by now, suggests Dr. Chang (my oncologist) and I wouldn’t be looking at a return to work on Monday.

So, then…YIPPEE!! I’m going to celebrate with an afternoon cocktail. Tomorrow, it is supposed to be sunny in Portland, 72 degrees, and I’m playing golf at Pumpkin Ridge (http://www.pumpkinridge.com) with a good friend to continue the celebration before I return to work on Monday the 4th. There is nothing to indicate that I’m “out of the woods” or “in complete remission.” If that was a goal for any readers, I suppose they’ll be a bit disappointed. Odds are good this will never “go away” from my life.

Since I’m the guy riding the roller-coaster, I’ll smile at the world as I pass by, and just wait for the next round of diagnostics in sixty days. We’ll remain hopeful that it will go well. If we find new challenges, we’ll tackle them with the appropriate artillery and continue chasing crappy cells from my system. I’m reminded by both specialists that there is a possibility of cancer cells expanding beyond the realm of my liver and into other areas and organs. That has not taken place, either, so I’m going to look at summer as a time of complete relaxation.

For now, though, TCTFO!

The best news, of all of this, is the impact it should have on “those great kids.” Nate has secured employment back in Colorado and is preparing to return in May. He’ll join a resort corporation that is stable and very positive, so he can quit worrying about me and the economy while he devotes himself to this new situation. Lizzy and Vickie have final tests and papers due. Rather than wondering “how’s Dad doing?” or “what are we going say about THESE results?” they can concentrate on their tasks at hand, relaxed in the knowledge that Daddy is doing well, having put this latest series of treatments to good use. Billy, with only ONE class remaining towards his Masters’ degree, can take a deep breath and just be a newlywed again, without having to be the amazingly supportive counselor that he’s been for Liz during all this.

The rest of us, we’ll just keep having fun.