Lazy Update

I should have written more, before this...Life has been pretty busy since we got the good news, and I can make all kinds of excuses about enjoying myself. So today I'm committing a little "time sheet theft" and writing at work.

Right after July 4, I met Billy & Liz in upstate New York for our trip to the Baseball Hall of Fame. We had a wonderful time together, and though the Hall didn't have nearly as much "stuff" as I thought they may have accumulated, it was still a visit of a lifetime. Of course they had uniforms from Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb and the early greats, but they also had Jon Lester's cleats from last year's no-hitter that we attended. There were some odd spots...they have baseballs signed for every no hitter since about 1930, but none for the Don Larson perfect game. They had the "asterisk" ball that Barry Bonds hit out to beat Henry Aaron's record, but not nearly enough historiana from the successful Giants days. ("Were there any," we A's and Dodger fans ask?) Neat stuff about the Big Red Machine and the A's of the middle seventies, but no pine-tar baseball from Georgie Brett. (You remember him, the shortstop from El Segundo that Lompoc beat in the 1970 CIF Finals.)

More importantly, it was a terrific time to hang out with Liz and Billy. Whether we enjoyed cocktails on the deck, just tossing around a baseball or playing tennis together, the times are a reminder of what wonderful young people they have become. They spent more time in the Hall than I did, frankly, given that they are even bigger baseball fans.

Billy is only one class from his Masters' degree, Lizzie is applying this summer for entry into the PhD program at Maryland. They were each invited to stand for friends in weddings on the weekends that bookended my visit, and remain very busy with their lives away from school. We even rode the "Maid of the Mist" to see Niagara Falls, and loved it. Can't wait to spring my sexy rain gear on Hallowe'en parties down the road...!

A quick week of work, and then off to Baker City to play in the Miners' Jubilee tournament. This is a two-day event, with two-man scramble teams sharing efforts toward success. Without a blow-by-blow, one that would bore non-golfers and make golfers beg for more, here are the highlights:

First nine holes, we made two bogies, no birdies. Cranky, we lipped out some birdies, and were not having nearly enough fun. Tenth hole: Little Billy Schlager makes a hole-in-one!!! His first, lifetime. The good guys are back to even par, miraculously. More fun than someone ought to be able to have on a golf course, honestly.

Final nine holes: we reel off four birdies on some great shots and long putts, to finish the day four under. In the hunt, but not atop the leaderboard of 60 teams.

Final 18 on Sunday: Can't remember when I've hit my irons better. We dialed in the SkyCaddie and confidently fired at pins all day. With two birdies on the final two holes, the '71 Braves hopped over the field and WON the Miners' Jubilee. Six under for the day, bringing us to minus ten. Billy and I shared the effort, though the glory goes to the Ace...and get to share significant winnings, as well. The best part, though, is that when we return next year, we'll know we've won the darn thing in the past and we can simply relax and enjoy ourselves. Give others a turn.

No calls to the emergency room, no embarrassing moments. Pretty grim when that sort of reporting needs to be included; but with the gatherings that take place, I feel it is a must. We'll return to the Jubilee next July, since we'll be playing with "house money" for our entry fees...

A return to work, and perhaps the most significant proposal presentation of the last two years. The clinic manager tells me that we did well, the docs have a few more questions, but that we should be talking further. If ever you wanted to cross your fingers for a non-medical topic, this is one of them. Save prayers, though, for the really important stuff in life, which we've all come to realize is NOT tied to work, or even the golf course.

I can't tell you how much I appreciate the kind words and wonderful thoughts I've received in the past few weeks. We'll keep kicking the bad guys as hard as we can, and with everyone's support the little skirmishes will never turn into a full-fledged battle again.

Goodness!

This past week has been a bit of a struggle. Although I try to not talk about it much, or pester others, waiting for test results is nervewracking. Hard to ignore what might come out. And I've been doing all I can to avoid Farrah Fawcett news, because she's looked so awful lately...and every article suggests "metastasized to her liver" which isn't a neat phrase. I feel badly for her family, and try to simply avoid the news. There, but for the grace of God, go I.

Then, things perk up a little, because Tuesday was the day to go get my results....

For now, it was the best report that could have been possible from my oncologist. After a really crappy conversation in October of 2007, and again last fall when we discovered more than a "surface lesion," Tuesday was the complete opposite. Dr. Chang said several things; those I wrote down included:

“I’ve referred six or seven patients with the same level of metastasis to Dr. Bauer, you have had the best response”

“Frankly, I’m surprised at the level of impact that those infusions have had…..”

“It isn’t all positive. There is always the chance that other cancerous cells have found their way to different organs, so we’ll schedule a PET scan to make sure it is as good as we think at this point.”

I asked him what he’d call this in his notes. (My work helps me understand how critical the patient file is to treatment planning, future recommendations, and diagnostic staging.) “Am I stable?” “Should I have concerns about anything in particular and change either my diet or my habits?”

“Mark, I think we’re fine to use the term ‘clinical remission’ to describe your current state, so that’s what my note will say.”

In case you’re looking for a medical definition:

Remission: A disappearance of a disease as a result of treatment. Complete remission means that all disease is gone. Partial remission means that the disease is significantly improved by treatment, but residual traces of the disease are still present.

I would think that I have residual traces, because they are visible on the scans. However, nothing is metabolically active, and cancer cells aren’t known to just sit there quietly. They are known for growing, at too rapid a pace, if anything scary is going on. My ‘residuals’ are lying quietly and not going anywhere, in fact still dying off. Hence the ‘clinical remission” definition. TCTFO!! We've gone from all square in this match, to at least "one up."

I'll close with a little secret. For more than three years, I've worn (and worn out) my little yellow 'LiveSTRONG' bracelet. When I'm actively undergoing treatment, the wording faces me. It serves as a reminder that there is always hope. It gives me strength, helps me through some of the tough mornings in the shower, because I put it back on and can read the lettering as it faces me.

When I'm not 'in treatment' I turn it the other direction. Shows my support for others, because one of the most amazing things I've learned on this Journey is that there are a LOT of us out there. People will share things over coffee, they'll tell me about their loved ones in email, they'll call and ask questions when they may have received a rotten diagnosis. I want all these other nice people to be able to read my wrist, for pehaps it will help with their personal journey.

Today, if I try to read it the bracelet is upside down...

Next time, perhaps another little secret. I'll be back east with Liz and Bill for their anniversary and our trip to the Baseball Hall of Fame. Last year's treatments pushed back their wedding present, but we may celebrate more than their second anniversary while we're together!!