Monday, July 20, 2009

50/50 now 60/40

Today my odds got better but the scenario got scarier. And then, yet another possibility opened up. Met with my Oncologist today Dr Arlene Sierfker-Radtke. Wow. Another straight shooter who let me know in no uncertain terms that I'm dealing with a very serious, very nasty form of cancer. I'm looking at the following scenario: 4 rounds of chemo in two months with the last one taking place on August 31st. Then a six week wait until I'm well enough to have the bladder/prostate surgery. After the surgery they will do another biopsy looking for even microscopic cancer cells. If they find them--and here's where the odds went up in my favor from an earlier 50/50 to 60/40--then the cancer is considered incurable. Historically, within 18 months new cancers will appear in random places and that will be all he wrote.

If the chemo gets what's there now--all of it--then they scan me monthly for 18 months to see if any cancers appear. If none appear, I go up to 80/20. If I get five years out, I'm considered cured. Okay that's the scary part. I can look forward to a day in October when I'll awake in the recovery room with or without a more or less imminent death sentence. Except....

Dr Arlene is running a clinical trial for an FDA approved (for other cancers) drug called Avastin. She has had 27 patients in this trial for about two years, I think. I signed on. If I can do anything to help others who have this condition then I feel very strongly about doing it.

So I was talking with the nurse who is managing the trial for the drug company who is providing Avastin. She told me that if I get bad news after the surgery she can offer me the option of continuing with the Avastin on a monthly basis. It does not have the deleterious side effects of other chemos. Essentially once a month I go to MDA for an overnight visit. She told me that three people had been offered the option. Two turned it down, preferring to take their chances. However, one person, a 70 year old woman with my diagnosis had accepted the option and is still tumor free after a year, feels great and is living a vibrant life.

That's my story so far. A little more apprehension today than yesterday. But also a lot more clarity. I should be able to work, to meet clients around my chemo schedule and the surgery schedule. I'll probably regain my high spirits again after a few nights good sleep. My equanimity is pretty good right now. Nothing bad is happening in this moment. In fact, just reaching out to all of you and feeling you reach back is very sustaining.

Saw a t-shirt at Zen Center one day that helped me put all this in perspective. It said:
Eat right. Exercise. Meditate. Still die.

I'm okay. I'm okay with this. And I love you all.

Phil


3 comments:

  1. You're wonderful.

    Someday I'll tell you the whole poem:

    Are there stones that hurt your feet...

    (I got it on a card at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine (NYC) when I was 18.)

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  2. If you don't have a Google account (which is a fine way to habitat earth), then you can comment as "anonymous"(at the bottom of the "jump menu" below the comment box) and if you like, just sign your name (or not).

    Kim

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  3. Phil, the positive energy you feel coming your way is the return on the investment you've made in so many lives. Some band said something like, "and in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make." You have a bountiful harvest to reap now, my friend.

    Mike

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