Ken Billett – Writer

Lucky Number 13

June 11, 2021— For centuries, the number thirteen (13) has been considered unlucky, which developed an irrational fear of the number and anything associated with it. Some historians trace the stigma of “13” back to Judas Iscariot—think Last Supper—the biblical betrayer of Christ. Others note the fear may be attributed to October 13, 1307 when the Knights Templar were rounded up and imprisoned—or worse.

That date fell on a Friday, leading to the Friday the 13th superstition, along with a series of really terrible horror movies in the 1980s and 90s.

Lucky Number 13

On Thursday, June 10th, the date of my 13th infusion, we received some good news—some really good news: my tumors have shrunk anywhere from 10% (in my lungs) to 20% in and around my right adrenal gland.

Vicki and I were ecstatic. Now, after almost nine (9) months of treatment, Keytruda (my immunotherapy medicine) was beginning to turn-the-tide in the battle against my metastatic melanoma.

In addition, my oncologist told us that my lab work looked fantastic. The results, in his words, were like a “normal person’s.” I assumed he meant someone not undergoing cancer treatment. 

A Long Way to Go

While this is great news, we still have a long way to go. Thursday’s CT scan was the first one I’ve had since February (which showed no change), so, for now, we’ll continue immunotherapy treatments and monitor my blood work.

Bittersweet Morning

Even with all that good news, it was a bittersweet morning. My oncologist announced that he’d taken a new position—heading up a cancer center in Reno, Nevada—and would soon leave the West Cancer Center. While we’re sad to see him go, we know we’ll be in good hands with a new oncologist.

Sharing My Journey Story

In a weird coincidental twist, on Wednesday (June 9th), the West Center posted my melanoma journey story to their Facebook feed and on their website.

I received several FB comments of encouragement and support from strangers who are either West Center patients or their loved ones. As I wrote in a recent essay (see below), my goal with continuing to share my story is to provide hope and/or inspiration for others fighting cancer.

With Good Fortune Comes Greater Responsibility

So, after Thursday’s good news, my good fortune continues. I write that not with glee or contentment. I write it (repeatedly) to remind myself that there is so much more work to be done. So many goals I want to accomplish. So many people I want to help—directly and indirectly.

On June 4th, StoryBoard Memphis published my latest personal essay, Happy Birthday, Spiderman.  While the initial focus of the essay was about my birthday and the joy I feel celebrating another trip around the sun with my family and friends, it was also much more about the burden I carry—like many other cancer survivors—to never forget those who were less fortunate. Here’s a quote:

Sharing my journey story is both cathartic and purposeful. Those of us who are still in this fight remember all those who were less fortunate. Our grief and frustration are channeled into meaningful causes and activities. Ultimately, we want to change current behaviors, raise awareness, and stem the tide of suffering and pain.

I use my good fortune to help others whom, like me, have been saddled with this dreadful diagnosis. An advocate for skin cancer prevention and melanoma research, I volunteer with non-profit organizations by fundraising, lending my voice through personal testimonials and op-ed columns, mentoring other late-stage melanoma patients, engaging congressional staffers on the merits of upcoming appropriation bills (to fund more research), and, finally, by analyzing research proposals as a patient member of scientific review panels.

In my own words? With good fortune comes greater responsibility.

When you get the opportunity, go back and the read my story—either on Facebook or on StoryBoard Memphis. Thanks.

And, as always, thanks for listening.

Note:  If you want to leave a comment, just choose “Anonymous” from the Profile Selection drop down bar right below the Comment box. (It’s the very last choice.) Sorry for any confusion.

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Writer’s Note – I’ll continue to update my blog on a periodic basis. No set schedule. So, I want to thank everyone who continues to stop by and check out my blog. Please leave a comment or message; I’d love to hear from you. 

‘Some Pretty Good News’

December 3, 2020 – My oncologist walked into the examination room and, as he sat down, proclaimed, “Well…we have some pretty good news.”

Yes, I’m smiling.

The good news? Today’s CT scan showed that one of the tumors in my lungs had a 30 to 40 percent reduction. The other key lung tumor remained just about the same, and the tumor/blood mass around my right adrenal gland stayed pretty much the same. Yes, pretty good news indeed.

A Systematic Boost

Immunotherapy medicines, such as Keytruda, are meant to boost the body’s natural immune system in order to fight cancer–melanoma, in my case. These medicines, however, can have some serious side effects. My blood work showed that I am tolerating this new drug fairly well. That is another bit of good news!

Another Round on Me

A grumpy old man.

Today was also my fourth round of treatment (infusion). The immunotherapy infusion process is fairly quick and easy. As I stated in Science, Real Science, the preparation process takes longer than the infusion. Today, however, the West Cancer Center was on-the-ball, so we were in and out in less than four hours. 

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

While my lab work showed good tolerance of Keytruda, my body’s response has been all over the place. I have really good days – lots of energy with little pain – and I have some really bad days when I’m unable to do much without a lot of effort. Fortunately, I’ve only had a couple of “ugly” episodes. My hope is that those episodes are few and far between.

I’ll trade the fatigue, lethargy, minor pain, and everything else if it means my cancer is under-control.

On wings of hope.

New Year…New Hope?

Finally, 2020 has been a helluva year – to say the least. My hope is that everything gets better, or back to ‘normal’ or something. It’s got to be better than what we have right now.

I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and a Happy New Year. I plan to. And I plan to celebrate many more New Years to come.

Thanks, as always, for listening.



Note:  If you want to leave a comment, just choose “Anonymous” from the Profile Selection drop down bar right below the Comment box. (It’s the very last choice.) Sorry for any confusion.

Also, please make sure you leave your name or sign-in somewhere in your comment. Thanks.

Writer’s Note – I’ll continue to update my blog on a periodic basis. No set schedule. So, I want to thank everyone who continues to stop by and check out my blog. Please leave a comment or message; I’d love to hear from you. 


Owner of a Lonely Heart

June 22, 2019 – Six months ago I was lying in a hospital bed wondering, “What the hell happened?”

Honestly, I knew what had happened – I had a heart attack! Actually, I had several heart attacks – myocardial infarctions – over a twenty-four hour period. It was surreal. I wasn’t supposed to have heart problems. I have plenty of issues with Stage IV cancer, so no one – myself included – was focused on my heart.

My doctors monitored my cholesterol numbers – good, but not great – and my liver values (also pretty good and stable). My heart? That was something obese people or older people worried about. Not me.

So my melanoma journey diverged to become a health journey. I not only had metastatic melanoma and any recurring skin cancers to worry about; now, I had heart problems to keep me up at night.

Once again, I was fortunate. There was no damage to my heart from the 100% blockage of my right coronary artery (RCA). My new cardiologist put a stent in my RCA and, less than 24 hours later, I went home. My release from the hospital gave new meaning to I’ll Be Home for Christmas.

Note – Here’s the link to the original post about my heart attack: All I Want for Christmas Is…

Christmas and New Years came and went. By mid-January, I was slowly adjusting to my new daily pill regimen. The meds did their job and my cholesterol significantly decreased.

At the end of January, a thirty-six session cardio rehab stint began (see Heart Update at the bottom of Status Quo). Three times a week I spent an hour riding exercise bikes, walking on treadmills, and getting my heart rhythms monitored. Rehab grudgingly became a good routine. After almost three solid months of consistent exercise, I was feeling pretty good and looking okay. (Still need to lose another 5 – 10 pounds.)

Rehab ended in early May and my heart grew lonely (hence the title of this post). Not really. But I did miss the routine and the normalcy of rehab. The steady exercise was good for my heart and, surprisingly, my soul. During that period, I realized that I still have it in me to change. That’s the key – to want it. I have to continue to motivate myself to stay healthy.

The rest of May was hectic for us. A couple of trips along with time at the beach. My cardio routine was broken and it’s taken awhile to get it back. Sometimes good beer and good food will do that.

So, I’m now the owner of a lonely heart. It’s mine and it’s up to me to keep it beating. Like the lyrics of the original Yes song: You’ve got to want to succeed.

Miss Susan grows some beautiful irises.

Melanoma Update – In early June I had my six-month CT scan and blood work. Everything was virtually the same as last November. No new tumors and my existing tumors remain stable and unchanged. Great news! My dermatologist took an additional margin on my back (Ouch!) which turned out to be benign. Also, great news! (See Wake-Up Call for details.)

Heart Update – Nothing new to report (other than what you read above). I’ve been having some issues with excessive heat and humidity. Who doesn’t? I see my cardiologist at the end of July. Hope he has some answers.

Thanks for stopping by.

Note:  If you want to leave a comment, just choose “Anonymous” from the Profile Selection drop down bar right below the Comment box. (It’s the very last choice.)  Sorry for any confusion.


Also, please make sure you leave your name or sign-in somewhere in your comment.  Thanks.

Writer’s Note – I’ll continue to update my blog on a periodic basis.  No set schedule.  So, I want to thank everyone who continues to stop by and check out my blog. Please leave a comment or message; I’d love to hear from you.

Someone to Watch Over Me

Week Four
Tuesday, September 17, 2013

After four weeks of treatment, I’m actually feeling pretty good. I saw my doctor last week (on September 11th), and he said that it’s not unusual for patients to tolerate Gleevec  (my oral chemotherapy medicine) with only minimal side effects. Most of my initial side effects have seemed to wane, and I’m hoping that is a good sign. My blood and glucose levels were normal or, at least, in the acceptable range. Now, I will be on this medication for about another thirty days.

On October 9th, I will have a CT scan performed. We will immediately look at the results that day to determine if my tumors have grown or stayed the same. My doctor did tell me that it typically takes 3 to 4 months for tumors to shrink when treated with Gleevec. So, what we’re hoping to see is that my tumors have not changed or grown. I’m glad I have people much smarter than me monitoring my cancer. It’s a blessing to have some many folks “in my corner” as I continue my journey with melanoma, which brings me to today’s thoughts on being watched over.

***

Spending a lot of time at home has been both a blessing and a curse. Luckily, I have not had to endure being at home by myself. I have a shadow – literally – who follows my every move. Nixie, our six-year-old Border Collie has always been my constant companion. Now that I’m home more, it’s a given that I will be continually watched over or “guarded.”

Who’s watching over you?

If you know anything about Border Collies then you know that they are highly intelligent, extremely focused dogs who fixate on their work with the intensity of a sixteen-year-old video game fanatic. These dogs also have boundless energy and a fervor for completing a job that would make any office manager jealous. Prior to last month, Nixie’s “job” was to chase balls and catch Frisbees. As long as Nix – as we call her – was busy then everything was fine. If we didn’t keep her busy, or give her enough exercise, there was “heck to pay.”

Now, her job is to watch over me…at least that’s what she thinks she is supposed to do. Nix is almost always by my side while I’m at home or outside in the yard. When I return home from running errands or from an appointment, she greets me as though I’ve come back from a long journey. I know most dogs are like this, but Nixie’s intensity has seem to grow ever since my diagnosis. Does she sense that something is wrong? Is it true that dogs can tell when their owners are ailing? I don’t know, but I do know that I’ve got a four-legged family member in my corner as I deal with my cancer.

In fact, I would think that everyone would want to have someone or something watching out for them. Whether or not you’re a spiritual person, there’s something comforting knowing that you’re being watched over…even if it’s a sometimes neurotic, always attentive thirty-eight pound fluff-ball.

And the journey continues…..

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Week Two

Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Not much new to report this week. As I mentioned in an earlier post (see School Daze), we took Emily back to college this weekend, and the heat along with the meds took their toll on me. That’s been one of the more frustrating aspects of dealing with my cancer – I don’t know what is affecting me: the tumors or the medicine. I discussed in the Week One post that Gleevec has several side effects, which may manifest themselves in different ways. Unfortunately for me, I also have some other ailments that may or may not be “masked” by these side effects.  So, it gets frustrating trying to figure out which ailment is a side effect and which is something unrelated to my cancer.

Say “Hello” to my little friend


(Note: I find it interesting as this newest phase of my journey continues, that I am now able to say “my cancer.”  Prior to that I was saying that I was “very sick.” Perhaps that’s a sign that I’m acknowledging my situation and not running from it.)

The worst side effect so far has been the fatigue, which may impact my ability to volunteer and work outside of the house. I will continue taking Gleevec for the remainder of this month. On September 11th, the doctors will analyze my blood to see if my “counts” are in order and I’m not in danger of liver failure or internal bleeding. I also have occasional chest pains that, according to the nurse, may be the cancer or another side effect of the medicine.

As always, thanks for listening.

Note:  If you want to leave a comment, just choose “Anonymous” from the Profile Selection drop down bar right below the Comment box. (It’s the very last choice.)  Sorry for any confusion.

Writer’s note: I’ve been on a brief hiatus since before Labor Day.  You’ll see several posts today and tomorrow as I play catch-up.

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Ken Billett – Grumpy Bear Writing © 2021