2020 – We Deserve a Happy Ending

December 29, 2020 – SiriusXM is set to B.B. King’s Bluesville. I’m driving east on Neshoba Road, headed to the Germantown Community Library to return several books. The volume’s slightly low, so I’m not really listening. I’m a bit distracted. As I stop at the traffic light on Germantown Parkway, I catch part of the lyrics to We Deserve a Happy Ending by The Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band. We Deserve...is basically a love song (in spite of the odd music video), but the song’s title sums up exactly my sentiments about 2020 and – most importantly – about my family.

Men at work.

A Nice, Simple Christmas

As I said a few moments ago, I was a bit distracted driving to the library. An hour earlier, Zach, our son, hit the road to return to his apartment in Midtown Atlanta. He’s lived and worked in Atlanta for the last three years. It was an emotional goodbye. Zach had been with us for almost eleven days – the most we’ve been together as a family since before Zach graduated from Georgia Tech (2018).

So Christmas 2020 was nice and simple. The four of us were content to hangout
at home and do nothing. We read a lot, played board games, occasionally watched
football, and baked goodies.
Lazy days together.

We were in our own little world, and I love it. Pandemic or not, I love the time we spent together as a family unit. It reinforced how special our being together truly is and how fortunate we are. 

‘Tis the Season

The holidays always bring out a little melancholy in me, but this year was different. Maybe it was having both Emily and Zach at home for an extended period of time. Maybe it was the realization that every holiday season the four of us spend together is a gift and I should cherish it. Maybe it’s also the reality that as our kids get older, eventually, our time spent together will change or diminish. Who knows?

‘Tis the Season

What I do know is that I wouldn’t trade spending the past several weeks – going back to Thanksgiving – with Vicki and the kids for anything.

You can have your Caribbean cruises, your Disney World excursions, your time at the beach, et al. I’ll take my family time…all the time. My family deserves everything I can give them…and time is the one thing I can still give them. I wish I could give them more of it.

We Deserve a Happy Ending

Everyone deserves a happy ending after everything we’ve endured in 2020. Vicki and the kids are no exception. Frankly, dealing with cancer is tiresome – physically, mentally, and emotionally. It’s draining. It’s draining for everyone involved, especially family and loved ones.
We’ve been through a lot, and 2020 presented us with new challenges and new worries (see The Verdict Is In). I simply want a happy ending for Vicki, Emily, and Zach.
Quiet…a bit eerie.

That’s my Christmas Wish.

Health Update: Immunotherapy Blues

It’s 7:15 Christmas Eve morning. I’m waiting on the third floor of the West Cancer Center for my lab work. My three-week infusion schedule landed on December 24th. It’s quiet in here. Empty. Kind of eerie. I’ve never seen it so empty. 

But I’m not alone. Emily is here with me. I’m thankful for that.

This is my fifth infusion of Keytruda. While my December 3rd lab results showed that my internal organs are tolerating this immunotherapy treatment (see ‘Some Pretty Good News‘), the side effects are getting the better of me.

Fatigue, tiredness, sore and weary muscles, aches and pains, constant itchiness, and neuropathy in my hands and joints. Not fun. Not fun at all. Like I mentioned a moment ago, having cancer is a drain – not only on the patient, but on those around him.

Ready for 2020 to end.

But if it keeps me going…allows me to spend more time with my family…then I’ll put up with it.

Maybe someday I’ll have a happy ending.

Happy New Year to everyone. Thanks, as always, for listening.


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‘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.



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Science, Real Science

October 23, 2020 – This afternoon, I completed my second round (infusion) of Keytruda (pembrolizumab) at West Cancer Center’s main campus. Keytruda, as I’ve explained previously, is an immunotherapy medicine – meaning it boosts the body’s natural immune defenses in order to fight cancer.

My new treatment regimen is based on science, real science. Not conspiracy theories, not voodoo doctors who believe in alien DNA, not off-the-cuff comments about drinking bleach to kill a virus. Real science.

Up the steps to the
unknown.

Immunotherapy treatments are relatively new. Keytruda was FDA-approved in 2014 and by 2017 was in use for solid metastatic tumors, like melanoma. The U.S. approval and testing process is long and somewhat complex. Clinical trials can take years to complete. 

Giving Back

I volunteer my time by working on scientific review panels that evaluate research proposals for possible funding grants. I’ve been a part of this process for a couple of years now, and it is a tremendous honor to be a “consumer advocate” and share my impressions (and concerns) with cancer doctors and researchers. This is one of the many ways I give back to the melanoma (skin cancer) community.

I want to ensure that melanoma prevention and treatment moves forward towards a potential cure and the funding of this research remains apolitical. Scientists need to be able to do their work – without threats and without undue influence.

A long day.

Infusion Blues

Although the Keytruda infusion typically lasts only thirty minutes, my October 23rd visit was over three hours. Blood work, IV insertion, oncologist visit, scheduling (and re-scheduling), waiting on lab results, pharmacy prep work, a flu shot – all took place before my infusion.

Sitting in the third-floor infusion area was both odd and sad. Memories of waiting in this area while Emily received her chemotherapy treatments brought a flood of emotions. I’ve been a stage IV cancer patient for a long time, but I’ve never had intravenous treatment. The infusion area is a dull, sterile environment. It’s sad watching folks from all walks of life undergoing treatment. We have one thing in common–however–we all have cancer.

At the same time, watching other patients hooked up to IV machines and monitors reminded me that we’re fortunate to have researchers, scientists, technicians, nurses and doctors working hard to find new and better treatment options and, maybe one day, a cure.

Real research. Real progress. Not just talking points during a political campaign.

Real science.

Thanks, as always, for listening.

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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. 

An Early Christmas Gift

December 4, 2019 – My sister-in-law said it best (via text): Woohoo! Early Christmas Present.

She was exactly right. My six-month oncology appointment at the West Cancer Center ended not with a bang but not with a whimper, either. That’s just how I like it. I initially wanted to title this post – Another Day, Another Scan. But I liked my sister-in-law’s text message better.

My cancer (metastatic melanoma) stays unchanged. The few remaining tumors have not grown – or shrunk – in size for nearly three years. That IS good news and something to celebrate. Hence the picture of Jack and Coke that accompanies this post.

‘Tis the season

Like any other child on Christmas morning, I still get excited opening a present – even if I’m pretty sure I know what’s inside. My family doesn’t know this – until they read this post – but I love to come downstairs early on Christmas morning, with the sun peeking through the living room blinds, and stare at the Christmas tree, now surrounded by gifts. For me, that moment is a perfect gift. One that I hope to continue to receive.

I still have cancer. That’s obviously a bummer, but as I’ve said many times before, I live my life and enjoy what’s here to greet me every day. Not everyone with cancer can do that. So, I’m thankful and fortunate. For me, that is also a definite gift…and one that I will never take for granted.

As always, thanks for listening. Happy Holidays!

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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.

An Emotional Morning

September 14, 2019 – Clear blue skies with a slight breeze from the North made our walk somewhat tolerable. If I could, I think I’d spend every Saturday morning walking around a lake – even a human-made one!

Vicki and I had just finished walking 3.1 miles as part of the West Cancer Center’s (**) annual Fight On event, which is held at Shelby Farms. Fight On raises money for West’s cancer research, patient services, and community outreach.

It takes a village.

Like many of these events, there was a temporary village erected in the lower-bowl of a field that sloped down to the human-made lake. Vendor tents, food, beverages, face painting, and kids’ games gave the event a carnival-like feel.

At some point in the morning, an announcer asked that all survivors and fighters gather for a ceremony and group photo. Am I survivor? I hesitated…I’m never really sure what to call myself. I joined the group as – I suppose – a fighter. Obviously, I still have cancer, but my treatment situation is so different that to most people I appear to have beaten cancer.

The group finished with recognizing those who had lost their battle and those who continue to battle cancer. It was time for the group photo. I was handed a small bell to ring. Ringing the bell has become synonymous with finishing your treatments and, hopefully, ridding yourself of cancer. I decided I was ringing the bell for our daughter, Emily, who is now cancer-free.

It was an emotional moment.

***

Vicki and I grabbed another complimentary beer, and I stood there looking out over the grassy field and the knoll that separated the lower-bowl from the upper-bowl. It was peaceful. It was calm.

Ribbons to honor and remember all those
touched by cancer.

I just stood there. Suddenly, I choked up. Vick looked at me and asked if I was okay. Then my emotions flooded out. I cried. I put my head down on her shoulder and wept. She asked again what was the matter. What got me?

I told her that no one should die from cancer. I asked Why me? and Why not someone else? In other words, Why am I still here? I haven’t felt that much pain – sadness – inside me in a very long time. It took a little while, but, eventually, I regained my composure. Earlier, I had taken my shoes off – after our 5K walk. I sat down and put my socks and shoes back on.

I just sat there and stared – again – at the empty grass and the knoll. I wondered if this was what heaven might look like. You start in a lower-bowl and walk uphill, unable to see anything past the rise. Once you get to the top of the ridge, the upper-bowl levels out and everyone you’ve missed – everyone who’s gone before you – is there. Waiting.

Like I said, it was an emotional morning.




*** 

Survivor’s guilt can manifest itself in a variety of ways and, naturally, for a variety of reasons. Those of us with cancer are particularly sensitive to fellow cancer patients and their situations. For me, I think ringing that little bell Saturday morning reminded me how precious life truly is. And how fortunate I am. No one should ever go through what Vicki and I have been through. Unfortunately, it happens all too frequently.

Survivors, fighters, and friends.


** The West Center is now known as the West Institute for Cancer Research and is part of the University of Tennessee’s health sciences group.


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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.