The bad news finally hit
So, I haven't been here for a while because I've been busy. My new scans in April confirmed lesions in my liver. A biopsy confirmed that my ocular melanoma has gone metastatic. That means I have less than a year. It sucks royally, but it's been just shy of seven years since first detection, and for Class 2 OM, the median time before metastasis is three years. I've been playing with house money for quite a while.
So if I don't see you again, thanks for everything, and give Boo a pinch on the cheek for me.
So if I don't see you again, thanks for everything, and give Boo a pinch on the cheek for me.
31
Comments
Seven year living.
Everyone dies but only heros dies fighting.
I salute you.
These last few months will be precious. I hope you can make the most of them, even if that means more time IRL with family and friends, and less on the forums.
And the worst part is that both trips got messed up because of weather. I won't even begin to tell you about the joys of flying, because there are none.
We checked out the hospital today; I have to be back for appointments on Thursday and Friday, so we’re staying in Houston this week. Fortunately the Cancer Support Community gave us a grant to stay in an AirBnB, so that’s one less worry.
Right now I am as sore and pained as hell and cannot get comfortable. But they’ve started the process of harvesting and multiplying the Tcells. At least Part 1 is over
On the whole, chemo wasn't too bad, but I was a pretty healthy 18 year old. I lost 30 pounds in 4 months, and even after more than 17 years, I still haven't gotten all that weight back up.
Fortunately, my mother had very good insurance, and years later it made the Obamacare/ACA matter very personal for me when I found out that my private insurance after I got too old to stay on my parent's insurance had a rider that I was not to be covered for ANY cancer of ANY type, and that company was not even the one that sucked up the loss that I estimate was at LEAST a quarter of a million dollars. When I found that out I dropped that "grandfathered" garbage plan for a new plan that met ACA requirements.
So "pre-existing conditions" coverage is something I take very, very, VERY personally now.
Yeah, you're making me remember the seemingly endless appointments I had. My first day there for tests, I remember that ran for like 10 hours, from 10 a.m. or so to 8 p.m. CAT scans, X-rays, blood draws, radio-dye bone scans...
And every check up was another blood draw and X-ray and CAT scan. It was because of this I found that you can only stick a vein so much so often before it just scars up for awhile and you can't draw blood out of it.
Again, good luck to you.
It was rough, but so far the recovery hasn't been too bad. My wife got us an AirBnB near Galveston Bay for a few days after I was checked out and before I was cleared to fly. My brother flew in for four days to help out my wife and to just spend time together. He went with us to the hospital for my follow up and wheeled me back to the phlebotomist. When she pulled out thirteen vials, he was shocked. I said "Have I mentioned that I sometimes look borderline anemic? And have dreams of being a strawberry milkshake?"
So we're back, I can't lift anything heavy, and I have to take more pills than Jimmy Page's stunt double. But now I recover and wait for news from the lab. (They are above 90% on growing the T cells, but not 100%.)
And now, The Bridge District.
Best of luck and tell Xzar 'hi' for me!
A friend of mine died of cancer not too long ago. I wish you little pain and a lot of happiness for the time that is left for you.
Thanks, but really, what I'm going through is not that big a deal. Like I said, I saw people much worse off at MD Anderson, and if this is what it takes to give me more time, then so be it.
Mind you, I say this now that I am no longer getting my daily anti-clotting medicine, which my wife had to administer via a needle in my stomach.
It looks my radiotherapy is going to be the 'continuous' kind where they inject radioactive spheres around the affected area - which in my case means that I'll have a radioactive arse. When I stopped giggling I asked if that meant that my 'stools' would be radioactive, kind of like nuclear waste. A very emphatic "No!" was the answer - but I will however have to carry a special explanatory card for airport security scanners etc.!
Be really happy about the answer being "no". Otherwise, you would no longer be allowed to use any toilets, but would have to collect all your waste for proper disposal
I know someone who took part in a clinical study, and where that was the case. It took the people on the study drug at least a week to learn how to hit the special bottles for disposal.
I guess that having to measure my urine output after surgery isn't so bad after all.