Clear road ahead - no known construction or detours!

I'm not saying that I'm cured of cancer--that probably will never happen--but Keytruda and my immune system seem to be controlling its growth well. 

The metastasized spots in the liver and bones are no longer visible; there are still spots in my lungs that have not grown since the last CAT or whatever they do, and it is unknown, since this particular test does not differentiate live cancer cells from dead ones that have not yet been absorbed by my system. I am continuing treatments and hope for a "medication vacation" in the near future.

Therefore, I will not be blogging frequently.

I'm living as close to a normal life as one can get at age 84. Undoubtedly, the treatments have aggravated some of my existing "owies" and "ouchies", but I'm exercising, keeping moving, and doing my part to keep the joints oiled (Keytruda does list both fatigue and a propensity to attack joints as side effects) and keep everything moving. Which most all folks my age are also doing.

I'm blessed every day the sun comes up and I run through the catalog in my head of those I love and who love me in return. I think daily of a dear friend of mine, Rainie McCormick.

 I've not shared this story before partly because it can be a downer until you see clearly the will and determination to keep on living that Rainie drew on every day for eighteen months in the mid '70s. How she fought for each day and determined to "stay alive." But I want to share it now that I'm seeing daylight. Tomorrow may be a different story, that's the way life goes--but one day at a time works for me, and this is what I'm seeing and feeling today.

Rainie was my mentor in politics and Administrative Secretary to the Ruckelshaus campaign in 1968--my boss. But for her guidance and wisdom, I would not have had the career and experiences I have had in government. After Bill Ruckelshaus was defeated for U.S Senator in a race against Birch Bayh, Rainie continued her work as assistant to the Assistant Director of the State Republican Committee, Betty Rendel. I went on, as most of you know, to establish a career in the Indiana State Senate. Rainie (and Betty as well) was a great tactician, savvy politician, and a dear friend all wrapped into one. 

She was diagnosed with lung cancer and suffered 18 months of treatment.  Chemotherapy wiped her out completely, taking medication that made her sicker than she was, she lost her hair, and survived a couple of hospitalizations, one being the removal of a lung. I'd visit her when she was at home, helped her with her duties at the State Republican headquarters when she was well enough to come to work and sat by her in the hospital when those times arose.

She had worked downtown almost the entire week before staying with me for the weekend and we were jubilant. We talked about old times, war stories, and our kids. We laughed until we cried, helped, I'm sure, with the bottles of wine we killed, and chatted with my kids as they roamed in and out on their weekend wanderings. There was always so much joy in her, bubbling over frequently; she also greeted a political or personal challenge with the same vigor. Would never want to be on the opposite side of her.

She drove herself home to Lebanon and died a few days later.

This was the lung cancer "story" I had in my mind when I started this process. I have had such an easy walk through this, thanks to modern medicine, and occasionally, I cry a bit for what Rainie suffered. I also take courage remembering how she handled her struggles. My challenges have been nothing compared to hers, but I am maintaining.

 The last six months have been a dizzying experience, seeing my ability to do things varying sometimes day by day, my energy drained by small efforts. Intimations of my own mortality has also fostered great personal and spiritual growth, and a time to gather in and celebrate the people in my life. 

One day at a time; assuming there is a future; appreciating each day just in case there isn't.

Road Ahead Not Charted

If you've flown down highway 69 to Evansville and back, I'm sure you have noted that the cursor on your map program is roaming through fields, over hills, and even over rivers where there exists no bridge.The #### thing keeps telling you to "take the next turn" to get you back on a familiar route.Then "recalculating."

Well, I think I'm riding that darn cursor now. However, there isn't anyone who can say, with authority, "take the next turn," so it gets even more frustrating. My doctor is exceptional, but he doesn't pretend to know everything. And I'm dealing with aging (never been 84 before--don't know what's par for that course), the ongoing progress of arthritis in all my joints, cancer (where is it--has it wandered to a new area? Is it gone?) and the complication of the treatment needed, and still the same old Achilles heel(s): my knees. How do you deal with all of the above? How do you identify what's attacking your body?

Fatigue, I've knocked in the head. That is a bona fide side effect of the Keytruda and I sleep a good 12 hours a day--a 4:30 nap when I run out of steam and the rest at night. Although frustrating and difficult to accomplish much, this is actually a blessing. The ability to sleep escapes many cancer patients . . and other 80+ year olds! I do it well. 

I'm no stranger to pain, since I have suffered from knee problems since my late 'teens, and have lived with sciatic nerve pain off and on ever since 1968, but it is disconcerting when pain strikes now. Is it just the same old, same old--just aggravated by the other factors? Or is it the cancer or the cure that is affecting my body? 

I have unpredictable "spells" of discomfort and, lately; lack of balance keeps me using a walker most of the time. I haven't figured out any pattern for these minor setbacks--and maybe don't have to. 

No set answers, no concrete path to follow. So, my "formula" for surviving is the same as it always has been--take one day at a time; plan as if you'll live forever and enjoy every day in case you don't!!

The bottom line is the scans done in January show exceptional progress in shrinking the tumors; I have another infusion on the 23rd of March, another set of scans in early April. Then??? 

I'm recalculating . . .

HIGHWAY IS CLEAR; NO RED LIGHTS ARE NEAR

Ralph, Bro Jim, and I met with Dr. Dayton on Friday. Scans taken last week show marked improvement in shrinking the existing tumors, especially in the sensitive lung area. Some of the metastasized locations are cancer-free and the tumors in the liver have shrunk considerably; only one site visible. 

Every new infusion session leaves me feeling stronger and I am experiencing no side effects other than the fatigue caused by my immune system working overtime! So, I am planning ahead more than a month or two now; starting some projects, and keeping the legislators and congressmen that I vote for on their toes.

The infusions will continue, at three week intervals, for three more injections; then more testing. Since I am, with only an occasional ache or pain, living a regular life, I won't be adding much for a while, hopefully. 

Isn't it interesting that good news is often boring?  I'll take boring, believe me! However, I'll jump in once in a while if there is news.

I will leave you with the report I wrote for Dr. Dayton. He seemed to enjoy it. Hope you do, too. 

TO:      Dr. Dayton

RE:      “Whether” report

DATE:  January 19, 2018

The cough resists,

Though “she persists”.*

It seems deeper

But I’m a good sleeper.*

The feces often tightens

But Colace/Metamucil lightens.*

Walking like a 76-year old;

Twice down the hallway is my goal.*

I get a rash between my eyes;

Use globs of oil to disguise.

Balance is quite awry;

Balance classes I will try.

“Saddle” pain, it does remain;

Taking more Tylenol helps regain.*

Weight is constant there;

T’is a shame, I have lots to share.

Feeling healthy; better than wealthy;

Catch 40 winks, slightly stealthy.*

Don’t know where we go from here,

But thanks, Oncology for the end of last year.

I’M STILL HERE!!!!!  Poet Laureate Infusion Section

Yellow Light: Proceed with Caution

From where I sit, it has been a marvelous Christmas. Over the years, we have shucked some of the trappings of Christmas--my Christmas tree for two years running has been a canvas painted and decorated by Ryan, Betsy and Jeromi's child (child??? now 18 and headed for college next year), and me that hangs on the wall, pointsettias and some favorite Christmas decorations scattered here and there. 

But it has been totally filled with love, joy, and the people that I hold dearest to my heart. Especially since the possibility that I wouldn't see this Christmas loomed before me, I appreciate that I have had God's good grace of reasonably good health through and now beyond the holidays. From Facebook photos and comments, and general conversation, it seems that you have enjoyed the family time that Christmas brings as well. I still have a notion that all of the energy, Greene and Gray, that has flowed through here in the last couple of months, has helped me get back on my feet again.

If any of you have the bad luck of cancer, I pray that you qualify for some of the new treatments based on genetic principles, like Keytruda, which unleashes the power of your own immune system to fight the cancer. With all the turmoil churning in our health system, my heart goes out to folks who are not insured and who do not have the advantages I have had. The bill, so far, has been around $65,000 of which we have paid, so far, $1,800 plus some $200-$300 bills for PET and MRI scans. Waiting to see what happens when the Trump shoe actually drops. 

I am now two weeks out from my last infusion. I do feel fatigued and a bit "whoozy" for a day or two after the treatment, but that diminishes quickly and I am pretty much in my usual routine, albeit a few more hours of sleep and a still-diminished appetite. 

I'm more and more confirmed that the many of my problems in walking (now, especially, since I can walk around 600-800 steps without getting out of breath) are the result of so much time in bed and lack of energy to continue an exercise routine. I've been using a walker lately and have increased the intensity and time of my exercise routine. There is a marked loss of my balancing ability and I start in-house balance exercises this month.

This may be more than you want to know about me and my condition, but there is a lesson here--any time, effort, and sacrifice you might make to improve your health now is like depositing money in the bank to retire on. Especially now, as research is breaking through in many areas to use a person's own immune system to tackle diseases or illnesses that come our way. Thank God for the Van Vorsts, Stetlers, Borgs, and Bastons who all contributed to my gene pool! 

I'll go in for some scans, and on the 18th of January, will have a "certified" opinion as to the effectiveness of the treatment. Will keep you posted.