Backsliding

For some reason, I thought my recovery would be a straight diagonal line up until I was better. Unfortunately, it's a little more jagged. I've had a rough few days, with a lot of barfing and the inability to hold down anything . . . which reinforces the problem. I think I'm climbing out of it.

Sadly, it looks like I am losing my hair. The first three rounds of Cisplatin, I kept my hair and assumed I would keep it through these. Not so, I'm shedding it pretty good. It'll grow back, but it's a bummer. I had thought that I was going to be spared that indignity, but . . .

My most pressing problem is that my red and white blood counts are quite low. This makes me very prone to infection, but also brings about a sort of anemic fatigue that's no fun.

So, to sum up. Bad times lately. Wah Wah Wah. Poor me.

I know things'll get better and that I just need to keep my head up. Thanks for letting me vent.

Doing It

OK, I have had a good day today. After a couple of days of battling nausea, I've actually got some good sleep and am "eating" regularly. "Eating" being taking Ensure through my stomach tube.

I felt so good today that I decided to try more soup. So, chicken noodle it is. I had about a dozen spoons of broth and even tried to eat a noodle. I figured a noodle is slippery and should work. It took me several attempts and lots of water to get it down. It was kind of funny.

The good news is that my taste is starting to come back. I've tasted (only to spit out) a number of foods lately, stuffing, turkey (on Christmas), sugarplums, etc. I can taste more and more. Not perfectly, but some taste is there. I'll take it for now!

Year of the Cole

This evening, I had a few slurps of wonton soup broth, which technically counts as my first eating since September. It's a long way from a Tuscan steak with Brunello or Shelly's mom's stuffing but it's a first step. If my mouth sores would tame down, I'd be more daring. Right now, I'm happy with drinking and broth slurping.

The other cool thing is my car is back from the painter's and my father-in-law/friend/carbuilding guru master has nearly reassembled everything. In no time, I'll be street legal and giving everyone a new reason to pray for me not to die.

Here's a little pic of the car back from the painters, still under reconstruction.

Back on the Sauce

It's come to this. I'm drinking again. Can you blame me with all I've been through?

No, not alcohol . . . yet. I have actually taken several sips, maybe even gulps of water now and swallowed them without trouble.

This is huge in my recovery and who knows. Soon I'll be eating.

My health has generally stabilized to usual chemo status, so I'm not great but almost functional. I'm still not really talking quite yet, and I have awful mouth sores right now. But tonight's drinking session is perhaps the sweetest one I've ever had.

Thanks for all your notes, prayers, cards and thoughts, everyone. Prayer and drive combine to produce results, baby!

Blind Sided

I just got out of the hospital this afternoon. I got checked in after a blood test during my 4th chemo cycle here.

Before this chemo, I thought, "Hell, I'm been through three rounds aleady and simultaneous with radiation. It should be a piece of cake."

Well, a piece of cake? A piece of bitter, nasty cake covered with angry bees maybe. It certainly has not been easy to deal with.

The first three days were ok, but the weekend was rough. I was sick beginning Friday night pretty much all through to Monday. Without being gorey, I'll say the volume I pushed out of me was at times shocking to me. It would be funny, except it burned badly at times.

You see, I've entered a common phase for head/neck cancer patients where we develop sores inside our throat and mouth. My lips are shredded raw and bloody, too. So, I'm quite pathetic. Pity me. Boo hoo.

Aside from this discomfort, the major problem is vomiting.

The vomiting was so bad that I ended up with nothing to vomit, except bile . . which is basically pure acid. Youch.

So, Monday my blood work came back and they decided to get me fluids and check me in for some care. The visit was not a great time and I would have been better off getting the same attention from my mom. Nevertheless, Kristina came and actually bamboozled the hospital into letting her stay the night watching over me and interrupting for my nurses. My speech is particularly bad right now.


It's been hard, but I'm hoping I'm ready to start recovery now.

Phase II Begins

"If we do not find anything pleasant, at least we shall find something new."

- Voltaire, Candide

OK, so today I headed over to Doylestown to begin the first of three monthly chemo treatments of Cisplatin/5FU. I've done reasonably well with the Cisplatin, aside from the hearing loss. So, I am hoping I continue to tolerate it without too much trouble. The 5FU is less disastrous, according to everyone I've spoken with, then the Cisplatin. So, again, I am hopeful these treatments will not cause too much trouble or stall my recovery from radiation too badly.

It was a full day at the hospital, and I got the chance to use my new PICC line rather than getting IVs and blood test needles. It was pretty cool. The nurses warned of the risk of infection with PICC lines, particularly during the chemo cycle when my white blood counts drop sharply and I'm very susceptible to infection. We'll do our best to be sterile and careful, as well as prayerful, that we can avoid trouble. I really just need it for the next 60 days or so.

So far, so good with the chemo treatment. I usually don't feel much until the next day and things really kick in around day 4 or so.

The other news I have to report is on my MRI and visit with Dr. Bar Ad. First things first. Dr. Bar Ad is leaving Penn to head up a Radiation team with the Veterans Administration. This is noble work, and I appreciate her help. Considering my radiation phase of treatment is over, it's a good time for me to lose her.

She was pleased with my MRI results, noting 90%+ shrinkage in my neck mass. She believes the remaining 10% is necrotic tissue, which always occurs with large masses in the lymph nodes being zapped with radiation. There is always a chance of some viable cancer cells within that mass. She believes if they are not dead, the next 3 chemo treatments are likely to kill them. However, she also said the option for surgical removal exists. Especially considering the fact that I am lucky enough to have Dr. Greg Weinstein as my surgeon, we are seeking his opinion on surgery. At this point, I am not worried about short term discomfort the surgery may bring if it increases my odds for survival. That's my thinking. However, Dr. Weinstein could say it's not really necessary. I am eager to hear from him some time this week.

PICC Line Install

“It is in men as in soils where sometimes there is a vein of gold which the owner knows not.”

- Johnathon Swift

This morning I travel to Doylestown Hospital for my PICC install. The lovely 20-minute ride is so much easier than making the trip down to Penn. But I have to say, it's more than convenience that impresses me about Doylestown Hospital. The staff and facility are very impressive and welcoming. It's easy to see why it has been named best Hospital in Bucks/Montgomery counties for 12 years running.

I arrived with mom and headed into the interventional radiology area where PICC insertions are done. There was just one guy, like 35 or so, working there and he seemed very professional. In many ways he reminded me of a friend named Kevin. This put me at ease. After all, this was a little stressful. I really didn't know quite what to expect with this pic line except I was going to be hit with a needle and then have a line jammed through my arm veins to a major vein near my heart. A little spooky.

I went in and laid down on the table. The guy "Kevin" prepared my arm for the procedure. The only time I got nervous was when he did not apply a desensitizing cream to my arm. I'd read that they numb your arm with this cream that takes as much as an hour to go into effect. It seemed like he was just going to do the procedure without any numbing agent. Then he starting shooting me up with novacaine needles. He gave me 2-3 needles inside my upper arm right below my armpit, where he then inserted the PICC.

The novacaine was not really any more painful than a typical IV stick. I was only able to feel the sensation of the tubing/line being feed through my vein at the point of entry. I did not feel it inching through my body and did not feel anything in my chest.

The whole procedure was very efficient and I was in and out of the hospital within an hour. The other good news is that I shouldn't have to have the PICC taken out and reinserted between treatments. People have PICC lines in for as much as a year, and the two - three months that i would need it is no problem at all.

So what are the benefits of this PICC line? Well, primarily it allows the docs to administer chemo drugs direct to stronger veins and will allow that continuous 4-5 day feed of 5FU I get beginning Monday. It preserves the veins in my arms from further damage, as chemo really fries them. Docs can also take blood samples painlessly from my pic rather than sticking me. So, this is another nice feature.

The other option that is more common is a cathiport, which is surgically inserted below the skin in your chest. It performs a similar function, but I've heard that these must be kept for a least six months before you have another procedure to remove them. I liked that the PICC line could come out as soon as I didn't need it.

Anyway, I'm doing pretty well today. Yesterday wasn't the greatest, but I like when I'm able to bounce back from a bad day and have a good one. It's a sign that things are shaping up. Even my mucous seems like it's beginning to wind down.