Pasta con a loud unwanted opinion

Since we just moved into a new neighborhood, tonight we decided to try a nearby casual Italian restaurant. It had pretty good on-line reviews and it is just a few minutes away from us, so we were sold.

We waited about 20 minutes for our table, but there was a steady stream of people coming and going. Hector noted that everyone leaving was carrying a to-go box, a warning sign that the portions were most likely going to be huge. (And they were pretty big. Leftovers for tomorrow. #winning)

We got a cute booth against the wall but the tables in the center of the room came pretty close to us. Turns out, too close. Within a minute of sitting down, I hear a woman at the closest table say blah blah "cancer" blah blah. I can't even help it, when I hear that word, it just gets all my attention. It's like when you say "treat" to a dog or "outside?" It becomes all that they can focus on. Same thing.

So now I find myself listening to this woman tell her friends that when her Dad was diagnosed with cancer, he changed his diet and did all this stuff to increase his survival odds. Sounds good. But she feels like if Sue* ever got cancer, Sue would be testing fate, smoking cigarettes - as many as she could hold, and drinking booze, and shouting "3 months? Let's make it 1 month!" Oh boy. Then I listened to this woman say "if I ever got cancer, I would jump off a bridge." At this point, I'm pretty sure she can feel me staring directly at her with a presumably disgusted look on my face. She clears her throat and says to her friends, "well because I hate to feel nauseous."

It just hit a nerve with me. Maybe because here is a woman whose life has been directly affected by cancer (her father) and she still thought it was okay to joke that suicide would be the best option. Maybe it scared me to think about what she might have seen her father go through. Maybe I was just annoyed that she was talking so loudly about a subject that is so personal to me. Or maybe I should have been minding my own business.

I still enjoyed my butternut squash ravioli but the dinner left a bad taste in my mouth.


*Not the real name, it was clearly a woman that they had been talking about when the conversation caught my ear.

Reading

There's a lot to read out there. I found this article about a new type of treatment very interesting.

http://fightcolorectalcancer.org/research-treatment/currently-incurable-scientist/reprogramming-a-tumor-for-death/

And that article led me to the author's personal blog, another good read that I'll be checking in on regularly.

http://adventuresinlivingterminallyoptimistic.com/

Empty

• Bloodwork and treatment at Siteman West County

The best kind of treatment room is an empty treatment room.

My neutrophils were low again today. Shocking.

Sorry Tommy

• Bloodwork and treatment at Siteman West County

On cold and rainy Fall days like today, all I really want to do is stay in bed and hide under the covers. (But doesn't everybody?)

Instead, I was off to Siteman first thing this morning. My neutrophils were super low today, the lowest they have been since May when we reduced my Xeloda from 3,000 to 2,500/day. Dr. T's office approved treatment anyway but I got the usual spiel about being careful... avoid snotty children, wash my hands and call at the first sign of an infection. So don't be offended if I don't want to hold little Tommy this week. And I think I'll let Hector hand out the candy on Saturday night.

Only 6 more hours of work until I can crawl under those covers.

The unworried lesion

• Bloodwork, appointment with NP S and Dr. T and treatment at Siteman South County

NP S came in today and we talked about last week's CT. We talked about the "stable 7 mm low-attenuation lesion" in my liver that is mentioned in the CT report (as it has been for the past 2 CTs.) I wanted to get a better understanding of why exactly we aren't worried about it. We talked with NP S about it (and plenty of other things) and she left the room for a bit to discuss it with Dr. T. They both came back into the room to talk to us. But before they came back in, Dr. T had NP S (and NP A) pull up all of my scans and the corresponding reports since I was diagnosed and apparently you can see this same "lesion" on all of the CTs and MRIs, even when it isn't mentioned in the reports. The radiologists who read the scans have criteria that they use to determine whether they think it is a lesion or cyst or if they think it could be metastatic disease. And apparently all along, my 7 mm spot is passing the tests for just being a lesion. So we'll just keep watching it and as long as it remains unchanged, we remain unworried. Sure, unworried. We agreed that getting an MRI (to get a better look at it) is reasonable and on my next set of scans (in January), I will have an MRI of that area, along with my regular scheduled CTs. Seems okay by me.

During our conversations, I got a little teary-eyed with NP S and then again with them both. I find myself just so TIRED OF IT ALL. I know that they both see patients everyday in much worse conditions than me, so afterwards, I do feel a little stupid about it. But I AM allowed to feel... however I feel. I know, I know, I'm unbelievably thankful that it hasn't gotten worse at this point. And I'm thankful for all of the things that I continue to be able to do everyday. I am. Look at me. I'm working full-time, I'm traveling, I'm being active (I played soccer TONIGHT), I'm living my life. I think about family and friends who have lost loved ones to cancer. I think about my friend BAH (#thegreathencini) who was diagnosed with cancer (a different, far more aggressive kind) in November 2014 and then passed away 6 months later. I just need to get it out sometimes, scream it from mountain tops, or in this case, cry about it in front of my doctor. When it is just NP S, Hector and I in the room again, I tell NP S that I do feel better after this appointment. She reminds me that being there to answer questions and to talk through my concerns is one of the reasons that they are there.

One other thing that we talked about is my first year colonoscopy coming up due at the end of January. Since I will already be getting an extra week off from chemo during the beginning of January for an out-of-town vacation, they might extend it another week to give me a full month break before my colonoscopy. I will have to be off Avastin for 4 weeks before the procedure anyway, so if I do feel like I want/need an additional week, that would be the time. It's an idea that we all cautiously agree upon for now. Before that decision is finalized though, we'll have the results of more Guardant testing (blood was drawn for it today), the results of CEA testing done over the next 3 months and the results from my scans at the beginning of January. So we'll see what January brings.

Mutch

Hey, I know this guy!!

 

http://www.siteman.wustl.edu/ContentPage.aspx?id=8891

Scan me

• CT scan of my chest, abdomen and pelvis at Barnes West County Imaging Center

I'm not going to even bother beating around the bush. I spoke to my nurse this afternoon and the preliminary results of my CT from this morning do not note any changes. NED. The 7 mm "cyst", as they refer to it, in my liver remains unchanged. Full details will come with the final report and at my appointment with Dr. T on Tuesday. Hooraaaaayyy!! 

Cartwheels

I'm officially in full-on scanxiety mode tonight with a CT scheduled for tomorrow morning. It's been three months since my last one, the longest interval between scans since my diagnosis. Overall I haven't felt great, but the last 2 weeks have been better than average. I know I'm not invincible and I won't jinx myself but I am praying for continued good news.

When I popped on to Facebook tonight, I got a notification that I had a flashback from this day, 6 years ago. It was 5 days before my first date with Hector and there have many cartwheels since! And I'm hoping to be doing some more later this week. 

Unicorn

I, too, have felt like a unicorn in the treatment room. When the author talks about sharing her prom stories... I can relate to feeling that same way when I was sharing my wedding stories last year.

http://fightcolorectalcancer.org/community/the-unicorns-in-the-oncology-ward/

Breakfast of champions