But moving right along, yesterday I attended this pathetic but well-intended effort to create male camaraderie because on Monday I learned that my most recent CT scan shows that the primary tumor in my right lung has once again started to grow, which means that NEXT Monday I begin my second regimen of chemotherapy. This time I'll be taking two drugs named Olympta and Avastin, probably only once every three weeks for a total of 4-6 cycles, which may then be followed by a course of treatment with yet a third drug, Tarceva, which is an oral medicine rather than an IV infusion. But a lot of this is yet to be determined, since what we do next really depends upon how well what we do first actually does.
Even so, this news was obviously a big disappointment. I've always known that there was more chemo waiting for me somewhere down the road, but I'd anticipated it starting up later this spring, and being able to tiptoe through the holidays without letting cancer become too big a factor. But apparently that's not the way it's going to be; instead, it looks like I'm going to be celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas and Hanukkah, (a.k.a. Feast of Lights, Festival of lights, Feast of Dedication, Chanukah, Chanukkah, Hanukah); Yule; Saturnalia; Shabe-Yalda; Bodhi Day (a.k.a. Rohatsu); and whatever else may happen to stumble along my path with a tube in my chest, rather than painted blue and dancing around a bonfire in praise of the Huntress, the Horned King, and the Lord of Misrule.
Or to put it another way, all I asked for was a little wassail and some figgy pudding, and instead I'm left to make due with warm beer and cold pizza. Bud Light, fer crissakes. I hardly know what to say next. To memories of better Christmases past! And the hope of many Christmases yet to come...

5 comments:
Ugh, not the news I was hoping for either. For what it's worth, my hero Fr. Phil is in the hospital having bone scans etc. this week, he's in severe pain and the fear (the likelihood, really) is that his bone cancer has metastasized to his lungs -- so you'll likely be fellow chemo soldiers over the holidays. I lift you both up.... Ann B
Tim, I'm sorry to hear you are heading back into chemo, which could put a damper on your ripping solstice rituals. Know that you are in my thoughts. -- Diane
oh merde, honey
What she said!
I am tempted to come over with some GOOD beer and a board game or two. (I bought a case of Molson Golden last week in an attempt at economy. Although vastly better than Bud, it isn't a patch on Shipyard's Fuggles IPA or any other local microbrew.) My son's godfather, who is a certified board game expert who has even been featured in an article in the NYT for his weekly game night will be here this week. (With his foster therapy dog, Dolma, also known as the Dolminator, whom you would also like to meet, I think.) Perhaps we could come by and amuse you, should you feel up to it. We are available any time from Wednesday morning on. Also let me know if you want to attempt trivia on Monday.
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