Medical Update 3/30/2009

And it's really a day of mixed news, unfortunately. The good news is abundant: no sign of any additional metastatic cancer anywhere in my body, my appetite is good, my weight remains steady, I have effective pain control and am becoming more and more mobile all the time. I walk now with great ease and balance; only my stamina is in need of dramatic improvement. And that's the start of the other side of the coin. One of the reasons, apparently, that I'm so short of breath is that my primary tumor has started to expand, while the rest of the upper lobe is collapsing around it, and obstructing the easy flow of air in and out of my afflicted right lung. So now it looks like another round of consultations with my pulmonologist and my radiation oncologist to see what kind of treatments they may have available to help relieve those symptoms, and get me back on the right track again.

And I don't want the good news to get lost in this disappointment. The tumor appears to have expanded, but it's not really clear whether it's actually growing or has just changed shape. The blockage could also be being caused by something else, including accumulated mucus in my lung which is trapped there by the tumor and contributing to the problem. And if THAT'S the case, it's probably no more coffee ice cream for me! The more important news by far is that the cancer is staying where it belongs, in my right lung, and not running rampant through the rest of my body. With the exception of the one distant bone metastasis in my L-3 vertebra, this would basically still be a stage two cancer, at least the way I read the diagnostic criteria. But what do I know? I'm a Doctor of Philosophy, not a Doctor of Medicine.

What I DO know is that I'm feeling better all the time, notwithstanding the shortness of breath, the dry mouth, the occasional hoarseness and difficulty swallowing, and routine "fuzziness" and fatigue that follow me around much of the day. These are (not to put too fine a point on it) all things I can live with without (too much) complaining. The day I learn (and I hope it never comes) that the cancer has metastasized to my brain will be the day I may let my discouragement out of box for an hour or two. How did they put it? If you see Kay this cancer. Hell, ALL Cancer.

Anyway, more consultations, probably followed by more treatments, and another round of calendar shuffling to try to fit in everything I want (and need) to do before moving back to the West Coast in July. And who knows? This may actually turn out to be a two-part move, with a quick July visit to the Pacific Northwest and then a return trip back here in August to finish up any unfinished business before moving the rest of my life to California. The really tricky part -- which is also the most important part -- is the hand-off of both medical insurance carriers and my medical treatment team from here in Maine to the folks in California. Retired at 52. How many people dream of that? I just need to learn to embrace the opportunity that's been offered to me, rather than lamenting the lose of "what might have been."