More Chemo.

Well its one of those days. Those days when I wish I could just rewind the clock and go back a year to before. Before my life was a cancer commercial, before my life become consumed by this disease. When my worries were what was for dinner and if my daughter was going to make her curfew. When my pressures were work, friends, family and all the joy and heartache that entails. When my life was normal.

Whatever normal was, normal is no more.

As you know, my MRI revealed “partial” response to therapy, which is what they expected and it will be awhile before we truly know if the radiation worked to its full potential. Until then, it is a wait and see attitude, as I work through the side effects and aftermath of the destruction the cancer and the cure caused in my brain. I have related before the cognitive challenges that I have been experiencing, and I struggle with that every day. It is true, of all the things I miss, I miss my mind the most. That used to be a joke about getting old, now it’s just true of cancer in the brain! I really want the use of my fully functioning brain back, even if it wasn’t perfect, at least it worked, most of the time, anyway.

So, I had a CT last Friday and the results actually were fairly positive. Most everything is clear except for one little tumor in my lung which has grown a little. Not a lot, just a little. But a little can turn into a lot if left unchecked. With that, added to the fact that this cancer just stampeded into my brain barerly over a month ago with no warning or notice, a new chemotherapy protocol is warranted. If it was just the little spot in my lungs, we might wait, but we know with almost certainty that there is cancer still lurking in my body, we just can’t see those damn little cockroaches stomping around yet, and Dr. Rado wants to get them before they get me.

So there were a few different protocols that we were looking at; Avastin, which was approved in 2008 and has been found to cross the blood/brain barrier and a PARP Inhibitor, which just finished clinical trials and is current undergoing FDA approval but is specifically for triple negative breast cancer treatment and I might be eligible for compassionate care since I don’t have a lot of options. Then there was a third protocol that, weirdly enough, my brother found on the internet and sent to me a few weeks ago. He thought it was still in clinical trials, but further investigation revealed that it was actually done with trials, is FDA approved and was exactly what Dr. Rado was also investigating for me. How bizzaro is that? My brother finds it a few weeks ago, Mike and I look at it and agree it is probably the best treatment for me and then Dr. Rado recommends it. Okay, that sounds like a good divine intervention for a change! Maybe we are finally on the right track.

So what this means, is that I start chemotherapy again on Thursday. I am not happy about it, I knew eventually I was probably going to have to do more chemo, I was just hoping it was 6 months, a year or longer out. But, the time to fight is now, while the foe is already on the run, so fight I will. With all my heart and soul, with all I am, with every fiber of my being. Because, God, I want to live and I have A LOT to live for.

For you medical people out there who want to know exactly what I am doing; here are the drugs/protocols. Zomeda, every three weeks. That is the bisphosphonate drug I had such a hard time with during radiation. Hopefully, this next dose goes better! The chemo is going to be split in half and I will get the first half on day 1 and second half on day 15 and then the cycle will start all over again 15 days later with day 1. I will be doing Avastin (bevacizumab) and Abraxane (nab-paclitaxel). This combo was presented at the American Association for Cancer Research on Tuesday, April 20, 2010 (the day of my brother’s 50th birthday, which I think is an incredibly awesome good omen) and was found to have extremely successful results in triple negative patients. I am feeling pretty good about this right now.

I admit, I am terrified to start chemo again. I was devastated, I cried, I HATE chemo, I hate being sick and I have just about had it with this cancer crap…but…all that said, now is the time I fight. I know it, and so do you. So fight we will, together, all of you and me. Let’s do it.

Mike and Jason are doing the Ironman Triathlon in Coeur d’Alene this weekend. I was planning on going; a whole family weekend in a house Mike rented with Jason, his family and children, Mike’s sister and me. Now, my part of that trip is on hold. There is no way I can have chemo on Thursday morning and then leave town. So, I will wait and see how I feel on Saturday and I am hoping I’ll feel good enough to join them, and I have a friend who has agreed to drive me up there, but again, it’s a wait and see game. See how I feel and hopefully I’ll be there to watch them start and finish a major accomplishment in their lives, together, father and son. What a special special thing to be a part of, and I hate that this cancer might take that away from me.

So, that’s the plan. We fight. We fight the good fight, all the way to the death. The death of this cancer.