Treatment Holiday

I went to get my port flushed yesterday and to get my monthly bone strengthener injection. For those that don't know, I have a port-catheter in my chest. It is like a little button that is piped directly into a main line for circulation. Whenever I have an IV, they poke a needle into it and the IV is administered through there. It keeps them from having to find a vein in my arm for an IV each time I get an infusion or have blood drawn. It was handy with all of the infusions, but I am not sure how long I will keep it in if I don't need to have infusions nearly as much. The bone strengthener used to be a monthly IV, but now it is just an injection. The port needs to be flushed monthly with Heparin to keep it from clogging and trying to clot. Gross, huh? The bone strengthener has been working really well since early on to keep the progress of the cancer in the bone at bay. I started with Zometa, switched to Pamidronate, and now get Denosumab as an injection. My moods have been up and down a little over the last few weeks and my mom had some insight into why it might be. She worked as an RN for years and said that sometimes even while you are having chemo or other tough treatments, it still feels like you are battling it with something. Once you are on a treatment holiday, one your body needs after chemo, it can feel like the cancer is free to run its course because you are enjoying the benefits of the chemo, but not currently on any medication to treat the cancer. I think that is true in my case. I am fighting it other ways also, but the conventional treatments have had the most recognizable effects. I will have a CT in 4 weeks, along with another PSA, so that will truly tell the tale. All for now. My best to all!

Brian.

Fish 0 - Dad & Brian 27

It turns out that my scouting expedition on Tuesday paid dividends on Thursday. We started out a little slow, but then got into a hole where we caught keeper after keeper as quick as we could put them in the livewell. Mark Twain Lake is known for Crappie and it is spawn season, so we hit it at the right time. Even better than the fishing was the company and we had a great time on a beautiful day. It was a day well spent. Pictures are trapped on my phone. When I figure out how to negotiate their release, I will post them. I hope all of you are enjoying your spring, as well! My best to you!

B.

Fish 1 - Brian 0

I was finally able to get out and go fishing today. While I did catch a couple little ones, the fish emerged victorious today. It was invigorating to get out on the water and in the sunshine. Beautiful day, boat ran well, didn't sink, etc. It didn't really matter to me about the size of the catch today. It is just a mood adjuster to get outside and do something that I really enjoy. I will be heading out again on Thursday with a much more focused approach to my "catching" so hopefully some pictures will be accompanying the glowing fishing report! All for now. All my best to all.

B.

Lost

Sometimes I wonder if this is all real. Is the cancer real and is my life really threatened by it? I know these things are true, but sometimes, a lot of the time, it seems like a really bad dream. I am one of those restless people that are continually striving towards something. It was the reason that my family relocated more times than I care to remember, even though I would not give up any of them due to the friends that I made at each and every one of them, many that follow these writings. Lately I am caught in the middle of living and dying. I have written brave words about living, and I walk that walk most of the time, but sometimes, like now, I feel lost in my own life. Not sure if I have many years, a few years, or maybe just one or two before the buzzer sounds and it's over. I know that no one is guaranteed anything and any minute could be anyone's last. But there is an invincibility of youth and good health one moment and the next filled with phrases like, "There is no cure" and "We don't know how long you have" and " You have young children? I'm so sorry". I thought the hard part was hearing the news and the initial shock of it all before you get you wits about you again. The hard part is trying to go to sleep, after you have exhausted most of the treatment options, with images of your wife and children crying over a casket with you in it. Then the worries of have I done enough for them. To give them the strength they will need. Peace. Character. Have I been enough of a Dad to make up for not being able to see it through? Will there be enough for them to lean on when they need it most, and I am not there? Have I supported my wife enough that she will be able to get through without her companion? These are the things that occupy my mind right now. I want to have peace with them and move back to living life the way I was intended, but I am truly stuck. Sometimes the fear and anguish of these thoughts keep me from doing the very things that I fear I won't be able to do. How twisted is that? I hate writing these things sometimes and hesitated posting this, but I need to get this stuff out and I know that others that read this blog have similar trials and need to know that they are not alone, and I will not let pride interfere with that. My advice to me is to get out ASAP and do something for someone to take my mind off of me. Works everytime. Sorry for the downer. Peaks and Valleys. Peaks and Valleys.