Random Things

It was Lord of the Ring Thanksgiving Weekend on Encore. (HD!)    Friday was treatment day.  So, the rest of the day is low key, tv, email, facebook, etc.  I loaf.   LotR on in the background.  In my office Saturday, not feeling well, attempting to work, LotR on in the background.  I think I have gone through the trilogy twice this weekend.  The *extended* versions, too.


There was nothing special about the conversation.  Back and forth on the spelling of the city.  "D-e-r or d-r?" "U or e?"  I was starting a new client.   The normality of it was startling and, kind of nice.  So many conversations have the open, or unspoken, topic of my health woven into it.  And, honestly, it's been a pretty hot topic on my own conversational plate, too.  Yes, no doubts, I have talked about it, too.  So, it was startlingly strange and nice to have a "normal" conversation.  I'm forgetting what they felt like.


I looked up my projected end of chemo dates.  Nothing's in stone, but maybe...early January?  Then, 17 days of radiation and maybe...done by Groundhog Day?  This is kind of exciting to think about.  Somewhere in there, they'll be taking my port out, too, I imagine.  Hmmmm.  There's a question for next visit.

On the topic of that client.  I put together my welcome packet for them tonight and, just as I'm about to seal it, I realized I hadn't put a business card in with it.  In fact, I hadn't been doing that for months, come to think of it.  Funny.  I don't even know if I have any of my Health Coach business cards around.  What a sad fact I had just found out.  Suddenly, it's very important to me to find my cards and send one out.

In my laptop bag, I grab up a small stack of discovered cards, wrapped with a rubber band.  I humored myself  as I drew my cards from the bag, with a vision of Theoden King.  Ah, my arm recovering it's old strength, as I wielded a card onto my letter!

Pausing for Breath

So.  The words of the day have been "pensive".   With a bit of depression.  Or, the other way around.

I've been able to talk about it a little bit with Helen and Sarah.  A very difficult thing.  They're understanding, though it effects them, too.

My doctor says it's normal, too.  So, there we have it, assurances all around.

For now, as long as I'm not in bed with the covers over my head, or my family doesn't want to commit me, I prefer not to medicate.  I'm functional, just a little demotivated temporarily.  It seems like the right thing to do is to let it play out.   I've got tremendous upside potential, I just need to wait until my emotions re-sync.

SPF 2000

So.  Let's call it bulky.  Accepted.  I feel better about it since I have the good PET.

On another front, we saw the radiation oncologist this week. I expected a recommendation for radiation from a radiation oncologist.  To be cynical, "if your tool is a hammer, everyone can start to look like nails."  However, he made a compelling case that comes from some pretty deep experience at Sloan in the Hodgkin's field.

It had been floated that with the good PET scan, six rounds of chemo with no radiation might be an option.

And he made clear that it was.

But there's a significantly better response with radiation.  So, with the bulk factor shading things, I don't see any reason to leave points on the table.  Radiation it shall be.

I'm supposed to get a little tan over the site.

Decisions

Now we are faced with decisions.   And also, questions.

First, for my doctor.  My file was referred for an opinion from an expert at the Cleveland Clinic.  While the information was good, more questions than answers came out of it.  The most important being that the expert said I have "bulky" disease.  This is a major blow to my psyche if true and I need to regroup and refocus.  Bulky disease is one of the "unfavorable" factors.  I don't like the sound of that at all and it was generally considered a good thing when my own doctor told me that he considered the mass in my chest significant, but not "bulky." 

So, just how bad is this bulky thing, anyway?  That's going to be a question for this week.

Also, while getting props for a good first follow-up PET, the words in conjunction with one of my treatment options were, "probability of relapse would be high."  I hated to hear that.  I wanted to hear that my first PET scan meant "no chance of relapse."

Now, I'm not saying that what I wanted to hear was realistic.  But it was ugly to hear of any instance where this thing would come back and I spent a few days very dissociated while I adjusted my reality check equipment.

On another front, Helen and Sarah finally got me to an introduction to Yoga at their yoga studio.  This is a pretty serious studio with a set of widely known teachers.  It was very enjoyable and geared to beginners. But it was a serious work out.   I felt pretty debilitated at the start of it, but very much better by the end.   It's not something I had seriously considered before.  But I may give it at try.

Bummer

Ethan Zohn's Hodgkin's has returned.
I think he had one of the bad versions of it.  He needed a stem cell transplant to be cured.

Before, that would have been an "Oh.  Too bad, he seemed like a nice guy.  I remember him from winning Survivor and when he had it the first time." 

Feels different. 

I'm truly sorry to hear of it.