. . . and the kitchen sink.

I met with my primary care physician this morning. It’s nice to work with a doctor that also happens to be a great guy. My good deed for the morning was to immediately tell him “It’s okay – I’ve seen the report” when he walked into the examining room, relieving him of that difficult duty. He acknowledged that this situation is way over his head and indicated that he has made appointments for me with two specialists: the aforementioned oncologist, and a vascular surgeon that will perform a core biopsy next Tuesday afternoon.

The oncologist apparently indicated that while this is likely to be recurrent liposarcoma, it is not unprecedented for cancer to “return” as a different type. Because chemotherapy regimens can be variable depending on the target cancer, a biopsy is required to avoid a patient undergoing a course of therapy that is poorly suited to address the underlying problem. I believe it makes sense to be absolutely certain of what we are dealing with here before we start selecting poisons. So I have agreed to the biopsy procedure. Additional imaging studies that might be of use to “stage” the cancer will be discussed at Tuesday’s appointment. But I don’t think you need a medical degree to conclude that when it’s in your heart, musculature, and pelvis, the stage is “not good”.

The seeds of a formidable counter attack against this cancer are beginning to germinate in this head of mine. Those that know me well will not be surprised to learn that it will be equal parts wacky and wonderful. Well, maybe a slight bias in favor of wacky. It will be an “everything including the kitchen sink” approach, except for treatment paths that I consider to have greater risk than potential benefit. I’ll post the plan once it is fleshed out in greater detail.

The situation isn’t rosy but I’m a tenacious fighter with an indomitable spirit. This cancer will have to bring its A-game if it is to have a chance of taking me down. I’ve beaten it twice before. And I’ve now got my sights set on the Triple Crown (they weren't giving me horse medicine for nothing). Hold on to your hats – it’s going to be a wild ride.