Long pause . . .

I wish I could say that my hiatus from the blog has simply been for dramatic effect. But the truth is that I’ve been suffering too much to sit at the computer and string together a series of coherent thoughts. The fact that I now find myself propped up at my desk is a good sign, however, and hopefully portends well for a return to semi-normal activities. Sports fan though I am, I’ve watched so much football recently that I actually understand the BCS ranking system – scary territory, indeed.

On the medical front, one of the tumors in my gut is growing at an alarmingly fast rate. So much so that I think I may need to add an obstetrician to my stable of support personnel just to cover all the bases. If I saw me on the street I’d put my pregnancy at about four months and counting. The tumors in my left hip and/or spinae muscle seem to be impinging on my sciatic nerve, frequently creating a radiating pain. But even though I finally found an opiate that addressed the pain without making me nauseated, it resulted in severe constipation. I am not willing to trade one problem for another, as the solution is as uncomfortable as the problem. Not to mention the frustration of trying to determine whether a worsening condition is caused by the disease or the treatment. So I’ve discontinued the pain killers, and am resigned to just moaning and groaning my way through the discomfort.

On the treatment front, I failed at implementation of the NY2 protocol. The most pills I could consume on any given day was about 40, far short of the required 193. And the coffee enemas created too much cramping – of course, I was also simultaneously dealing with kidney failure during that time, but who’s counting. And so I’ve abandoned that treatment regimen. What’s left? The gorilla in the basement, of course.

Those that know me well will recognize that my willingness to undergo chemotherapy represents a watershed moment in my 16-year battle with this nuisance. It is not a decision that was made lightly. Or easily. But I am seemingly out of options, and am not feeling well enough to maintain the status quo. So it was back to LA1 the week before last. Two of the clinical trials that were under consideration during my initial consultation are temporarily closed to new patients, but the medical director was very optimistic about a third agent (technically “immunotherapy” as opposed to “chemotherapy”). And so I was fast-tracked into that study. The result: two days ago, on my 51st birthday, I submitted to the connection of an IV drip line to my right arm for the purpose of unleashing a squadron of gorillas into my body. This process will be repeated on a weekly basis until, well, who knows when. The purported side effects are relatively minor: fatigue, weight loss, nausea, diarrhea, rash, etc.

In the meantime, the outpouring of love and support from family and friends continues to buoy my spirits. Your expressed sentiments bring me to tears and give me strength. Your kindness, while much more than I deserve, is very much appreciated and gratefully accepted. This is not easy, and is not likely to get any easier anytime soon. I can only promise that I will continue to give this my best shot and make the best decisions that I can. And assure all of you that I feel and appreciate your collective love and support.