Camden, I enjoyed seeing and talking to you, Adalia, and Reed yesterday via Facetime. I’m still hoping to understand how technology works.  I wonder if I will ever get it.  Don’t answer that question.

What I didn’t get to talk to you and your mom about yesterday were the results of my recent tests and scans. 

I have spoken to your Aunt Amy and Uncle Justin, but not your mom.  I did not have the opportunity to bring it up yesterday.  Maybe I should call.  Your mom is so busy.

What you ask is so important. I am not sure it is that important, but she always wants to know about my visits with my medical crew. A few other people have also asked me recently, so here is a little update.

You know that it has now been three months since finishing my radiation treatments.  Three months is the time period they wanted to pass to determine how the new drug with radiation combo had worked.

I had started a new cancer drug about a month before the first radiation treatment.  A pill that I take once a day.  It replaced the shots I received at the Cancer Center.

I had hoped the recent treatments would have destroyed or at least shrunk the BAT.  Big Ass Tumor… in case you did not read the last update.  If not destroyed, then shrunk to a size I would not have to worry about for a while.

That was my hope.  That is not what happened.  I’m still hopeful. 

To explain what has happened, let’s go back a few months. A month after my last radiation treatment, my blood was checked.  The test showed that my cancer number was down.  Way down!  I had not had a number that low for many years.  I was happy, and my medical oncologist was happy.

That day my meeting with my MO was going well.  Now, it was time for me to change the room’s mood.  You see, I do not like the cancer meds’ side effects.  I wanted to ask for a drug holiday. 

A friend recently asked me about the side effects.  I explained they made me feel like I had the flu.  A few other bad things, but probably the more concerning side effects that I did not mention to my friend are high blood pressure with the increased risk of heart attack and stroke.  I take three different blood pressure medications.  I take drugs to combat the side effects of other drugs.  It sucks.  So, I asked for a drug holiday.

The conversation went like this:  Doc, you know that new medicine I am on.  Yes, of course you do.  You gave it to me.  Well, I want to stop taking it.  I’m not too fond of the side effects, and with this low number, I feel that I could give it a rest and let my body recover.  What do you think?

Asking what he thought of my idea may not have been the best strategy.  I was a little worried…but it worked.  Hell, he agreed with me.

The good Doc, today he is a good Doc, said that the drug was very toxic.  He said TOXIC.  I didn’t say it, he did.  He said that he had no problem with me TEMPORARILY going off the medication.

Wow!  I didn’t even have to put him in a headlock and give him a noogie.  My people skills are getting better.  I was happy.  Thank you, Dale Carnegie. 

So, since I was going off the toxic poison, the question needed to be asked if it was the drug or the radiation that sent my number tumbling.  Kinda like the one-two-punch of Walker and Texas Ranger.  Wait a minute, is that one or two people?  I never really watched the show.  I do know that Chuck Norris is a badass.

On May 13^th, I learned that Brutus was also a badass. 

On May 13^th, my test showed that Brutus had tripled.  I was hoping that my number would continue dropping.  Down, down, down is where I want it.  Damn!

So, is it because I stopped taking the drug?  Or is it because the tumor has recovered from the radiation and is growing? 

Either way, we have options.  So, I need to take my mind off this situation (easier said than done), wait for all the data, and then figure out a plan.

To make that plan, I need a new brain scan.  That was next.

On May 20^th, I spoke with my MO about the results of that scan.

Before meeting with the doctor, I had not bothered to get a copy of the MRI report.  I usually have to argue with three people before they give it to me.  Something about them wanting the doctor to go over it with me.  Well, let me tell you, they do not go over it.  They cherry-pick what they want to talk about.  I guess we all do that. 

I am tired of that battle.  I decided to be surprised.  I figured that it was going to be a good surprise.  It was not.

I was told that I had received “very little benefit” from the radiation.

What you talking about Doc!?

The BAT was still a BAT.  I had hoped for a LAT.

The tumor had shrunk from around 26 mm to 24 mm.  It still filled up most of the area of my clivus bone.  Not much shrinkage. 

Shrinkage…shrinkage…let’s talk about shrinkage. 

Maybe I should dunk my head into a cold swimming pool for more shrinkage.  Maybe.

Anyway, whenever I hear that word, I think of George Costanza.  YouTube search “shrinkage George Costanza” for a good laugh.  At least it was a good laugh for me.  That is all that matters.  My apologies to my female readers.  It appears that women are my biggest audience.  The four or five guys who read this will laugh.

If you do not laugh, I have to ask, “Are you really my friend?”

Okay, even if you do not laugh, we are still friends.  I cannot afford to lose the few I have.  Moving on. 

The good Doc told me that my drug holiday was soon going to end.  Damn!

In a month, he wanted my numbers tested and a new scan.  Then, back on the drug.  Double Damn! 

I did not feel many positive vibes from my MO, so I wondered what the radiation oncologist would say. Two days later, I was in the RO office.

The doctor was not there, so I spoke to the nurse practitioner.  She was a very nice lady. 

We talked about shrinkage, and I smiled.  George was on my mind.

She told me that it was possible that, over the next few months, the BAT might continue to shrink. 

She emphasized, “possible.”  She wanted me to know that it also might not shrink anymore.

I learned that the area could be radiated one more time.  The question is, when do I want to do that?  Now was not the time. 

She pointed out that at least the tumor had not grown in three months.  That is a positive.

I need to be positive.  I need to have hope.

There is no sense worrying about the unknowns.  Almost everything is unknown in the cancer world, so you must find a way not to worry and be happy.  You know, “Don’t Worry…Be Happy!”  Great song.

I’m still hoping that the tumor will continue to shrink.

I’m still hoping that the medications will continue to work and that it will take a long time before Brutus develops immunity.

I’m still hoping to travel.  You know there are a few billion people on this planet that I have not yet met.  I want to see what I can do about that. 

I’m still hoping to love and be loved. 

I am positive that I will continue to live life the best I can with as much adventure as possible.

This afternoon, May 25^th, I leave on a seven-day storm-chasing excursion. 

Camden, I will send pictures.

A few minutes ago, I got a call from the meteorologist leading us to death; I’m just kidding. 

We are leaving this afternoon due to the storm activity forecast for the Wichita area.  We were supposed to leave Sunday.  I already feel the adrenaline rush.

Due to the weather, this update is a little rushed.  Hope it makes sense.

Talk later.

I Am Winning.

Kevin