Coming up on crunch time....

Yesterday revealed more information about my acceptance into the clinical trial and my current situation regarding the severity of my cancer and future prospects. Simply put, I need this clinical trial drug to either stabilize the tumor growth or reduce the size of the tumors in my lungs. I have acquired a nasty little dry cough that is due to the spots in my lungs irritating the surrounding areas. You know how you get a scratchy throat and you try to clear your throat, drink some water - anything to get rid of the sensation? I have the same problem only it's in my lungs and coughing or drinking water doesn't do any good.

My first treatment will be on Monday. Sixty minutes getting intravenousous drip, then six HOURS of observation to make sure the drug doesn't make me grow two heads. The known side affects so far is a mild fever, some nausea, and body aches the first night after treatment. If that's the case, this will be a cakewalk for me. Toxicity to chemo has been an issue from day one, with some episodes lasting well over a week and keeping me bedridden for that long if not longer. The clinical drug will be my only treatment so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the side affects are minimal. I will receive treatment every 2 weeks, with lab work and other tests scattered in between.

As usual, there will be a lot more down time than busy time, such is the case for dealing with an institution this size. I keep busy as best I can, but I must admit there is a whole lot of time to do little if anything at all. No lawn to mow, no cars to wash, no floors to vacuum, no dogs to walk, no kids to cook for...you get the idea. I did have my oldest brother out here for a week which was great. We've never been able to spend that kind of one-on-one time together, ever. We talked a lot about everything, shared a bunch of laughs, and even got in a couple rounds of golf. Doesn't get much better than that.

After my appointment yesterday, I left the cancer center in a wicked mode, a combination of disappointment and anger. The disappointment came from a question I asked of my oncologist. How long, left unchecked, do I have until this situation becomes serious? "Some patients can go months and even a couple of years" until the situation becomes serious. I knew I was going to get that type of answer - "not very long". Remember what I've said before. The mantra for cancer patients is to "Hope for the best and expect the worst". I'm still convinced the medical community takes a course in college entitled "Worst Possible Scenario Patient Discussion 101". The outlook is always so bleak, so heavily laced with pessimism. I appreciate the fact they have to be up front and honest with you. Data is data, no arguing that fact, and when the data suggests you have a limited time frame, well then...… The last thing I want is to be mislead into thinking I'm okay and will live to be 100 years old. But at the same time the delivery of the message, simply put, sucks. Part of the problem is I'm a sales guy. Not only can I turn lemons into sweet tasting lemonade, I'll sell a tall cool glass of it to you and make you think you got the best deal of the day. Hey, my initials are BS, what did you expect? Seriously, you can tell me the facts but give me a glimmer of hope to boot. Such is not the case with most folks in the medical community. God bless them all, they have a tough job that at times yields terrible results. Cancer sucks.

The anger side of the situation involves my inability to lay down and give up. There is this small part of me that is prepared to give up, to accept the fact that I have terminal cancer and I need to go peacefully. Whenever I encounter that part of me, I bring out the virtual sledgehammer and beat the hell out of it. I'm going to fight this damned disease until the bitter end. For those of you that do not know me, I'm a pretty laid back guy, not easily rattled, and I can adapt to most any scenario. Yet there is a competitive streak in me that wants to win at all costs, regardless of what I'm doing. The interesting part is I typically keep that driven determination hidden. It is a part of my nature, part of my makeup. You can thumb your nose at me, but I'm going to whip your butt in the end and you probably won't even see it coming until it's too late. I love a good challenge.

Many of you ask how I cope with situations like this or make comments like "there is no way I could go through what you are going through". The truth is I have learned how to adapt. Stuff like this used to freak me out, send me into a panic striken funk. It's different now. There is a split second of dissapointment and frustration, selfish "why me" stuff. When the "why me" enters my mind I've learned to turn it off, and do so NOW. No time to think junk like that. We all are faced with what appears to be insurmountable challenges and you know what? We get through them. Some of us do a better job than others. My secret is this - the true peace comes when I think of one, simple thought. Something that immediately brings a smile to my face and a comfortable warmth to my soul. Something that makes me realize it's all going to be okay. What is it? Heaven. If you believe in salvation, you know there is a heaven where the streets are paved with gold, where there is no pain, no suffering, no cancer, nothing at all negative. If I die tomorrow, I know I'm in good hands, and I'm not talking about Allstate. The good Lord has got a grip on me and it's a good one. He will protect me. Do I want to die tomorrow? Hell no. I have a wife and kids and a lot of living yet to do. I love the feeling of the hot sun on my face. I relish the smell of sweet flowers, blooming in all their colorful splendor. There's something about hitting a golf ball exactly like you intended to and grinning from ear to ear when you see the results (and the astonished look of amazement on the faces of your fellow competitors). I love life and I have been blessed beyond comparison. But - if my ticket is punched tomorrow and my time is up - I rejoice in the fact that I get to enter into the visual presence of our creator and enter into a land where there is no pain, where this is no suffering, where cancer does not exist. That's not a bad thing.

Tomorrow is consumed with waiting for a PET scan. I'm on the schedule for 1:30, but you have to fast for at least 6 hours prior to the scan. The heck with that, I'm showing up first thing in the morning and beg them to work me in so I can eat something before 6PM! It takes a total of at least 3 hours for the scan and the required "down time" after the scan. If I have to wait until 1:30, then I won't get out of the cancer center until 5 or 6PM. Forget that! Stay tuned.

Till next time...Brian.