Hoping for a great sunrise

 

The PET scan I had a week ago confirmed the bad news. My cancer has returned in almost the same place where it was surgically removed in June, and it's brought along a smaller buddy higher up in my right lung. 

We met with the oncologist a few days ago and agreed the best course of treatment is to try to get into a clinical trial that holds some promise for beating back leiomyosarcoma. There are a few hurdles to clear first, such as having a needle biopsy to confirm the cancer culprit's identify, even though we are 99.99% sure we know exactly who the bastard is. We've seen him before. 

But clinical trials have to follow strict protocols in order to ultimately win FDA approval for the drugs they test, so we're trying to get those T's crossed and I's dotted now so the chemo can start ASAP.

As I wait to get cleared for chemotherapy, I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. It's not because of what I might say but because there is some fluid buildup in my lungs from the growing tumors and I am having trouble talking without coughing every few words right now. Good thing my strength is writing, not speaking.

Here's the part I like best -- the name of this particular clinical trial is Sunrise. How beautiful is that? I'm all for seeing many more sunrises.

I have two prayer requests, for those who are so inclined: Please pray for me to get into the clinical trial as soon as possible, and please pray for me to actually receive the new drug they are testing as well as a proven chemotherapy drug that has had some success with sarcoma. The clinical trial coordinator says two of three participants in the study will receive the new drug while one of three will get a placebo along with the already approved drug. 

I am very thankful for all who follow my blog and add me to your prayers. I wish many beautiful sunrises for you as well. 

Is you is or is you ain't?

How are you with Rorschach tests? Or those optical illusion pictures that can be two different things, either an old lady in a scarf or a young woman looking away, depending on your perspective.

That's kind of how my latest CT scans look to my OSU James Cancer Hospital physicians. A radiologist and the medical oncologist that we saw on Wednesday look at the shadow between my heart and right lung and see a tumor returning in the area where a larger mass was taken out in June. 

But the surgeon sees a more positive possibility -- maybe the shadow is just a space where the lung hasn't yet filled in to the void where the sarcoma tumor was extracted. 

So TC and I left the medical visit with two very different possible scenarios, and lots of uncomfortable thoughts. 

In the next 10 days or so, tests on blood drawn yesterday and a PET scan on Oct. 20 should reveal the shadow's true nature. If it turns out to be the return of my sarcoma, then we'll have decisions to make about chemotherapy (maybe in a clinical trial) and/or targeted radiation. The oncologist does not believe surgery would be an option, but I would still want to consult the surgeon to hear it from him. 

Meanwhile, I am feeling fine and as healthy and strong as ever. All prayers and positive thoughts are appreciated for this mysterious shadow to turn out to be nothing of concern.