Existential angst on stage at the Guthrie tonight; existential choices at the oncologist’s office this morning, with Dwight steady at my side through both. A drug will let us kick the can down the road to the next decision point, pretty much promising a normal life for a few more months. Meanwhile, Didi and Gogo remain trapped by inaction, going nowhere beneath that scrawny tree.
Category: Health
Finding good in each day
We had a lovely Japanese dinner at Misono with my sister-in-law and nephew D, catching up on family news and gossip. Nephew C is now in college, and nephew D will be leaving the nest next year. During the meal, a notification popped up on my phone showing that the report from Friday’s PET scan was available. I ignored it until we got home. It’s not good news, but life is good, and we’ll take this one day at a time.
Another step in the journey
I’m familiar with the prep for today’s PSMA PET scan. A technician is about to inject the radioactive tracer, which comes in a heavy radiation-shielded syringe. The tracer binds to a specific antigen on the surface of prostate cancer cells, emitting positrons that the scanner converts into a reasonably detailed image. It’s an expensive test, but I didn’t hesitate to ask for it at this point in my journey, and I’m grateful my insurance agrees.
Extended eye checkup
A pleasant retinal surgeon at the U seemed determined to use every piece of equipment on my eyes, and he had a lot of it. Three hours later, I staggered out and headed home to the sofa. There was a serious purpose to it all: a potential side effect of the cancer study drug is eye damage. Fortunately, my eyes are fine for my age. Meanwhile, I’m off the study, as the drug proved ineffective for me.
Scanning the dark
For 20 minutes I lie completely still, in a lie-flat seat on an A350, seven miles above the Bering Sea. Outside, it’s night: pitch black below, devoid of any lights from ships or the scattered islands far below. As the radiologist opens my bone scan, searching for points of light, I wish him that same quiet journey.
Lying low
It was a day to lie on the couch and read. The study drug made staying close to home the wiser choice.
Lurking
I’m the mysterious gentleman lurking in the grimy Pedicord Apartments, part of the permanent collection at the U’s Weisman Art Museum. If you lean in to any apartment door, you can eavesdrop on what’s going on inside. I’m between appointments. I’ve just had the most thorough eye exam ever, including a 3D digital model of the inside of my eyes ordered by the study, hence the dark glasses.
High-touch care
Cycled in to the U for week six of the study. Being in the study means receiving an unsustainable level of healthcare: extensive lab workup up to three times a week, time with a physician or PA up to three times a week, blood pressure checked up to ten times a day, weekly ECGs, and scans every 8 weeks.
Rest and good aromas
Lazy day following another energy-sapping round of shots this week. While Dwight cooked, I read, napped, and looked forward to dinner. Everything smells wonderful, including fresh-baked focaccia and lentil soup. He made enough for tomorrow, too, when he sees his mom for lunch.
Winding down the week
It felt like the end of our workweek at Town Hall Brewery, just a few blocks from home. For me, it marked the end of a busy week of 12 tiring medical appointments, including four hours today, with a welcome break until Monday. For Dwight, it capped off his time today in the university greenhouse. The onsite-brewed beers were excellent and paired well with the Happy Hour pulled pork sliders.