Riding across Northern Pacific Bridge No. 9 felt like cycling through a cage this morning. I’m heading to the first of 28 appointments over the next 30 days at the U for my second round of study treatment. The tumor marker that had been climbing consistently has finally dropped slightly, a good sign. Now, my priority is to focus on the space between appointments: the time that belongs to me, not the study.
Category: Cancer
Keeping it normal
Simple tonkotsu udon at Kinzō between medical appointments at the U. Campus is a bright place to be: art exhibitions, student energy, reminders to keep perspective. Cycling to and from keeps things feeling normal.
Up next: two weeks of normal
Up at 3:45 AM for an early start with the final dose of this first phase. I managed to cycle home, but once I walked through the door, I was ready to slump onto the couch. Still, so far, so good. The research oncologist told me that over 80% of men at this stage of their prostate cancer journey have bone metastases. I don’t, and that inspires a massive dose of gratitude. For the next two weeks, apart from routine monitoring, I’m planning on living a normal life.
Occupied territory: finding comfort in a drab room
Another week of daily shots and observation. Mercifully, the lights have dimmers in my drab hospital room. As always, I declined to spend the day sitting up in bed, so they kindly rolled in a recliner, which, I guess, is somewhat similar to sitting up in bed. Continued my reading goal: escape to Japan by learning about a positive period in American history, the post-WWII occupation. Unlike in Germany, the USA governed through the existing Japanese state apparatus.
Kicking the daemon down the road
It was raining, so I walked over to the U. I’ve spent about 30 hours there this week, and my commitment continues in four-week units, depending on the results. At a minimum, I’m helping cancer research, but I’m also hoping to help myself by kicking my daemon further down the road.
Very nearly an armful of blood*
Got my first dose of the study drug, amB7-H3 TriKE. Here, tubes are lined up for one draw (the second of seven draws) as they monitor me over several hours. All of these are strictly for research, so the results won’t show up in my online medical record. *Inspired by a line from the classic 1961 BBC television episode “The Blood Donor” starring British comedian Tony Hancock.
Helping research, helping myself
Posted “Helping research, helping myself.” Click through for a link. Reflecting on a clinical study I’m starting on Monday got me thinking about Britain’s Common Cold Unit (1946–1990) where people volunteered to get the cold or ‘flu.
Helping research, helping myself
Next week, I begin a Phase 1 trial testing a drug designed to prime my natural killer cells against cancer. As only the third patient in the study, I’ll receive daily injections for two weeks. Reflecting on research volunteers brought to mind Britain’s Common Cold Unit (1946–1990), whose work included isolating coronaviruses and testing interferons, paving the way for modern immune-modulating treatments.
Journey to a bowl of joy
Put on one of my “ramen tees,” which still bears the faint evidence of previous splashes that no amount of washing will completely hide. Then, I headed over to the U for a morning of pokes, stabs, and staying motionless for 25 minutes. Afterward, a bowl of tonkotsu udon took me straight to a happy place where everything is all right.
Intermission
There were no takers for pre-show drinks outside, where it was a sweltering 90-plus degrees, but inside Orchestra Hall, the AC was doing a grand job. Following medical scans this afternoon, with more lined up for Monday, a glass of wine and an escape into the world of Britten, Beethoven, and Schumann were most welcome.