Attended a panel discussion on AI in cancer research and care. It’s not the kind of event that would normally catch my eye, but when I received an email from the U about it, I decided to go. My oncologist, a professor at the U who researches recurrent and advanced prostate cancer and uses AI in his work, was one of the featured speakers. Hearing him speak reassured me that his real intelligence and good humor won’t be replaced by a machine anytime soon.
Category: Cancer
I shall never play the violin
I’m grateful for modern science, and for a comforting bowl of tonkotsu udon a couple blocks from the hospital. My oncologist had just recommended a newly developed test that sequences the evolving DNA of the tumor and white blood cells to point toward new, targeted treatments, including immunotherapy. In old movies, it’s a little doctor in Vienna proclaiming, “You shall play the violin again.” In real life, it’s just science.
Riding the line
Cycled over to the U for a blood draw to get the labs done a couple of days ahead of a consult with my oncologist. Over a breakfast bagel in the Coffman Union, this graph came up in MyChart: the tumor marker is taking off again at a fair clip. I’ve been riding this rollercoaster for over 10 years now, and remain hopeful for a few more descents. I’m grateful Dwight rides with me.
The snowbird’s lament
It’s the classic snowbird’s lament: a cluster of medical appointments for us both immediately after returning to winter. Walked over to the U for labs, then headed to nearby Kinzō for some tonkotsu udon. Lab results trickled in as I slurped my comfort food.
Drifting ice, drifting anxieties
The clouds seemed to mimic the icy Mississippi as I walked from a lab draw at the U (in the distance) to our co-op for Christmas ingredients. My phone buzzed occasionally, creating short-lived anxiety as more lab results became available.
After 10 years the can is still kickable
Following appointments at the U this morning, I checked their app periodically while cycling downriver. The news was great: my tumor marker is now “in the weeds,” confirming recent scans that show the tumors are no longer visible. I used the app to communicate with the care team, then returned to the U for a quarterly injection they’d missed. I’ll have just one more infusion in October, skipping the two final planned sessions. I’m grateful.
Planning on a bunch more birthdays
Cycled over to the U for treatment and scans, taking care not to collide with half-awake students. On the way back, the students streaming out of lectures seemed more animated.
Kicking the can down the road
Cycled over to the university for Pluvicto infusion #2. I’m grateful I can keep buying time with new treatments that weren’t available when I was first diagnosed. For the next few days, I’ll try to maintain a safe distance from everyone, including Dwight—a distance about the wheelbase of a bicycle. I’ll show the card I’m holding if I set off a radiation detector.
My atomic bike tour
The word “Atomic” inspired a less-traveled cycle route via Atomic Tattoo, Atomic Data, and Atomic Recycling. For now, I have to stay a bike’s-length from people while excess radioactivity works its way out of my system.
Treatment cycle 1
Walked over to the U for my first Pluvicto infusion, a radiopharmaceutical that selectively delivers radiation to cancer cells in my lymph nodes. The journey continues, with therapies that were not available ten years ago when we first became suspicious something was going on. I’m grateful for every day.