A New Year: Time to Bring the Old System Back Online

Happy 2019! 

In two days my intestines will be reconnected. I will hopefully be functioning somewhat like a regular person in a few short weeks. It may not go that easy. Many folks have urgency and incontinence issues. I've also seen accounts of people having relatively few issues so let's hope for that. I could be in the hospital a few nights depending on how quickly the old systems reboot themselves. The surgery itself will be a few hours and I'll only be having a small incision adjacent to my stoma. I'm hoping this means less pain and a quicker recovery.  For the first time since this all began, I'll be having a surgery where they don't take parts out. 

As for the cancer side of things; I am currently NED (no evidence of disease). A few weeks ago I had a CT scan and blood work. There was nothing to be seen on the scan. The blood work was in the normal range for the first time since they started tracking. The doctor is hopeful that they got it all and my last bit of cancer was just from one random cell that got loose. I will continue to have scans and blood work every 3 months. We obviously hope that we are done with cancer forever but for now are just taking it 3 months at a time. We are more prepared than ever to face whatever obstacles may arise.

Thanks to everyone for your support during another medically challenging year. Everyone has helped so much in various ways. My siblings traveled with me to Minnesota for my initial consultation at the Mayo Clinic. My wife endured a couple very long days in waiting rooms hoping for good results. She spent many long hours by my side in hospital rooms and 'lived' with me in Minnesota for 10 days. My parents and in-laws kept us afloat in various ways that allowed us to continue our 'normal' life as much as possible. Other relatives, friends, and many others helped in many various ways including food, support, love, prayers, and probably a hundred other ways I won't list here. 

Thanks to everyone. I am sending you my wishes for a great 2019!

Limbo

There is a lot of waiting during all of this cancer nonsense. I wait to heal from surgery. I wait for the next surgery I wait for my next scan or blood test. I wait to get a stent out of a ureter. I wait for an infection to clear up. I wait for a traditional toilet break. I am trying not to wait for the end of this nonsense.

The truth is I am in limbo. My last path report was all clear. There may be no cancer growing inside of me. The previous path report was all clear too. There was still cancer growing inside of me. Back in June when I had two stents from the Mayo Clinic removed, I told my urologist he would never be sticking objects up my junk again. I awoke from my October surgery to discover he had indeed stuck objects up my junk again. Two weeks ago I could barely leave the couch due to a UTI that eventually landed me in the ER. This past weekend I did chores and I walked and I felt normal.

Tomorrow I will get the stent out. As I have stated in past posts there are no guarantees. I won't be ringing in bells. Instead I will do my best to enjoy feeling good. My next scans and test will eventually arrive in a few weeks and I'll deal with the results then. I can't wait for this nonsense to end when I have no idea how it will end.

The state of my cancer and more importantly my #1 and #2 situation

Today marks twelve days since my cytoreductive surgery. I followed up with my surgeon this morning. We were informed that my pathology report was cancer free besides the tumor we already know about. There were no positive lymph nodes or evidence of cells elsewhere. This is certainly good news but I think we are, understandably, feeling cautious. and will look forward to the next scan and blood work in December. The surgeon referred to my cancer as Stage IV which I don't like but makes sense with this latest metastasis. It's just a label and doesn't change anything. My oncologist has so far been a beacon of positivity and refuses to put a number on my chances. He very much still believes this is curative. 

At my last appointment with my urologist in September, he had given me the all clear and lamented that he never really got to do any surgical work on me. Well lady luck was on his side. The previous bladder "stretching' during the Mayo surgery had apparently caused some damage to my right ureter which was previously unaffected. The urologist had to remove some of this ureter during the latest surgery. Due to this I again have a foley catheter for a few weeks. So far this hasn't been quite as uncomfortable as my previous catheter. I have been getting spasms again which result from my bladder trying to expel the balloon-like equipment that sits in there now.

I am also learning to deal with my illeostomy. They reattached my colon to my rectum and that portion of my plumbing is getting a couple months off. I have to pay more attention to what I eat now. The illeostomy is a lot more active and dehydration and blockages can be a concern. It's not terrible but I'm thankful to not have it forever.

So in December or January I will get my illeostomy taken down and have an almost fully functioning digestive system. The surgery itself should be smaller than the previous but it will come with it's own challenges. It can take several months before folks feel comfortable enough to stray far from the bathroom. My supply bag of ostomy and catheter supplies may be replaced by adult diapers for awhile. There is a common saying 'no parent should outlive their child'. I'm officially changing it to 'no child should experience adult diapers before their parents".  Anyone know a good local eco-friendly cloth adult diaper service?

The cancer hole

Next Friday I will undergo my 3rd major surgery in a year and a half. My hope from my last post was that this time would not be as intensive as the prior surgery. Well I guess I won't know until I have the experience but it certainly appears that this will rival my previous surgical adventures. 

I will be having a cytoreductive surgery with HIPEC. I believe cyto is derived from a Latin word meaning 'stupid !*$&%ing' cancer' and reductive means 'lets cuts the crap out of the stupid !*$&%ing cancer'. Essentially I will be cut open in the same manner as previous surgeries. They will remove the mass on my small intestine. They will scour the rest of the abdominal cavity for any other tumors and remove them. If at that point they think it is reasonable, my colostomy will be taken down and the little happy guy currently hanging out to the left of my belly button will be reattached to his good friend, the rectum. However I will not be resuming my normal bathroom reading time just yet. They want to ensure the colon reattachment heals properly so they will give that a couple months to relax. For now they will bring a piece of small intestine out of the same spot next to my belly button. Remember the old nursery rhyme about the digestive system/municipal sewer system, "the small bowel comes before the large intestine". Well that means my food won't be quite as digested when it exits and my bag will likely fill up more quickly. Luckily, after the two months are complete they will test the reattachment and if all is as it should be they will put me back together for good.

This surgery has a second part. HIPEC stands for hyperthermic intraperitoneal chemotherapy. After all the removing and reattaching is complete,  they will pump my abdominal cavity (officially known as the peritoneum), full of some powerful heated chemo that will circulate for 100 minutes. In my last post I said that metastasis to the small intestine is very rare from a primary colon cancer. I have since learned that metastasis to the peritoneum is not so rare. It's the second most common site of colon cancer metastasis after the liver (by the way everyone that has viewed my most recent scan thinks my liver is just fine). Cancer cells can float around in the peritoneal fluid and attach to any number of organs or the lining of the cavity. The purpose of this chemotherapy is to apply a high does of chemo to potentially impacted areas without impacting the rest of my body. I've been told I likely won't feel impacts from the chemo but I suspect that is because all the fun feelings from the surgery will be overwhelming. In fact I was told to expect around a 10 day stay in the hospital. This will be my longest stay to date so I've decided to record all the Kavanaugh hearings and watch them in the hospital. NO SPOILERS PLEASE!!!

So we won't know with any certainty the severity of the stupid !*$&%ing cancer until the surgery is complete. My oncologist is hopeful that the mass is just a single recurrence related to one of my surgeries. However, the surgeon I saw this week said the mass is not near the site where they removed some small intestine in May. He also seems to suspect the peritoneal metastasis a bit more. Regardless both doctors still stress we are still working towards a curative result. Today I even had a bit of a panic attack after descending into an internet cancer hole and emailed my oncologist. He says regardless of metastasis or not, "This is absolutely curative." and "I still feel more optimistic than not that we can get this treated definitively." For the next week I will put my faith in these words and focus on preparing for and then recovering from the surgery. 

No guarantees

Over two months have passed since I last added to this blog. During those two months I have been the most active I have been since pre-cancer. I walked, ran and hiked. I enjoyed my family and fully participated in my children's lives again. I socialized and attended events with friends. I worked on our garden and landscaping. I honestly enjoyed the monotony of a standard work week. I did not take pain pills. I was not nauseous. I did not have medical appointments. I tried to enjoy life to the best of my abilities because I know there are no guarantees.

I of course was not without some struggle. I am less than six months out from the Mayo Clinic surgery. I have developed a parastomal hernia. There is no pain associated with this but the old ostomy supplies I was using were no longer lasting. Add in running and lots of summer sweat and  my equipment was coming off after less than a day of use. Ideally, I would get 2 to 3 days out of my supplies. This meant leaks and smells and a lot of dealing with poop. However, I felt good that this was my worst problem. Honestly I felt much worse for Carrie. She has endured some mighty awful odors for me. All things considered, an intestine sticking out of my abdomen is a piece of cake (gross!) compared to cancer treatments and surgeries. I visited an ostomy nurse and ordered samples online eventually settling on some supplies that last as long as I would like, even with a more active life.

Last week I had a follow-up with my radiation oncologist. This appointment would just be me checking in with her, telling her how great I feel, thanking her and shaking hands hopefully to never interact in a medical capacity again. Cancer treatment is interesting in that we have met so many wonderful people that we hope to never have to see again. The appointment went essentially as planned. However, before I left they took blood for some tests. I was not expecting to do this until next month but it certainly was not going to hurt to check. I left before the results were in and would check them on my phone later.

Well later, as I drove down I-25 at top speeds I might have looked at my phone. I know you are all horrified. My metabolic panel looked healthy. So did my CBC. One more test was left to view. The dreaded carcinoembryonic antigen or CEA for short. CEA is a type of protein secreted in gastro-intestinal cells that all of us have at a very low level. These level can increase with some cancers such as colon cancer. It cannot be used to for diagnosis one way or the other but is often a good marker in certain individuals. So far I have proved to be one of these individuals. Every time I've had cancer growing inside my CEA has gone up. Every time I've received treatment or surgery it has gone down. A normal non-smoking adult will have a level usually below 3. I've never had a number below 5 but I also never had it tested before cancer. It's not something measured on healthy people. Before my first surgery in the spring of 2017 it was around 20. A day or two after surgery it was around 5. When I was having major pain last December and it was around 40. After my 5 weeks of radiation treatment it was around 5. Just before my Mayo Clinic surgery it was creeping up to around 8 which made sense to me since the cancer wasn't out yet and I was two months past radiation. This July at my first post surgery oncology check in it was 5.

Now that you know a little about CEA lets return to me barreling down a highway. I clicked on the test, viewed the results and let out a string of curse words so powerful that I swerved off a bridge, rolled down a ravine, collided a bus full of the most kind, peaceful nuns and both vehicle exploded; an event which resulted in the Colorado State Legislature making it illegal to check medical results while driving. At least, that is sort of how it felt. My CEA number was 27.  What actually resulted was the pushing up of my scheduled October CT scan and my next appointment with my medical oncologist.  The CT scan shows something. A mystery spot on my small intestine. There are many uncertainties with this one. First, colon cancer rarely if ever metastasizes to the small intestine. Second, it doesn't look like a tumor to the doctors that have reviewed it. Finally, those doctors don't seem so sure what it looks like.

The initial plan was to watch it for two months and see if it grew. However, my mystery spot was then presented to the hospital's surgical oncologists who seemed to have convinced my oncologist that it is probably not worth the risk to wait especially since my CEA has so far been a good indicator of what is going on inside. I tend to agree with their sentiment. Next week I will meet with a surgical oncologist in Denver and if I chose to move forward will likely have a surgery sometime in the coming weeks. I am also going to consult with my Mayo Clinic surgeon to see if he has thoughts on the scan results.

This certainly is a surprise to us but we are more equipped than ever to roll with the punches. I know very little about the surgery at this point (basically nothing). I will provide another update before it happens. I hope it won't be as intensive as the two previous ones.  I hope my downtime is short. I hope this is the last one but there are no guarantees.

Post Surgery Scan

I have been avoiding doing another blog post until I had good news. Now I am happy to report that my first post treatment/surgery scan and blood work has come back with no evidence of cancer. During the past few weeks I have felt better than I have in a year and a half. I am running again and have resumed a mostly normal life of work and family. 

After my last post, I struggled until around mid-June with urinary tract infections brought on by the catheter I had in until 5/29 and the uretal stents I had in until 6/20. Originally I was given an ineffective antibiotic before being switched to something stronger. Once the stents came out I felt an almost immediate relief and return of energy. I then peed all over my procedure chair which was also relieving. Ever since I've had a daily internal debate about what I hate more; the NG tube insertion I had in the hospital or the cystoscopy with the stent removal (look these up on youtube if you are unfamiliar). I think I've decided but won't say. I don't want to influence anyone's opinion. 

There are still of course concerns. My oncologist says he will watch me like a hawk this first year or two since that is when recurrence is mostly likely to occur. The scan also showed some abnormalities related to the surgery. There are still some abormalities in my urinary tract. The right side the system is showing some hydronephrosis. The left side is showing diffuse hydroureteronephrosis. Yeah I know, fun medical terms! My understanding is that these involves the backing up of fluid. The fact that my right side is involved is interesting since that side was not involved with my cancer but I have noticed a little pain there this past week when using the restroom. However, my oncologists thinks this may be a result of the bladder being reshaped during surgery. He will consult with my urologist but I am already scheduled to have renal study in September. During this they will basically image my urinary tract and determine how it is flowing. 

I also have some pockets of fluid in my abdomen that may resolve themselves but my surgeon at Mayo is going to be consulted regarding this. Nothing may come of either of these issues and the issues may mend on their own but we will keep an eye on them. Finally, my oncologist seemed to really think after a year of being cancer free I should push to have my ostomy taken down. I would likely return to the surgeon at Mayo for that surgery. 

As long as I am feeling healthy I will likely post less on this blog. If you don't here anything for awhile it is likely good or maybe the hydroureteronephrosis took me down. It is a condition with a lot of letters after all. I will post again in a couple months, after I have my next round of bloodwork and scans. Once again I can't thank everyone enough for you love and support. Thanks so much. 

The Surgery

Carrie and I awoke in the Minnesota dark at 430 am on Friday May 4th after a rough night for me of bowel prep. We gathered our belongings and made the 15 minute walk to the Methodist hospital on the cool spring morning. At the front desk I was given my inpatient hospital band and sent upstairs for the first step of surgical prep. My vitals were taken and after going through many questions a couple different times I was sent to another floor for more prep and Carrie was sent to a waiting area. In the second prep area I was given a bed and a curtain separated me from the many other patients preparing for their operations. My chest port was accessed which always involves a saline flush which can be tasted as it is injected. Another nurse came in and shaved my belly.  I was visited by one of the surgeon's resident, one of the urologist and by the anesthesiologist. Throughout it all there was a lot of small talk regarding Colorado and my family.

Eventually an operating nurse came in to wheel me away. I was taken to the largest operating room I have yet seen. It seemed to me there were at least twenty different people buzzing around the room preparing for who knows what. There was a large machine on one side of the room similar to the radiation machine I had encountered during treatment. Someone began to talk to me again about Colorado and about hiking and then a breathing mask was put over my mouth and I was out.

I awoke somewhere around 12 hours later being lifted by several people and a ceiling sling into my hospital bed. I was very out of it but reached down to my abdomen. I still had an ostomy bag right where it had been that morning. Uncertain about what was done to me I managed to get a nurse to give me a phone and called Carrie. She had gone home after a very long day of waiting and being told that I might not even really be awake that night. She didn't know much more than me but they had left my ostomy due to having to remove more of the rectal portion of my colon than expected.

The next morning my surgeon came in and I was given some clarity about the surgical proceedings. The tumor had been slightly larger than scans had shown. They took more colon than planned and decided is was best to have a year or two of monitoring before my ostomy could be taken down. The tumor did not have issues with any major arteries or veins so the vascular surgeons did not have to be involved. Unfortunately both of my left-sided ureters were involved. Large pieces had to be removed. The urologists then stretched my bladder up to meet the remaining ureters. A small piece of small intestine was also removed. The surgeon was confident that all cancer was removed.

The surgeon did give me a piece of information that I am still chewing on. He told me that there was an area of blood vessels (the area that had been my positive margin after the first surgery) that should have been removed during my first surgery. He said it was a fairly standard part of the procedure and didn't understand why it was not done at the time.

I have much more to write about my hospitalization and recovery which I'm still in the midst of. Things still aren't functioning normally and I had a few rough days mentally and physically in the hospital. I will document all of that in the near future but for now will leave you with this. I received my pathology report last week before leaving the hospital. All margins negative for cancer. Urerters negative for cancer. Small bowel negative for cancer. To the best of my current knowledge I am negative for cancer.

Rainbows, Norse Gods, and surgery

Carrie and I arrived in Minneapolis on Tuesday evening. As we drove south to Rochester, home of the Mayo Clinic, the skies grew dark until we eventually were in the midst of a downpour. The storm continued across the Minnesota countryside until our destination came into view and we could see a rainbow arching above the Mayo buildings in downtown Rochester. Surely that was a sign that all would go well with my surgery and that my cancer would get it's buttocks thoroughly  whooped by my world class medical team. Then a lightening bolt crackled across the rainbow above the city. Surely that was a sign that Thor, god of lightening, was prepared to smite this terrible disease. I don't know. I'm not particularly superstitious but it's nice to pretend.

Tomorrow morning I will go into the hospital around 530 am for surgery. In preparation I have had eight different appointments over the last two days including blood work, urine tests, CT scan,   urology consultation, surgical consultation, oncology consultation, and vascular surgeon consultation. There are many unknowns with the surgery. I may require some removal/reconstruction of a ureters and an artery. I will likely receive a blood transfusion. Tonight I must do some bowel prep and in case you don't know it's going to be a blast. Tomorrow when I go in there will be a couple hours of prep. The surgery itself could take around 5 hours. I will be in recovery for a couple hours before getting moved to a hospital room.

At this point the process is out of our hands and we must wait and see. So much depends on the positioning of such a small mass of cells. I will know nothing until I awake from the anesthesia. Carrie will spend a long day waiting for updates and keeping others updated. May rainbows, lightening, Thor and all of our loved ones be throwing their support behind us. I love you all and will be posting sometime soon on the other side of this surgery.

A brief stint with a stent

Around 5 weeks have passed since my curd-filled trip to the Mayo clinic and in four weeks I will return for more curds (plus a major surgery). During March I kept active with some running and always getting my 10000 steps in. Cale will be running the Bolder Boulder again this year so I'm trying to make sure he is sticking to his training plan. We've been staying  busy with work, school, extracurriculars, soccer and relaxation  I've started building our garden area and will hopefully finish before traveling to Minnesota. I had many normal days where cancer did not dominate but unfortunately the beast has crept back.

Shortly after returning from Mayo I was contacted by a urologist there advising me to get a stent in my left ureter prior to surgery. There were concerns that if the tumor started to grow again the ureters could be further constricted and my kidney could be damaged. So on Monday of this week I returned to my favorite Denver hospital so my urologist could insert a small plastic tube up my urinary tract. Luckily, I was put out for the procedure. If you recall from my early post I am one of the lucky 1% with a double ureter setup on one of my kidneys. The urologist decided that only the upper left ureter needed the stent. I felt fairly normal after the procedure with the exception of some colorful urine. On Tuesday I began to experience sharp pain while urinating. It has since gotten better but is still there. Almost a year ago the cancer took all  the fun out of #2 and now it has taken the fun out of #1.

Now if my only concern was the stent I probably wouldn't complain but over the last two weeks I have started to experience pain similar to what occurred back in December before radiation. I have a cabinet full of various pain medications and for the most part can manage to function normally. Nighttime is the worst and my sleep is impacted. The doctors seem to believe it is inflammation from tissue healing after all the radiation.

The plan at this point in time is to push through this month, maintain a positive outlook, and
hopefully four weeks from now the beast will be destroyed and I will have a greater appreciation for #2, #1, and just about everything life has to offer.

Curds and Mayo

On Sunday my sister and I traveled to Minnesota for my consultation at the Mayo Clinic. The hospital is just over an hours drive from Minneapolis and we both got our first taste of Minnesota. There was plenty of blowing snow but a clerk at the gas station pointed out what a nice day it was compared to the rest of February (and probably the previous few months). I pointed out some gas station cheese curds and bought them. It seemed only appropriate given our upper midwest location. We arrived at our rental house in Rochester full on curds and ready for a new chapter to my medical adventures. My brother arrived from Maine later in the evening.

Rochester is a city of about 100000 people and well over half of them work for the Mayo Clinic. The city has a small downtown area packed full of tall building that are all part of the hospital. There is a underground level that connects the various buildings. In a strange way it is sort of the Disneyland of hospitals. The first stop on Monday was to get some blood drawn for tests. My second appointment was with the MRI machine. I got a bit of a scare when one nurse could not get blood to flow through my chest port. It had been seven weeks since it had been accessed which is the longest I had gone since it was installed. Clots can form in the tubes if it isn't flushed regularly. Luckily another nurse was able to get the blood flowing. MRI machines are very loud and they gave me ear plugs and headphones. Sometimes I got instructions to hold my breath but mostly I just laid in the machine for around 40 minutes. Next was  a CT scan. I think I'm a pro at these now. The contrast they inject gives you a 'oops-I-wet-my-pants feeling' but it didn't even phase me this time. Nice try CT scan!

After some lunch, where we may or may not have eaten some fried brie cheese curds, we had a meeting with a GI medical oncologist. First we met with a nurse practitioner who seemed to be the one responsible for coordinating all the different doctors on my care team. Then we met with the oncologist. He showed us the results of the CT scan. My tumor was pretty much the same size as my last scan in December. This is a good sign that my radiation treatment had worked and there was no growth. My tumor marker blood test (CEA) had dropped to 4.9 which was down from 40 something at the start of radiation treatment. This was another good sign. My original oncologist in Fort Collins had told me back in December that I was likely stage 4 now. The Mayo onc told me this wasn't the case and my current tumor is just a continuation of the tumor that was removed so I am still stage 2. The surgeons back in April likely didn't even see anything since the cancer may have just been some cells in this area of colon.

This doctor didn't have much specific info regarding my planned surgery but we did discuss some more general topics like why he thought there was an increase in colon cancer in younger people (a change in the gut biome likely caused by our wonderful American diets). He also mentioned new studies showing the dangers of mayonnaise which seemed oddly specific. Just for the record I don't eat mayonnaise. We left that appointment thankful he didn't say anything about cheese curds. However, at that evening's dinner we did skip the curds (and yes they were on the menu everywhere) and opted for a chicken sandwich with asparagus on the side.

The next day we first met with a couple of radiation oncologists. They were better equipped to talk about my surgery and what exactly they would be doing. The main reason I traveled to the Mayo Clinic was for inter-operative radiation, an option unavailable to me in Colorado. They basically move all your healthy organs out the way while you are opened up and give any nasty spots an extra high dosage of radiation.

My final appointment of the day was with the GI surgeon. He seemed very well prepared for me and very confident in his proposed courses of action. Basically, what I already knew was my tumor is doing some awkward stuff with my Iliac artery, some nerves, and my ureter. What I didn't know if it is also touching my small intestine. This means during the surgery not only will they remove the piece of my colon that the tumor is sitting on but they will also remove a little piece of my small intestine. Supposedly this should not be noticeable to me and my digestion in any way. The situation seems a little more questionable when it comes to the artery and ureter. A vascular surgeon will be involved with the surgery and they may have to resect/reroute the artery. A urologist will be involved and they may have resect the ureter then reattach it to the bladder. Regardless of all that he thinks the surgery is very much curative and I will only be in the hospital 3 to 5 days. The great news regarding the surgery is that he thinks they can also reattach my colon and I can lose the bag. The surgery is scheduled for May 4th. I still have some questions I am trying to resolve but overall feel good about the doctors and hospital.

We left that appointment hoping to meet with the vascular surgeon and urologist before we left town on Wednesday afternoon but unfortunately it did not happen. My brother left for the airport Wednesday morning. My sister and I went for a hike at a local natural area then drove up to Minneapolis where we took a good gander at the mighty Mississippi then enjoyed a brewpub before heading to the airport and yes we did order the cheese curds.

No Bells For Now

Yesterday was the 25th and final day of my radiation treatments as well as my last dose of chemo pills. When asked by one of the radiation techs if  I had any celebration plans I replied that I am celebrating with cautious optimism. When I finished my initial chemo treatment back on November 1st I rang the bell in the clinic and the staff recited an inspirational verse. I appreciated the ceremony of it all but yesterday I decided not to ring the clinic bell.

Since my last blog update I have felt better in every way. I still have no physical pain and I have the nausea under control. I could still have side affects the next couple weeks but based on how I've been feeling the docs seem to think I should be fine. I now have two weeks of normal living ahead. I have missed the monotony of daily life. I will go to work at my regular time and leave at a regular time. I will pick kids up from school and activities. I won't take 6 giant chemo pills everyday. I won't drive to Denver everyday.

Beyond these two weeks, I have a vacation/sibling reunion planned in sunny Rochester, MN. Joni, John and I have rented a house for a few nights and will be partaking in such exciting events as various oncology consultations, CT and MRI scans, and blood work not to mention our planned reenactment of the classic film Fargo. While there the docs at the Mayo Clinic will come up with a plan for surgery. The surgery should happen in the second half of March. I'm hoping to avoid any surprises in the scans or blood work but we will deal with whatever happens. Beyond that I really have no idea what will happen but hopefully will involve the vigorous ringing of many bells.

Warhammer of Emotional Messiness

I am now over  halfway through my radiation treatment. I am happy to report that I am no longer taking any opiod medication. Over the last week I have been able to come off of the morphine and oxy without issue. The excruciating pain I was in just a few weeks ago is now non-existent. This means the radiation is working and the tumor is likely shrinking.

I am having some fairly standard side effects from the radiation and chemo pills. Fatigue has set in and I am pretty much able to sleep on-will but it never feels like enough. Nausea has also decided to show up. During my six months of chemo I did not throw up once. Well during the past weeks I have thrown up at home, in multiple vehicles and at work. I apologize to the few poor souls that had to witness one of these events. I always have barf bags at the ready now. They compliment my extra supply of poop bags nicely.

I am going to be open and honest about my current experience. This week I have been hit with the Warhammer of Emotional Messiness. I'm going to go ahead and claim it as another side effect. Much like my sleep, I have been able to cry on-will. I have had depression issues in the past but that never really made me a blubbering mess. Through out my cancer journey I have remained relatively calm and stoic. This week I cried one day on the radiation table. I cried at a sad song. I cried when I had a bag leak. The best part of it all was when I met with a palliative care doctor on Monday. I thought I was just there to talk about pain management and to make sure I was doing okay coming off the medications. Instead I sat in a room with the doctor, a nurse and a chaplain for an hour discussing my entire journey. It was a group therapy of sorts and I was the main attraction. We talked about my support system, my end of life preferences, grieving the loss of my pre-cancer life and all the other fun stuff one finds themselves discussing with strangers on a Monday morning.

I know I use humor to deflect the seriousness of my situation and that will continue to serve as useful tool. Having the Warhammer of Emotional Messiness smash down on my rather large noggin has perhaps given me a new tool. From last spring until November I was focused on the step by step process to get rid of the cancer. When I was told in December that I still had cancer I had little time to process the news before the physical pain took over. Now that pain is gone and I guess it's time to deal with a different pain. Don't worry. I will laugh at myself every time I cry over (literal) spilled poop.

Thanks everyone for your continued support. I really appreciate the company I have had on my daily trips to Denver. I'll do my best not to throw up in your cars but if you put on some mournful country ballad I will cry in your cars.

Radiation Week 1

At lot has happened since my last update. The week of Christmas I continued to have severe pain and decided to make another trip down to Denver to see if they could help (12/29). I was put on a slow release morphine pill along with the Oxy and Tylenol I was already on. It seemed to help for a few days but the severe pain returned after New Years. On the first day of my radiation (1/8) they decided to up my morphine. I also started supplementing the pain medicine with some cannabis products and have felt a lot better over the last week. It's hard to say if it's the increased morphine, cannabis or the radiation but I am grateful to currently be feeling good. I am going to start working with a palliative care nurse to help with the pain management side of things and to help get off the pills as I get better.

The first week of radiation has been pretty easy. For the actual radiation I am giving a pager when I check in. When the pager goes off I go to a changing room where I put on a fashionable hospital gown or two. I then wait for the phone to ring and for the techs to summon me to the radiation room. Once in the room I climb onto the table and lie on my stomach into the mold that was created last month. The techs then make sure everything is lined up. They then leave the room and shoot me with radiation. The machine makes a lot of noise but I don't feel anything. The whole process takes about 15 minutes. So far I have not noticed any negative side effects from the radiation. I also take six chemo pills every radiation day.

Once a week I'll meet with both my radiation and medical oncologist. This week there was not much new to report from them. I also saw a urologist this week regarding my mutant ureter and will be undergoing a couple tests over the next couple weeks to see if the tumor is creating issues on that front. Finally I have started to make plans for a trip to the Mayo Clinic at the end of February. This will involve tests and appointments with several different doctors to discuss my upcoming surgery. I'm sure Minnesota in February will be wonderful.

I'll try to keep everyone updated as things move along. So far so good!

Joni's Race Report

Below is the race report from my sister Joni's 100 mile run. She raised a ton on money for me and for the Colrectal Cancer Alliance:

I traveled down to Phoenix on Thursday night with Hoa and Laurie. We stayed at a hotel to get the best rest possible. I managed to get about 7 hours of sleep, which is a little on the low end for me. Likewise, I spent the previous week battling off some sort of sickness that left me with a stiff neck and back. So, I was a bit more nervous than usual before a race.

We arrived at Camel Back Ranch at 7:30am on Friday to set up and to cheer on Chavet, Lisa, and Melissa, who were finishing the first day. It was in the 40’s and chilly, but warmed up quickly once the sun came out. Araivapa staff and volunteers were in the middle of a hilarious dance party. We saw Chavet and Melissa come by. Chavet was more than 110 miles in and ended up with 2nd overall female in the 24-hour race. Melissa had far surpassed her goal and made it to 50 miles. Lisa finished 50 miles the day before and was getting in bonus miles.

Start time seemed to come fast. My strategy was to ease into the first several miles. I planned to use intervals of 5 minutes running to 1 minute walking for as long as I could. The course was a little more than a mile and circled several baseball fields – the spring training facility for the LA Dodgers and Chicago White Sox. It was mostly crushed gravel, with two short portions of pavement and asphalt. A large portion of the loop was shaded, which offered relief from the heat. There were two aid stations. One was stocked with food, water, soda, etc. The other with mainly just fluids. Most runners set up their own version of aid stations along the course. Melissa, Lisa, and Shannon (Lisa’s husband) were staying in an RV on the opposite side of the loop, so I was able to leave a few items on their table and stop for breaks as needed. I didn’t bring much of my own food. I’ve found in the past I tend to do just fine eating what the aid station has to offer.

I warmed up quickly and felt good. I started with my handheld water bottle. I made sure to eat every hour and drink every time I had a walk break. I began to experience my first lull around mile 17, but wasn’t worried at this is a common point for me to feel this way. When I passed mile 25, I slowed down and walked a loop while having a beer and food. The beer break put some pep in my step, and it was cooling down. The temperature had gotten up to the mid 70’s, but I managed to stay on top of hydrating and dumped water on my head every few loops to cool down. Soon after, I passed the 50K mark with my 3rd fastest time for that distance. I was hoping to finish 50 miles in about 12 hours.

After mile 35, the sun was setting, and I changed into warmer clothes. Also, it was time for dinner. They were serving tamales. Honestly, I was hesitant to eat them. I love tamales, but I was afraid they might upset my stomach. However, I was hungry, and I knew I needed substantial food. The next few laps I took it easy so I could digest. Runners were starting to thin out as the evening progressed - many of the multi-day runners like to sleep at night. I went into the race thinking I would go straight through the night. However, by this point, I settled on continuing until midnight, and then taking a short nap. I was feeling decent still but slowing down, and I knew a nap would help.

I reached mile 50 in a little over 12 hours. To celebrate, I took a break in the RV with Melissa. I had another beer, put my feet up, and did a little stretching. I reluctantly left the comfort of the RV and went out to get in a few easy laps before I napped. I joined another runner who was close to her 100-mile goal. We walked and talked, and I made it to 54 miles before I decided to stop.

At this point, Hoa and Laurie, who were signed up for the 24-hour race, were still going strong. Laurie was aiming for 100 miles, and Hoa wanted to do at least 60 miles. I sat down to eat, and then went to my tent for a nap. Before taking a nap, I changed into clean clothes and wiped myself down with baby wipes. My toes were very tender. I had a couple of blisters. They weren’t bothering me when I ran, so I left them alone, wiped off my feet and put on short compression socks.

The tent we rented was very large. We rented cots too, so we didn’t have to sleep on the ground. The tent was big enough that you could stand up in it, but because it was roomy it was cold. Even with several layers of clothes and a 20-degree mummy bag, I was freezing. But I was very tired, so I eventually drifted off to sleep. I didn’t sleep great and woke up intermittently because I felt cold and my hips were aching. At some point, Hoa came in the tent to lay down. She decided to call it a day at 77 miles, surpassing her goal. Finally, at 5am, I decided I couldn’t take much more, so I got up and started moving again.

There were more runners out in the morning, and it wasn’t long before the sky started to light up. The sunrise was gorgeous. I felt rested even with the little sleep I got. I managed pull off a handful of decently fast miles close to the 100K mark. However, it wasn’t long before the sun was out in full force, and my energy faded. Lisa and her husband Shannon so kindly brought me bacon, and the aid station was serving egg sandwiches. I stopped, put the bacon on my sandwich and began to eat. It tasted amazing. I couldn’t stop eating and gobbled the whole thing down in a couple minutes. I think this was my favorite race food of the whole weekend. I continued to walk loops slowly while digesting.

It was barely noon before I started to feel very hot. Temperatures were pushing the mid-70’s again. But today, the sun combined with tiredness felt much harsher. I was closing in on 75 miles, when I began to feel lightheaded and experience a bit of GI distress. The tamales were coming back to haunt me, and new food was just not sitting well. Likewise, my neck and shoulders had become very tight, at times sending tingles down into my right arm. I took a short break outside my tent, where Hoa and Laurie were resting - Laurie completed an amazing 90 miles in 24 hours. I laid down on the grass in a cool shady spot, but it was only a matter of time before Melissa found me. Like a good motivator, she convinced me to get up and keep going. At that point, all I really wanted was rest, but I knew even slow forward progress was quicker than no forward progress. Melissa walked with me to keep me going, while Hoa left to take Laurie to the airport. Before Hoa left, she gave me her cooling towel to use, which I kept damp and tied around my neck. It was very slow going, but Melissa and I continued moving through the heat of the day.

At around 3:30pm it began to cool down, and I was finally beginning to feel relief. By the time the sun set, I was closing in on only a half marathon to go. I was glad to only have 13 miles left, but also overwhelmed by the idea of having to walk a half marathon because I knew it would take at least a few hours. Somewhere around this time the tears began flowing. My body was fully protesting, and my mind was deliriously tired. Both Hoa and Melissa walked with me now. They talked and kept things positive. I cried my eyes out, but I kept moving.

I started to have troubles with rocks in my shoes. My feet had become incredibly swollen. Every little rock felt agonizing, and the blisters I discovered the night before were beginning to irritate me. We decided it was best to stop at the tent and take care of the blisters. Hoa bravely popped and bandaged my blisters for me, while I yelled cuss words and cried from the pain. Melissa tried to help me get my socks, shoes and gaiters back on. However, it had become too difficult to get my shoes on because of the swelling. We decided I should try wearing my Chacos and socks for the remaining miles. I have actually climbed a 14er in my Chacos and hiked several times in them. So, I felt good about this choice.

After my having my blisters popped and getting my Chacos on, we kept moving. Initially the blisters were more tender than before. I had lost focus on eating and drinking because my GI tract was increasingly more upset, and I began to get nauseous. I was at an all time low. It seemed like as soon as one agonizing symptom eased up another would take over. My blisters. My neck. My shoulders. Ringing in my ears. Tiredness. Dizziness. At one point, I began to see what I called “swirleys”. My body was revolting in every way it could, but I had only less than 10 miles to go.

It was getting late again, and I was doing all I could to finish. I managed to force down some candied ginger which seemed to help. Melissa stayed with me while Hoa went to pack up our stuff. I broke down again, as one of my blisters refilled and was stinging badly. With only 5 miles left, I was so close but felt so far. I was only managing a measly 3 mph at best. The anxiety of wanting to finish was overwhelming. Lisa and Shannon showed up to cheer me on. Lisa brought my “Running 4 Jason” sign, and wrote “You are our hero” on the back. Of course, I started bawling again when I saw it.

Finally, I managed to get my act together emotionally with two loops to go. I was starting to accept I was really going to accomplish my goal. Both Hoa and Melissa were with me again, and with one loop to go, I gave the middle finger to each rock, bush, curb, turn, that I had intimately gotten to know during my 96 loops. We came around the last turn and Melissa and Hoa encouraged me to run (more like shuffle) it in. They went ahead, and Lisa recorded a Facebook live video, so Matt could watch from home. I felt such a huge sense of relief once crossing the finish line. Jubilee presented me with my buckle and my finisher's mug. It took me 39:21:38 to finish. I finished 48th out of 85 in the 48-hour race.

Overall, I wouldn’t hesitate to say this was an amazing experience. There were some low points for sure, but there were a lot of high points as well. Late in the race, I definitely came to the realization it was a bit insane to make myself suffer in the name of my brother who is suffering. However, thinking of him, and everyone else who is fighting cancer, really kept me going. I am very fortunate to have good health. I am very fortunate for the ability and opportunity to achieve something very few people can. I am very fortunate for an amazing support system of family and friends, who have reached out to help my brother, and to help me reach my crazy goal.

Thank you to everyone who sent me messages of encouragement. I’m so grateful to have had cell phone service the whole time. Receiving messages from Matt, my friends and family during the race was so motivating. Thank you to Hoa and Melissa. I TRULY could not have made it without them pulling me through, taking care of me, and putting up with my crap. Thank you to Lisa, Shannon, Chavet, Laurie, Chad, and many other friends out on the course who offered me support and encouragement. The comradery and friendship runners display at races is truly the reason why I love running. Thank you to the Aravaipa staff and volunteers, who so enthusiastically took care of us and handled our every need. Also, thanks to everyone who donated to my fundraiser for Jason. With your help, I raised an additional $2,400! And as promised, today I donated $1,200 to the Colorectal Cancer Alliance.

Finally, I know the question some may be wondering is, would I do it again? To which I say, hell yes!

Merry Christmas!

This past year has been quite the adventure. Hospital stays, ER visits, surgeries, chemo, cancer pain, prostate exam (oh boy!), ultrasounds, CT scans, MRIs, a PET Scan and so much more! While all of that has been interesting the amazing part of the past year has been all the love, generosity, and kindness our family has received. I don't think I can possibly list off everyone that has helped but I certainly want to try to express my gratefulness.

First I have to thank my wonderful wife who has been by my side through everything. I wouldn't be able to go through this alone and she makes everyday worth it. Also at times while I've been in the hospital or recovering from chemo she has essentially been a single parent and taken on a lot of the load of our daily lives. I also am thankful for my children. They have been understanding and brave through it all. They have taken on a larger role with household chores. They have never complained when life has been interrupted by my adventures.

I want to thank my immediate family. My mom and dad have been open to helping out with appointments. They have assisted with meals and with finances. They spent some extra time doing activities with the kids. My sister Joni has been absolutely amazing. As most of you know, she started a fundraiser (Running for Jason).  The fundraiser far surpassed it's goals and she has now set a new goal which includes her making some matching donations to the Colrectal Cancer Alliance. I also can't thank Joni without thanking her husband Matt. Both him and Joni have helped us with meals, finances, and have spent a lot of time with us. They ran 3 races with us this year and Joni has run many miles to help raise money for her fundraiser. In about a week Joni is running 100 miles in Arizona for the fundraiser. I also want to thanks my brother John and his family. All tough they live 1000s of miles away they have reached out with there support and love. John came out in October to hang out with me during a chemo treatment which I really appreciated since we see each other infrequently.

I have to thanks my 'other' immediate family; Carrie's parents, her brother Matt and his fiance Alaina. We moved into our new house back in January and had grand plans for landscaping but the whole cancer thing threw a wrinkle into those plans. The Jaspers family stepped up and did the vast majority of our backyard including sod, fence, and irrigation. They have helped with the kids so many times it's impossible to count. They have helped out financially and given us so many various gifts. It is also impossible to count the number of delicious meals Sherry has provided us. Matt and Alaina have also provided us many meals.  I also am grateful for Golda's (aka Great-Grandma) generous support.

Thank you to my not-so-immediate-but-love-just-as-much-family who have helped us is many ways. Our uncles and aunts have been so supportive. Thank you so much Lucy, Joan, Tom, Carol, Smitty, and Janice. Thank you so much to my cousins Allison, Bonnie and Wendy who have offered support, prayers and given some very generous gifts to assist us this year.

Thanks to my coworkers who raised a generous amount of money through a bake sale. Thanks to my boss and employer for being so flexible with my situation. Thanks to all the friends of family, friends of friends, and complete strangers who contributed to Joni's fundraiser and helped in other ways. It truly blows my mind that people I have never met have helped out in amazing ways.

Finally, I want to give an extra special thanks to some good friends who very recently provided us with quite an adventure. Last Sunday we were sent on a scavenger hunt across town. One of our friends had advised us to keep the day open but had not stated why. We were surprised to receive a text from a different friend at 2pm with a rhyming clue. The first stop was Odell Brewing where Carrie's brother works. Their we met up with him, received a very nice gift bag, took a picture, and then received another clue. The next stop required Carrie and I to pose American Gothic style in front of our old house. The next clue sent us to a car wash to was giving out free car washes. Then we were sent to a playground where we used to regularly meet up with friends when our kids were younger. Our kids had to pose on top of a wooly mammoth before we could get our next clue. We were then sent to the kids middle school. Each rhyming text came from a different friend.

After that we were sent to the Summit which is basically a massive bar/restaurant/arcade/bowling/laser tag place. There we discovered our friends waiting for us. We were treated to food, drinks, games and bowling. In addition we were given a literal sack full of gifts. The amounts of gifts we received was ridiculous but in a good way. We were overwhelmed by the generosity of our friends. I know I'll never forget that day and I'm pretty sure it will stick with the kids as well.

So to close this out, I know I can't repay the kindness that has been shown this year but I will certainly do my best to pay it forward. It is wonderful to have such a wide support system. Thank you everyone. Sorry if I missed anyone but there have been so many that have helped.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

The New Plan of Attack

After a long few weeks we now have a plan of attack in place to get rid of this cancer once and for all.

On Tuesday (12/19) morning, Carrie and I drove down to the University of Colorado Hospital. We first met with a medical oncologist in the Colrectal Cancer Clinic. The doctor specializes in the cases of people under 50 years old. He discussed the tumor board's recommendations for radiation treatment. The radiation will be every weekday for 5 weeks. I will be starting on January 8th. In addition to the radiation I will be taking an oral form of chemotherapy (Capecitabine). The chemo will have similar side affects as the FOLFOX treatment I was on for 6 months but will be a lesser dosage. The hope is that it will slow any cancer growth along with the radiation. He also presented a clinical trial of immunotherapy that I would qualify for. I guess I'm a bit of a colon cancer unicorn given my age and the fact that I haven't taken a certain cancer drug during my treatment. This clinical trial would be an option if this round of treatment doesn't work but generally would be a last resort if other options fail.  The doctor reiterated that my treatment is very much still working towards a curative goal and there is no reason to think we can't beat this.

After that appointment we headed to the radiation oncology clinic. Here we went into more detail about the radiation portion of my treatment. As I mentioned, treatment will be every weekday for 5 weeks. The radiation treatment will only last for less than 10 minutes. We were advised by the doctor that we could do the treatment in Fort Collins but she would prefer to do it at their clinic in Denver. Carrie and I both thought it best to do the treatment in Denver since we want to have the best people we can working on me. The side affects of the treatment will be cumulative so the first couple weeks I may feel good but will start to feel very fatigued towards the end. They were then able to get me in for my radiation simulation. This involved me lying stomach down on CT scan table. Underneath me they had placed a plastic bag filled with some sort of special polymer. They taped the bad around my torso and pelvis areas and I was told to lie as still as possible while the polymer hardened. This bag with the polymer inside will serve as a mold/cast while I get radiation. I was then given a CT scan so they could determine where all my internal organs were sitting. Finally I was given four time tatoos on my sides and two on my spinal area. These are hardly even visible but will help the doctors get the radiation lined up just right. After about 30 minutes of lying still I was able to get up. My back was killing me.

We also learned that after radiation they will want to do a surgery to remove the portion of colon which has the current mass on it. They would also like more radiation to be applied at this time. However, no ORs in Colorado are equipped to do this so I will likely be traveling to either the Mayo Clinic in MN or Sloan-Kettering in NY for the surgery.

Carrie and I both felt really comforable with the doctors and believe their plan is the strongest plan of attack at the moment. It will be a long 5 weeks of treatment but will be worth it in the end.

The Story of Mutant Ureter Man

WARNING: THIS POST MAY CONTAIN POOP, TESTICLES AND SMALL TUBES GOING UP URETHAS. ENJOY.

Well the last week has been just as exciting as the week before. Is it because we might finally get wintery weather in Colorado? No. Is it because it's 10 days until Christmas? No. Is it because we are seeing the new Star Wars tomorrow? No. Is it because I'm a mutant with double ureters attached to one of my kidneys? YES!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last I updated the blog I was worried about a possible liver tumor. An MRI revealed that to be a false positive and that was great news. Last week I also developed some new pain in addition to the back and abdominal pains. Those of you who have read through the blog may know that way back in March before I had my tumor removed I was having testicular pain. I had an ultrasound on  my parts and nothing was shown. Well the same pain returned to that area and I got another ultrasound. The good news is there was once again nothing to see there. The bad news is there were no answers for the pain. Cut to this Monday (12/11) and the pain in that area was getting more severe. I called the Cancer Clinic and they had no ideas so I called my primary care doctor. He did the standard exam and seemed pretty confident I had an infection so I was prescribed antibiotics. I had also started taking some decently strong pain pills that were masking a lot of my issues.

Tuesday afternoon (12/12) while working I started to feel fairly severe abdominal pain. I left work early and eventually had some wonderful liquidy output that relived the pressure. Later that evening the pain returned and I hardly slept. By morning I felt a little better but not great. I was feeling suspicious that nasty things (well nastier than what was already going on) were occurring inside of me. Now Wednesday (12/13) was the day I was supposed to go the University of Colorado Hospital to consult with the colrectal cancer clinic. After we dropped the kids off at school Carrie and I began the drive to Denver. I just wasn't feeling right so I called both my cancer office and the Denver clinic. They both agreed that I should probably get checked out at the ER. We chose to continue to the ER at UCH just in case I needed any sort of surgery then a surgical oncologist would be available.

In the ER they took blood and I gave a urine sample. They did about 7 different tests on me all of which came back entirely normal. My liver and kidney appeared to be functioning normally and my immune system had recovered since my last chemo session. I was given some oxy to help with my pain. I had to drink some imaging fluid mixed with cranberry juice over an hour and a half. They then carted me off to get a CT scan. After that was over we waited and waited for someone to give us results. Then an orderly came to the room and informed us they wanted me to do another CT scan in a different position. After that we waited for at least an hour before a doctor finally spoke with us. He said it was likely the cancerous mass causing pain but there wasn't much we could do but move forward with my chemo treatment plan which would hopefully shrink the mass. This was somewhat disappointing since I really wanted to know what exactly was causing my various pains. He told us I would soon be discharged and went on his way.

Five minutes later he returned to inform us that the plot had thickened. The radiologist contacted him to inform him that I am a mutant with double ureters coming out of my left kidney. The ureter is the tube that drains the kidney into the bladder. Most people have one tube for each kidney. About one percent of people have a kidney with two ureters. I am finally part of the one percent! The fact that I have double ureters is not an issue. The issue is that one of the ureters is being pressed on by my tumor. This is causing my kidney to back up a little. This is what is likely leading to my various pains.

I was then visited by a urologist who discussed some options. The first option was to put a stent in the ureter. The stent goes in through your uretha and sounds like a really good time. The stent itself can cause discomfort so there is no guarantee the pain would go but the ureter would stay open. The second option is to get tube through my back to the kidney that could help drain it. This would be neat because then I could have poop coming out my front and pee coming out my back. The final option is to manage it with pain and hope the cancer treatment resolves the issue. For now I am going with option three as the other options are generally reserved for dire emergencies or entirely unmanageable pain.

At this point I was discharged and given an oxycodone prescription. On the way home I spoke with my contact at the colrectal cancer clinic. The team of various doctors had still met to discuss my case despite my absence. Their final recommendations was radiation treatment followed by surgery followed by some possible rounds of chemo. I don't have a lot of details about the plan yet but today I spoke with my local oncologists and she is on board. On Tuesday I will go back to Denver and meet with a medical oncologist, a radiation oncologist and hopefully a urologist who regularly works with the clinic. At that time I will hopefully understand the radiation treatment a bit better and will know a schedule.

In the meantime I am trying to figure out the pain meds. Since they are serious opiates I am trying not to go crazy but they help me especially at night. I don't like the idea of taking these pills for weeks and weeks. I'm lucky to live in a legal weed state so I may explore that option and run it by the doctors next week. Until then me and my ureters will enjoy a relaxing weekend.

The Adventure Continues

Many of you heard from me this past Friday with my update. I had a CT scan on Thursday (11/30) and when I met with my oncologists on Friday (12/1) she said the scan was showing something strange in my colon. She ordered a PET scan for me. Well it turns out my update last Friday was a little premature. What I failed to report in my update was that they also did some blood work to measure my CEA (carcinoembryonic antigen). This tests measures a certain protein in the blood that is often produced by tumors. Before my tumor was removed back in April my level was 21. A couple days after removal my level had dropped to 5. Normal for a non-smoker is around 3. On Friday my number was 42. I did not get this results until after I had emailed out an update. My doctor called and told me there is a strong likelihood the cancer was still hanging out and growing. Happy birthday to me!

So I spent the weekend imagining the worst case scenarios (an orange angry tumor with a bad comb over slowly devouring my insides) and the best case scenarios (this was all a plot by the liberal media to make me an advocate for a national healthcare system and really I never had cancer at all). Then on Monday morning (12/4) I went in for my PET scan. A technician injected me with a fat syringe labeled with a radioactive sticker. He told me after my scan to avoid holding babies and puppies or hugging people for a couple hours. After lamenting my ruined baby holding plans, I sat in a recliner for an hour while the radioactive fluid soaked into areas of high metabolism (like tumors) in my body. Another technician escorted out of the recliner and I was ordered to empty my bladder. Sadly, my urine did not glow green. The scan machine looked very similar to the CT machine but was longer. After lying down on the platform my whole body was moved inside the tube where I stayed for about half an hour while the machine did it's thing. Afterwards, I attempted to hug the  technician as he escorted me out but he didn't seem interested.

Today (12/5) I met with my oncologist to discuss the PET scan results. There is indeed another tumor in my colon. She does not believe anything was missed when they took out the tumor in April. Instead this is a new tumor and my cancer cells were resistant to the chemo I was on. There is also a spot in my liver that might be a tumor. The next step is for me to get an MRI to better determine what is going on in the liver. After that I will go through four rounds of chemo with a different drug. Afterwards I will get another MRI and we will determine if the cancer is responding. I will then likely either way have a surgery to remove more of my colon followed by 8 more rounds of chemo.
If the spot in the liver is a tumor it might be treated with localized radiation. In addition to all of this I continue to have back pain and will have a separate MRI next week to determine if anything is going on with the spine.

I am also seeking out a second opinion. I trust my oncologist and think she is knowledgeable and likely correct in her recommended course of treatment. However, at this stage of the game I think I would be remiss to not seek other insights. Next Wednesday (12/13) I will spend most of the day at the University of Colorado Hospital in Denver. They have a very strong col-rectal cancer specific team  and several different doctors will come up with what they think the best course of action is. Hopefully more knowledge and direction will be provided.

I know this all seems somewhat dire but I want everyone to know I am prepared to fight this as hard as I can. I am sad. I am angry.  But I am also hopeful. Thank's everyone for your continued support. I will keep you all updated over the coming weeks.

Round 12

Round 12 of chemotherapy is now done and for now I am past that part of the process. As with my other rounds my main side affect is fatigue. I have not lost weight or hair throughout this process all though Carrie thinks more of my hair is gray now. The doctor asked me this week if chemo was easier or harder than I thought. For me it was definitely easier than I pictured but I certainly don't want to go through it again. 

On November 30th I will have a CT scan and then will discuss those results with the oncologist the following day. If things look good I will be having surgery to take down my ostomy on December 13th. I will be in the hospital anywhere from 4 to 7 days depending on how I am healing. Hopefully, this means I can start 2018 off in a healthy state and 2017 will become a distant memory. I will continue to have scans, bloodwork and scopes for years to come.

Thanks everyone for your continued love and support. I will post again in a month with the results of my scan.

Round 10

I neglected to send an update during Round 9 mostly because life is busy and there really wasn't a lot to update health wise. My mother accompanied for the round and got to live the excitement that is the Cancer Center. Afterwards I had a couple days of feeling tired but seemed to recover quicker than normal. There were few if any side affects and I considered myself very lucky to be this far along with only minor issues. Really for me chemo has been more of a bi-weekly annoyance than a life changing event. It is certainly no picnic but there are many people who have it much worse.

Round 10 was last week. My brother John flew in from Maine to visit and accompany me to chemo. It was great to see him and I enjoyed the company. Once again this round seems to be going mostly fine. I'm perhaps a little more tired than last round but my appetite is already back and I went for my first run today in a long while. The doctor that I saw at chemo told me I'm one of only a few that have made it this far without reducing my chemo dosage. So yeah, more poison for me!

A few weeks ago I had my first acupuncture experience. I was expecting to be stuck with a million needles but it was probably only about eight total. It was very relaxing and the good feeling lasted a couple days. I'm still a little skeptical but will probably give it another try at some point.

Hope everyone is doing well and enjoy their autumn. We had our first snow in Colorado today.