Good report from the lab this morning. Igg's have dropped from 1749 last month to 1501 this month. All other measures of myeloma (M spike, beta 2 globulin, and kappa/lambda ratios) are almost identical to last month. There is still evidence of myeloma, as reflected in the M spike number, which should be 0, but is 1.2 (it has been as high as 2.7), but things continue to be stable. Spreading the steroids over 2 days has had little effect, other than I get a little more sleep on Mondays, but still am wiped out on Thursdays and Fridays as I crash off the chemo and/or the steroids. Oh well, we have a comfortable sofa in the basement for me to nap on those days.
So, what's with this "confessions of a closet nutritionist?" For the 2 weeks prior to the last blood draw I took a mystery nutrition drink a friend sent me. Without elaborating on the story behind it, he claimed it had some curative effects on some cancers, was made of amino acids, and urged me to drink it. The 4 quarts of clear liquid arrived in unmarked bottles, sitting in an unmarked box, with no instructions or ingredients. The only markings were his return address on the box. I let it sit on the counter for a couple of days, as I contemplated whether to "take the plunge" into the unknown. Then I decided to see if it would poison me. Having survived the sampling, I took a little more the next day. Still no adverse effects. So I went full bore and drank 12 ounces a day for 2 weeks. In the second week I noticed a definite increase in my energy, even managing to complete some to-do lists (a rare feat for me). Of course, I was a bit nervous about my numbers, worrying that maybe my mystery drink would interfere with my chemo, and have the opposite effect on my numbers. So, this month's report was good news. The numbers haven't changed much, but the increase in energy is encouraging and I think I'll ask for some more mystery drink. There are some who might call this "snake oil". But I just learned that clinical trials are going to start on this drink at the University of Utah within a few weeks. So they must have some legitimate studies to get it to that level.
Finally, this entire episode gives me (and now you) some insight into how much those of us with terminal illness would like our lives to change. Yes, we keep our chins up and endure, but make no mistake about it, when given even the slightest hope that maybe things could change for the better, we're likely to pursue that hope. We can't tell our doctors, because we know their advice is-- No, you can't take the chance with an unknown. Yet, they're giving us toxins with many unknown side effects. In my case, even those toxins bring no promise of a cure. So, we weigh the risks and often tell ourselves, maybe, just maybe, this will work for me. Delusional? Perhaps. But what do we have to lose? So, it seems I have not stumbled onto a cure; but I have found something to help with my fatigue. That's all for now: I've got a to-do list to finish!
P.S. Great movie tip: If the documentary "Bigger Stronger Faster" comes to your town, it's a must see. Not just because it involves one family's exploration of steroid use, but also because the director is Chris Bell, nephew of Arlene and Jim Bell. Arlene, as you know, is a frequent blogger, and is Susan's first cousin. In addition, the movie was featured at both the Tribeca and Sundance Film Festivals this year. (keep in mind that I am on corticosteroids, not anabolic steroids--hence I put on pounds of fat, not muscle)
Much love to all, and a belated Happy Father's day to all you Dads.
Dan
Monday, June 16, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Stealth Bloggers??
My posting last month that numbers would be delivered today was in error. I was a week off. I started my 6th cycle of maintenance yesterday and had my blood drawn for myeloma analysis, which results will be reported next Monday! My other blood counts were OK, although a bit down from the past month. No worries, yet, but not drifting in the right direction. Hoping its just some bouncing around, as these numbers will do occasionally.
On a brighter note, I've managed to push my swimming to 50 laps. When I started about a month ago, I struggled to get to 20, so we're definitely seeing some improvement. I wouldn't win any speed races--except maybe against my old friend Doug Kappel, who spent more time dating lifeguards than he did actually swimming---. I swim more for the pure enjoyment. I've been a swimmer my whole life, and spending 30 or 40 minutes swimming outside with the sun beating down (yes, I use my sunblock) is pure heaven.
Oh, and have you noticed that site meter, we have had over 1400 visitors since mid March when I installed that. Who are you people? Stealth bloggers, no doubt, who sign in during the middle of the night, and leave no messages!!!!!
More next week. My best to everyone.
Love,
Dan
On a brighter note, I've managed to push my swimming to 50 laps. When I started about a month ago, I struggled to get to 20, so we're definitely seeing some improvement. I wouldn't win any speed races--except maybe against my old friend Doug Kappel, who spent more time dating lifeguards than he did actually swimming---. I swim more for the pure enjoyment. I've been a swimmer my whole life, and spending 30 or 40 minutes swimming outside with the sun beating down (yes, I use my sunblock) is pure heaven.
Oh, and have you noticed that site meter, we have had over 1400 visitors since mid March when I installed that. Who are you people? Stealth bloggers, no doubt, who sign in during the middle of the night, and leave no messages!!!!!
More next week. My best to everyone.
Love,
Dan
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Catching a Break
The memories of a series of disappointing news over the past couple of years are still a bit too fresh, which makes good news, even a small dose of it, very welcome. We had a nice visit with Rifkin today and reviewed my status, numbers, and discussed "the plan." The good news? I'm stable, holding my own, on a plateau, or however you want to describe numbers which don't change much, month to month. As for the plan going forward for someone in my situation, Rifkin's comment was, "there is no reason to potentially compromise the quality of life you currently have with the risks associated with a more rigorous treatment regime." Of course, no one knows how long I can maintain this plateau (can you say indefinitely?), but for now I know we are quite grateful for my current state of stability.
We also discussed the weekly roller coaster I go through with the steroids. As a result Rifkin advised that current studies support trying to reduce the toxicity of long term steroid treatment. Duh! I could've told them that, no study necessary! Rifkin thinks that I may well get the same result by spacing the steroids out over 2 days, rather than one major dose on Mondays. Does this mean I might actually get some sleep on Monday nights? We'll soon find out. Whatever the results, it will be easier on me than the current regime and for that I am also thankful. And Susan (who has to tolerate my 'roid rage and mood swings) is probably even more thankful. Maybe he's saved my marriage. (Just kidding. I'd never let Susan go.)
Julia is home for the summer, having completed her junior year at Colorado College. She is working for a Colorado vector control company that monitors and tries to control the mosquito population, primarily directed at controlling any West Nile virus. The company has many connections with the department of health and she will learn much of the groundwork used in controlling the spread of disease. This should be a good complement to her Public Health major. Besides, she gets to work alone, mostly outside, and will have her own truck (stick shift) to travel to different sites around the Denver metro area. She's excited. We think it's a stitch. Oh, and she will not be working with any pesticides.
That's the news this Monday. Next numbers will be reported on June 9.
Love,
Dan
We also discussed the weekly roller coaster I go through with the steroids. As a result Rifkin advised that current studies support trying to reduce the toxicity of long term steroid treatment. Duh! I could've told them that, no study necessary! Rifkin thinks that I may well get the same result by spacing the steroids out over 2 days, rather than one major dose on Mondays. Does this mean I might actually get some sleep on Monday nights? We'll soon find out. Whatever the results, it will be easier on me than the current regime and for that I am also thankful. And Susan (who has to tolerate my 'roid rage and mood swings) is probably even more thankful. Maybe he's saved my marriage. (Just kidding. I'd never let Susan go.)
Julia is home for the summer, having completed her junior year at Colorado College. She is working for a Colorado vector control company that monitors and tries to control the mosquito population, primarily directed at controlling any West Nile virus. The company has many connections with the department of health and she will learn much of the groundwork used in controlling the spread of disease. This should be a good complement to her Public Health major. Besides, she gets to work alone, mostly outside, and will have her own truck (stick shift) to travel to different sites around the Denver metro area. She's excited. We think it's a stitch. Oh, and she will not be working with any pesticides.
That's the news this Monday. Next numbers will be reported on June 9.
Love,
Dan
Monday, May 12, 2008
Stable Statistics Sprout a New Start
How's that for alliteration? Now, what does it mean? Numbers are about the same. Igg's up 100 points, to 1750, but nothing looks alarming. The M-protein (detects the presence of the myeloma protein) is 1.2--the same as last month. It has been as high as 2.5. If I were in remission it would be 0, but 1.2 is a good number for me. Other measures are about where they were last month, so I think it's safe to say I'm holding my own. Given that I missed one dose of chemo in the last cycle due to the flu/pneumonia, these numbers are just fine with me.
The new start refers to my resuming my swimming. I swam all last summer, when I was not on chemo, but haven't been back in the pool since restarting my chemo last September--just too tied most of the time. Feeling pretty good today, and with my white count in the normal range, I ventured back to the pool. While it felt good, it was disappointing to discover that I am a long way from the condition I was in last September. I was only able to swim 20 laps, which is about 25 to 30% of what I was swimming last August. Oh well, it'll give me something to work on. I have managed to drop 35 pounds over the winter, which should give me greater speed, don't you think? It is nice to have finally rid myself of the weight the steroids packed on me a couple of years ago. Fat boy no more! Although I'm still on the 'roids, I was deeply motivated to lose the weight---all prompted by Julia's comment last fall that I ran like a bowling ball. I'm not sure how a bowling ball runs, but the image disturbed me greatly. This makes me wonder if I swim like a bowling ball.
That's all the news here. Susan is pulling out of her bout with the crud. Julia returns from school tomorrow for the summer, and Catherine continues to keep a watchful eye on the financial markets. Have a great May and I'll probably check in with you with the next numbers in mid June, unless something exciting happens.
Love,
Dan
The new start refers to my resuming my swimming. I swam all last summer, when I was not on chemo, but haven't been back in the pool since restarting my chemo last September--just too tied most of the time. Feeling pretty good today, and with my white count in the normal range, I ventured back to the pool. While it felt good, it was disappointing to discover that I am a long way from the condition I was in last September. I was only able to swim 20 laps, which is about 25 to 30% of what I was swimming last August. Oh well, it'll give me something to work on. I have managed to drop 35 pounds over the winter, which should give me greater speed, don't you think? It is nice to have finally rid myself of the weight the steroids packed on me a couple of years ago. Fat boy no more! Although I'm still on the 'roids, I was deeply motivated to lose the weight---all prompted by Julia's comment last fall that I ran like a bowling ball. I'm not sure how a bowling ball runs, but the image disturbed me greatly. This makes me wonder if I swim like a bowling ball.
That's all the news here. Susan is pulling out of her bout with the crud. Julia returns from school tomorrow for the summer, and Catherine continues to keep a watchful eye on the financial markets. Have a great May and I'll probably check in with you with the next numbers in mid June, unless something exciting happens.
Love,
Dan
Monday, May 05, 2008
Statistics and Other Tidbits
The visit with Dr. Rifkin today was uneventful. My basic blood counts (white, red, platelets) are normal. We'll get myeloma numbers (IGGs) next week. I've still got a small amount of the crud that leveled me a few weeks ago, but it's on its way out and I feel fine. So they juiced me up with velcade and the steroids and I'm off and running for another week. After being off the 'roids for 3 weeks, I'm bracing for an all nighter tonight.
Soon after returning from Paris Susan came down with the same flu I had. She's been quite sick for the past 10 days and is finally moving about again, although still not 100%. We're tired of it!
But now for the real statistics. Every once in awhile I get a report on my blog. It has some very interesting statistics. For example, the blog has had 968 visitors since March 17. The visitors have been from 4 different continents (North America, South America, Europe and Asia) and 20 states in the U.S. with an average of 12 visitors per day. All this activity causes me to think I should make this blog more interesting. But, then when it was more "interesting" I was a lot sicker. I think we'll hope to keep it boring.
Finally, as I mentioned earlier, I've taken a position on the Executive Committee for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Light the Night Walk in Denver. If you're wondering what to do with those Economic Stimulus Package checks that are coming in the mail, a donation to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society would be a great way to stimulate our economy. I will be setting up a website as in years past. Checks can be sent to Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, Rocky Mountain Chapter, 5353 West Darmouth Ave., Suite 400, Denver, CO 80227. Please note on the check "Dan Patterson's Team". And thank you. I can't emphasize strongly enough how important the research is, for me and many others like me. In my visit today with Rifkin I asked how long he thought I could go on this velcade maintenance program. His response was he didn't know (of course). But more importantly he said, it would depend on what other drugs have cleared the clinical trials and are available. The Leukemia Society's funding of cancer research has been highly successful, including the application of Gleevec to chronic myeloid leukemia, which is estimated to have saved 20,000 lives already. Any amount of a contribution is greatly appreciated.
I'll let you know about the IGGs next week. May you all have a great week.
Love,
Dan
Soon after returning from Paris Susan came down with the same flu I had. She's been quite sick for the past 10 days and is finally moving about again, although still not 100%. We're tired of it!
But now for the real statistics. Every once in awhile I get a report on my blog. It has some very interesting statistics. For example, the blog has had 968 visitors since March 17. The visitors have been from 4 different continents (North America, South America, Europe and Asia) and 20 states in the U.S. with an average of 12 visitors per day. All this activity causes me to think I should make this blog more interesting. But, then when it was more "interesting" I was a lot sicker. I think we'll hope to keep it boring.
Finally, as I mentioned earlier, I've taken a position on the Executive Committee for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Light the Night Walk in Denver. If you're wondering what to do with those Economic Stimulus Package checks that are coming in the mail, a donation to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society would be a great way to stimulate our economy. I will be setting up a website as in years past. Checks can be sent to Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, Rocky Mountain Chapter, 5353 West Darmouth Ave., Suite 400, Denver, CO 80227. Please note on the check "Dan Patterson's Team". And thank you. I can't emphasize strongly enough how important the research is, for me and many others like me. In my visit today with Rifkin I asked how long he thought I could go on this velcade maintenance program. His response was he didn't know (of course). But more importantly he said, it would depend on what other drugs have cleared the clinical trials and are available. The Leukemia Society's funding of cancer research has been highly successful, including the application of Gleevec to chronic myeloid leukemia, which is estimated to have saved 20,000 lives already. Any amount of a contribution is greatly appreciated.
I'll let you know about the IGGs next week. May you all have a great week.
Love,
Dan
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Good Doctor
Today I participated (listened) in to a live audio presentation from a professor of medicine/hematologist/oncologist from the University of Pennsylvania Medical School. The program was about stem cell transplants in the era of new drug therapies and was sponsored by the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Without going into the details of the presentation, let me say that there was nothing that I hadn't already talked about with Dr. Rifkin. In fact, a number of the new drug combinations were referred as still being in trials, with results not yet known. I have already been through at least 2 of these trials (the revlimid/velcade/dex combo) and my current maintenance regime. Maintenance regimes are still considered quite novel. Not that I needed reminding but, my doctor is very very good. He is on top of the latest drug trials and has me on the cutting edge of new therapies.
I saw Rifkin on Monday, as a follow up to my pneumonia. The testing actually showed I had influenza 3 with pneumonia. I'm still hacking but definitely feel I'm on the mend. We decided I could handle the chemo this week, so they shot me up with velcade. Some might call it kicking a guy when he's down, but I'm handling it OK. Anyway, I asked Rifkin what was up with his partners who seemed intent on having a plan for me, most likely involving transplant. Rifkin was respectful, but let me know he doesn't think that way and that he has a number of patients who have been on drug therapy for years. His view being that as long as the numbers are holding there is no reason to subject the patient to the trauma of a transplant. He said we could discuss it further at our next visit in a couple of weeks. I am content with where we are and continue to be very grateful that I landed as one of Rifkin's patients. There is a bit of luck in much of what happens to us in this life, no doubt.
Susan returned from Paris tonight, having spent the last 12 days with our friends Sigun and Joe. She had a fabulous time and has become quite comfortable in the City of Light. Sigun and Joe have introduced her to a number of their friends and her annual visits now usually involve a grand dinner party with Sigun and Joe, and now her, Parisian friends. Ah, what a life. It is nice to have such good friends in such a beautiful part of the world. Susan is now back to the more mundane life on Garfield Street in Denver.
My best to all of you. Dare I say, "spring is here"?
Dan
I saw Rifkin on Monday, as a follow up to my pneumonia. The testing actually showed I had influenza 3 with pneumonia. I'm still hacking but definitely feel I'm on the mend. We decided I could handle the chemo this week, so they shot me up with velcade. Some might call it kicking a guy when he's down, but I'm handling it OK. Anyway, I asked Rifkin what was up with his partners who seemed intent on having a plan for me, most likely involving transplant. Rifkin was respectful, but let me know he doesn't think that way and that he has a number of patients who have been on drug therapy for years. His view being that as long as the numbers are holding there is no reason to subject the patient to the trauma of a transplant. He said we could discuss it further at our next visit in a couple of weeks. I am content with where we are and continue to be very grateful that I landed as one of Rifkin's patients. There is a bit of luck in much of what happens to us in this life, no doubt.
Susan returned from Paris tonight, having spent the last 12 days with our friends Sigun and Joe. She had a fabulous time and has become quite comfortable in the City of Light. Sigun and Joe have introduced her to a number of their friends and her annual visits now usually involve a grand dinner party with Sigun and Joe, and now her, Parisian friends. Ah, what a life. It is nice to have such good friends in such a beautiful part of the world. Susan is now back to the more mundane life on Garfield Street in Denver.
My best to all of you. Dare I say, "spring is here"?
Dan
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Bugs
Not that long ago I wrote about how there is no such thing as a little bug. This past week's experience with bugs tells it all: sore throat....cough.....fever.....pneumonia. When will this winter end? As the snow flies again in Denver I am once again wrestling with a colony of bugs who have taken up residence in my lungs. Enough already!!! Susan is visiting our good friends in Paris so Catherine took over and shuttled me to the clinic and hospital, and has monitored my fever, fluid intake, eating, etc. She has proven once again her ability to be calm in the midst of a storm. We had a few rough days but things are quieting down a bit and I suspect in another week we'll be back to normal. Susan is beside herself that she isn't around to nurse me back to health, no doubt with homemade chicken soup, but we are managing. Julia has a short break from school and will be home today to check on me. These girls continue to be pillars of strength, even though I know they get scared when I get so sick. Despite my urging to enjoy Paris, I suspect my pneumonia has been a dark cloud in what should have been an enjoyable springtime in Paris for Susan. My weakened immune system frustrates me as I know in my precancer years this latest bout would not have gone beyond a sore throat for a few days. This is an example of why I'm so resistant to talk of another transplant. A foreign donor transplant would require me to be on immunosuppressants for years after the transplant, which would make me even more vulnerable to all these bugs. I see these patients at the clinic regularly and they are visibly frustrated week to week as they can't seem to rid themselves of these infections. They do not have quality of life.
Due to the respiratory infection Rifkin cancelled the velcade this week. I was relieved as I did not feel up to dealing with the ups and downs of the chemo on top of this crud. I see him again on Monday and hopefully we'll get back on track. A few weeks ago I thought I saw spring around the corner, but it was apparently a mirage. Perhaps we'll see it by May 1!!!
Love,
Dan
Due to the respiratory infection Rifkin cancelled the velcade this week. I was relieved as I did not feel up to dealing with the ups and downs of the chemo on top of this crud. I see him again on Monday and hopefully we'll get back on track. A few weeks ago I thought I saw spring around the corner, but it was apparently a mirage. Perhaps we'll see it by May 1!!!
Love,
Dan
Monday, April 07, 2008
Maintaining
Monday morning at the clinic. No doctor, just the nurse to infuse the velcade. Numbers report from last week looks good. IGGs are steady at 1558 (last month 1660). A few of the other markers look improved so I'm happy. Other blood work, like white count, platelets, neutrophils, hematocrit, also all look good. Maintenance is doing what its supposed to--maintaining.
Had an interesting discussion with the nurse, who read the "substitute" doctor's note from last week, as Rifkin was out of town again and I was seen by another one of his partners. As with the other partner, this one was interested in knowing "the plan." I think these guys have a song stuck in their heads, the name of which is, "transplant on my mind." Boy, talk about being in mental ruts. Try expanding your thinking guys. This doc wasn't as pushy as the other one, but still, it was obvious he thought the plan should include another transplant. Maybe they think they're going to clone me into one of my brothers because I'd be getting their stem cells. The world couldn't handle it!!!! Anyway, my nurse today tells me that he wrote in the chart, "patient adamant about not having allo transplant"--that's allogenaic, meaning, from a foreign donor--a nice way to refer to my brothers. I don't remember being that adamant, but I do know given that I feel pretty good these days, I'm not really interested in planning for a transplant. I tell my nurse this, and ask her, if she had my "numbers" would she be interested in having a transplant. A clear no is the response. One hour and I'm out of there. Record time. I'm ready to have Rifkin back.
We had a very successful fund raiser for Light the Night. We raised close to $5000!!!! A good start for my plans to exceed the $25,000 we raised last year. People's generosity continues to humble me. The longer I live the more committed I find myself to helping to rid the planet of this nasty disease. With your help we'll see a cure in my lifetime!
Love to all,
Dan
Had an interesting discussion with the nurse, who read the "substitute" doctor's note from last week, as Rifkin was out of town again and I was seen by another one of his partners. As with the other partner, this one was interested in knowing "the plan." I think these guys have a song stuck in their heads, the name of which is, "transplant on my mind." Boy, talk about being in mental ruts. Try expanding your thinking guys. This doc wasn't as pushy as the other one, but still, it was obvious he thought the plan should include another transplant. Maybe they think they're going to clone me into one of my brothers because I'd be getting their stem cells. The world couldn't handle it!!!! Anyway, my nurse today tells me that he wrote in the chart, "patient adamant about not having allo transplant"--that's allogenaic, meaning, from a foreign donor--a nice way to refer to my brothers. I don't remember being that adamant, but I do know given that I feel pretty good these days, I'm not really interested in planning for a transplant. I tell my nurse this, and ask her, if she had my "numbers" would she be interested in having a transplant. A clear no is the response. One hour and I'm out of there. Record time. I'm ready to have Rifkin back.
We had a very successful fund raiser for Light the Night. We raised close to $5000!!!! A good start for my plans to exceed the $25,000 we raised last year. People's generosity continues to humble me. The longer I live the more committed I find myself to helping to rid the planet of this nasty disease. With your help we'll see a cure in my lifetime!
Love to all,
Dan
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Our Stories
Tomorrow I expect to start the next round of chemo. I'm not sure what cycle this is since September, probably 8 or 9. The last two weeks of the cycle are clearly an improvement when compared to the first three weeks. The last week (week 5), which is my recovery week, i.e., no drugs, is always a relief and a reminder of what life is like without the constant fatigue. Great plans are always mapped out during this week, as I seem to forget that my motivation will languish once I enter the next cycle. Oh well, what's the saying: the best laid plans......?
My success in raising monies for the Light the Night walk for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society has landed me a position on the executive committee of the Rocky Mountain Chapter of the Society. My success being due to all of your generosity and most especially John Sadwith's tenacity in soliciting contributions from the legal community. John has already jumped on this year's fund raising by selling tickets for a suite at the Denver Nuggets game this coming Saturday, the proceeds from which will go to the Light the Night walk. For those nonlawyers and nonlocals, John is the executive director of the Colorado Trial Lawyers Association. He has plenty to do without taking on this task, but his heart is apparently bigger than his head. For that I am very grateful, John. The fund raising is so very important for people like me. Let us not forget that but for the new drugs, velcade and revlimid, I would likely not be alive. Those drugs first came out in 2004 I believe, but were only used in very limited applications, mostly as last resort treatments. Clinical trials since then have shown their effectiveness in early treatment as well as maintenance regimes (like mine). But new drugs are necessary as this nasty disease often figures out how to get around the drugs. The Leukemia Society has set a date of 2015 as the date they want to have a cure for blood cancers. That's only 7 years from now!!!
You have all been reading "my story" for more than 2 years now (I think this blog was set up in August 2005). You may have noticed I recently put a counter on my blog. I have had over 450 visitors since March 17th. Too bad I didn't know about this counter when we first set this up. I'm sure we have had thousands of visitors over these past 2 1/2 years.
What I have learned in sharing my story is that we all have our stories. Rare is the person who gets out of this life without first going through some significant challenges. They may seem different on the surface (death of a loved one, childhood abuse or neglect, nasty divorce, health issues or disabilities, loss of a job, etc.), but deep down they are very similar. We are forced through external events to examine our selves and to learn to continue on with life; not just getting through but transcending the difficulties. I know you all have confronted and learned to live with or move beyond your own challenges in life. Many of you deal with those challenges on a daily basis. Some of you have shared, briefly, those challenges on this blog. My story is no greater or lesser than yours. Its drama has just grabbed our attention at this time. But its time will pass. (a time I definitely look forward to). My story has awakened me to your stories, to our stories. The connection, of course, being that we help each other to rise above the difficulties, as you all have done for us. And life goes on.
Love,
Dan
My success in raising monies for the Light the Night walk for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society has landed me a position on the executive committee of the Rocky Mountain Chapter of the Society. My success being due to all of your generosity and most especially John Sadwith's tenacity in soliciting contributions from the legal community. John has already jumped on this year's fund raising by selling tickets for a suite at the Denver Nuggets game this coming Saturday, the proceeds from which will go to the Light the Night walk. For those nonlawyers and nonlocals, John is the executive director of the Colorado Trial Lawyers Association. He has plenty to do without taking on this task, but his heart is apparently bigger than his head. For that I am very grateful, John. The fund raising is so very important for people like me. Let us not forget that but for the new drugs, velcade and revlimid, I would likely not be alive. Those drugs first came out in 2004 I believe, but were only used in very limited applications, mostly as last resort treatments. Clinical trials since then have shown their effectiveness in early treatment as well as maintenance regimes (like mine). But new drugs are necessary as this nasty disease often figures out how to get around the drugs. The Leukemia Society has set a date of 2015 as the date they want to have a cure for blood cancers. That's only 7 years from now!!!
You have all been reading "my story" for more than 2 years now (I think this blog was set up in August 2005). You may have noticed I recently put a counter on my blog. I have had over 450 visitors since March 17th. Too bad I didn't know about this counter when we first set this up. I'm sure we have had thousands of visitors over these past 2 1/2 years.
What I have learned in sharing my story is that we all have our stories. Rare is the person who gets out of this life without first going through some significant challenges. They may seem different on the surface (death of a loved one, childhood abuse or neglect, nasty divorce, health issues or disabilities, loss of a job, etc.), but deep down they are very similar. We are forced through external events to examine our selves and to learn to continue on with life; not just getting through but transcending the difficulties. I know you all have confronted and learned to live with or move beyond your own challenges in life. Many of you deal with those challenges on a daily basis. Some of you have shared, briefly, those challenges on this blog. My story is no greater or lesser than yours. Its drama has just grabbed our attention at this time. But its time will pass. (a time I definitely look forward to). My story has awakened me to your stories, to our stories. The connection, of course, being that we help each other to rise above the difficulties, as you all have done for us. And life goes on.
Love,
Dan
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Three Years and Counting
First, the medical news: I've entered my 7th month of this latest chemo regime, but fortunately my dosage continues to be reduced to a maintenance level--once a week. Cancer levels (those notorious IGGs) are only measured every 5 to 6 weeks and I won't have new numbers for another 2 1/2 weeks. Aside from the fatigue and the steroid roller coaster I'm doing fine. I've certainly felt worse!
This Easter Sunday will mark the 3 year "anniversary" of my multiple myeloma diagnosis. This milepost is one of many that I set for myself as I began my treatment, including Julia's high school graduation, Catherine's college graduation, Susan and my 25th wedding anniversary, and 1, 2 and now 3 years of survival. Oh yes, there are many more. I'm sure this is typical of people with diagnoses like mine. We don't want to miss those important events in our loved ones' lives. So we're not only counting the years and mileposts met, but we're also counting the blessings we've received.
As I reflect back on these past 3 years, my most overwhelming thought and emotion is gratitude. I know I speak for Susan, Catherine and Julia when I say we are so deeply grateful to our family and our many friends who have loved and supported us. (that's all of you!). We have derived great strength from you. You have lifted us up during our darkest hours and you continue to keep us afloat. We embrace you and thank you for teaching us the true meaning of love, compassion and friendship. I admit that I am not sure I would have learned this very important life lesson without this nasty cancer. The lessons have been profound and humbling. Life has opened to us in ways we never could have imagined. At times I marvel, not at the fact that I am still alive, but that, in the midst of what appears to be great trauma, we are so happy. This 3 year anniversary appropriately falls on the feast of Easter, the Resurrection. Today we celebrate our new life. For all of you we send our wish for a very Happy Easter, as you have certainly given that gift to us.
With much love and gratitude,
Dan
This Easter Sunday will mark the 3 year "anniversary" of my multiple myeloma diagnosis. This milepost is one of many that I set for myself as I began my treatment, including Julia's high school graduation, Catherine's college graduation, Susan and my 25th wedding anniversary, and 1, 2 and now 3 years of survival. Oh yes, there are many more. I'm sure this is typical of people with diagnoses like mine. We don't want to miss those important events in our loved ones' lives. So we're not only counting the years and mileposts met, but we're also counting the blessings we've received.
As I reflect back on these past 3 years, my most overwhelming thought and emotion is gratitude. I know I speak for Susan, Catherine and Julia when I say we are so deeply grateful to our family and our many friends who have loved and supported us. (that's all of you!). We have derived great strength from you. You have lifted us up during our darkest hours and you continue to keep us afloat. We embrace you and thank you for teaching us the true meaning of love, compassion and friendship. I admit that I am not sure I would have learned this very important life lesson without this nasty cancer. The lessons have been profound and humbling. Life has opened to us in ways we never could have imagined. At times I marvel, not at the fact that I am still alive, but that, in the midst of what appears to be great trauma, we are so happy. This 3 year anniversary appropriately falls on the feast of Easter, the Resurrection. Today we celebrate our new life. For all of you we send our wish for a very Happy Easter, as you have certainly given that gift to us.
With much love and gratitude,
Dan
Sunday, March 02, 2008
There's No Such Thing As A Little Bug
Let's start with the good news. IGG's remain stable at 1660, down a bit from last month. I'm very pleased with this stability given the reduced velcade dosage in the maintenance regime. This week I had a bit of anxiety waiting for "the numbers" as Susan and I have spent the last couple of days at the clinic/hospital dealing with a workup supposedly for the flu. With me, there's no such thing as just a little bug, so when I called my doc on Thursday morning complaining of flu symptoms, we were told to get up to the clinic ASAP. My compromised immune system resulted in two days of blood work, EKG, chest x-ray, and some other not so pleasant procedures and I'm now at home with an oxygen tank and more meds than I can list. Progress feels slow but it does feel like the crud is slowly moving out of me. These things always provoke a little fear, as I have memories of little bugs turning into downward slides. Not this time. We'll be back at the clinic on Monday and I suspect the chemo will be postponed until I'm out of the woods with this flu. And at least I'm not facing rising numbers if the chemo is halted for a short time. I keep telling myself, it's just the flu--and spring is just around the corner. Yesterday it was 74 degrees; today we have snow, wind, and 25 degrees. Good bye winter, good bye flu season.
Love,
Dan
Love,
Dan
Monday, February 25, 2008
Some Days Are Like That
Started chemo cycle No. 3 today. Numbers will come in next Monday. Couldn't be examined by Rifkin as he had hospital rounds, so I'm scheduled to be seen by one of his partners. The one doc I don't like walks into the examining room. My last experience with him was just prior to my transplant and, without repeating the details of the encounter, I had a deep dislike for him. So I think, make it short and sweet and get out of here. First he tells me my white count is too low and he's not going to authorize my chemo. I object and tell him my white count has run low through much of my treatment. Finally he agrees to call Rifkin and, not to my surprise, Rifkin tells him to authorize the chemo.
Then he starts questioning me about "what's the long term plan here?" Although he won't be the one to recommend my course of treatment, I'm always interested in getting another viewpoint. Well, I certainly got that in response to my comment, "well, what do you think should be the approach?" He is a fervent believer in another transplant, as soon as my IGGs are in the low range, especially because I am doing so well---better able to withstand the assault of the high dose chemo and/or donor transplant from one of my brothers. His view of the chemo approach is that it is prepartory for transplant, not a long term treatment modality. Not a pleasant conversation as I am not interested in the transplant option except as a last resort. And I think the landscape is changing with these new drugs and they may become a long term treatment alternative. I listen and don't argue with him. He leaves and my nurse walks in. She had been in and out of the room and had heard much of the conversation. "what was that about?" she asks. After I tell her, she leans forward and says in a whisper, even though the door is closed, "I wouldn't take the risk of another transplant unless I had no other choice. People often get quite sick after sibling donor transplants. Quality of like is important." I agree and am aware that this is the second time in a month I've heard this "quality of life" comment. It makes me uncomfortable. She then tells me I'm lucky to have Rifkin as he is more informed on the advances in chemo drugs and is not as fond of transplants as some of his partners. If I didn't know it already I know it now: sometimes your health care is wholly dependent upon the luck of who you get as your doctor. Of course, when I was referred to Rifkin I had no idea what his philosophy was compared to his partners.
I think we'll ride this velcade/dexamethasone/and revlimid if necessary, until something else comes along or it isn't working anymore. Tough to get my head out of the negativity of this doctor's visit. Some days are like that. Tomorrow's a new day.
Then he starts questioning me about "what's the long term plan here?" Although he won't be the one to recommend my course of treatment, I'm always interested in getting another viewpoint. Well, I certainly got that in response to my comment, "well, what do you think should be the approach?" He is a fervent believer in another transplant, as soon as my IGGs are in the low range, especially because I am doing so well---better able to withstand the assault of the high dose chemo and/or donor transplant from one of my brothers. His view of the chemo approach is that it is prepartory for transplant, not a long term treatment modality. Not a pleasant conversation as I am not interested in the transplant option except as a last resort. And I think the landscape is changing with these new drugs and they may become a long term treatment alternative. I listen and don't argue with him. He leaves and my nurse walks in. She had been in and out of the room and had heard much of the conversation. "what was that about?" she asks. After I tell her, she leans forward and says in a whisper, even though the door is closed, "I wouldn't take the risk of another transplant unless I had no other choice. People often get quite sick after sibling donor transplants. Quality of like is important." I agree and am aware that this is the second time in a month I've heard this "quality of life" comment. It makes me uncomfortable. She then tells me I'm lucky to have Rifkin as he is more informed on the advances in chemo drugs and is not as fond of transplants as some of his partners. If I didn't know it already I know it now: sometimes your health care is wholly dependent upon the luck of who you get as your doctor. Of course, when I was referred to Rifkin I had no idea what his philosophy was compared to his partners.
I think we'll ride this velcade/dexamethasone/and revlimid if necessary, until something else comes along or it isn't working anymore. Tough to get my head out of the negativity of this doctor's visit. Some days are like that. Tomorrow's a new day.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Finally----A Posting
After receiving a raft of good natured jabs for not keeping my blog up to date, here is the latest, although it isn't much.
I'm still on maintenance--velcade and steroids once a week. I won't get any reports on my blood until March 3rd (after the blood draw next Monday, Feb. 25th). I have this week off and am enjoying it immensely. The chemo regime this fall--velcade, revlimid and steroids, was so rough that velcade once a week feels like no chemo at all, to me. Until the fourth week of the cycle when I get off all drugs, and then I realize how my reality has changed. Anyway, I'm doing OK, because I am so fortunate to be able to handle these drugs without a whole lot of debilitating side effects.
I'm continuing to enjoy life, choosing to do those things that give me joy, and spending time with many friends. Can't complain about anything.
This year is leap year. I'm sure that has some significance in some calendar or astrological chart, but I have no idea what it means. Maybe one of you will enlighten me.
I'll have more to report in early March. Until then, enjoy your life.
Love,
dan
I'm still on maintenance--velcade and steroids once a week. I won't get any reports on my blood until March 3rd (after the blood draw next Monday, Feb. 25th). I have this week off and am enjoying it immensely. The chemo regime this fall--velcade, revlimid and steroids, was so rough that velcade once a week feels like no chemo at all, to me. Until the fourth week of the cycle when I get off all drugs, and then I realize how my reality has changed. Anyway, I'm doing OK, because I am so fortunate to be able to handle these drugs without a whole lot of debilitating side effects.
I'm continuing to enjoy life, choosing to do those things that give me joy, and spending time with many friends. Can't complain about anything.
This year is leap year. I'm sure that has some significance in some calendar or astrological chart, but I have no idea what it means. Maybe one of you will enlighten me.
I'll have more to report in early March. Until then, enjoy your life.
Love,
dan
Monday, January 28, 2008
Confounding Numbers
Sitting in the examination room on Monday. Waiting to get the velcade infusion and get out of there. No appointment with Rifkin, as I saw him last week. Expecting to get the results from the blood work that was drawn last Monday. The door opens and in walks Rifkin. "uh oh", I say, "What are you doing here?" He brushes my comment off and says its a good practice when my numbers are available for him to go over them with the patient. NOT! He rarely does that, and my blood pressure starts to creep up.
So, the Igg's have risen a bit in the last month(about 250 points) , but some of the other markers are very good. He must have said 3 times, "I'm not worried." We will stay the course on maintenance for awhile, although I was clear with him that I thought we had let the Igg's run up too high last summer before beginning treatment, as by the end of that run, I was very fatigued and my back was acting up quite a bit. He said if the Igg's continue to go up (which he isn't saying will happen in the near term), he'll probably "pulse" me with another few cycles of revlimid. As he left the room he looked me directly in the eyes and said, "you have a quality of life, Dan, and that's very important." That comment told me everything. The goals of treatment are as much directed at trying to give me the ability to have some normalcy in my life, while at the same time holding the disease at bay. Knocking me down with heavy duty chemo that might temporarily drive the numbers down wouldn't give me much quality of life. Better to play the "numbers rising, but I'm not yet worried" game and give me some good days. I can agree with that.
So, that's what living with this nastiness was like this week. Amazingly, I continue to think that perhaps someday I will go in and the numbers will all be normal. I'm reminded of a blog I wrote almost 2 years ago, on March 27, 2006, titled, "Musings of a Passenger on a Roller Coaster." Now, that was a down time. My transplant had failed and I had just been kicked out of a new clinical trial for not responding to the new drug. Rifkin wasn't sure what the next course of treatment would be or whether it would work. I had been moved to the top of the list for a second transplant with one of my brothers as the potential stem cell donor. We decided, at that time, to boost the velcade with some steroids and, miracle of miracles, it worked. We have come a long ways in 2 years, my friends! I certainly don't feel that I'm still riding the roller coaster, at least not emotionally. We've moved on to a different ride. Would it be the Tilt-a-Whirl? No. How about the Carousel? No. I'm thinking maybe the Ferris Wheel. It certainly has its ups and downs, but is a much gentler ride and you certainly get a broad perspective when you're at the top. Yeh, I'll go with that metaphor, although it's usually associated with a bit more fun than I think we're having. So, staying with that metaphor, I guess we're just swinging toward the bottom, but soon our gondola will gently rise over the carnival (I certainly like that description of our many lives!) and we will exclaim, "oh, what a great view!" Until we reach the crest, we'll keep our eyes looking upward. And the ride will continue and life will be good.
Much love to all,
dan
So, the Igg's have risen a bit in the last month(about 250 points) , but some of the other markers are very good. He must have said 3 times, "I'm not worried." We will stay the course on maintenance for awhile, although I was clear with him that I thought we had let the Igg's run up too high last summer before beginning treatment, as by the end of that run, I was very fatigued and my back was acting up quite a bit. He said if the Igg's continue to go up (which he isn't saying will happen in the near term), he'll probably "pulse" me with another few cycles of revlimid. As he left the room he looked me directly in the eyes and said, "you have a quality of life, Dan, and that's very important." That comment told me everything. The goals of treatment are as much directed at trying to give me the ability to have some normalcy in my life, while at the same time holding the disease at bay. Knocking me down with heavy duty chemo that might temporarily drive the numbers down wouldn't give me much quality of life. Better to play the "numbers rising, but I'm not yet worried" game and give me some good days. I can agree with that.
So, that's what living with this nastiness was like this week. Amazingly, I continue to think that perhaps someday I will go in and the numbers will all be normal. I'm reminded of a blog I wrote almost 2 years ago, on March 27, 2006, titled, "Musings of a Passenger on a Roller Coaster." Now, that was a down time. My transplant had failed and I had just been kicked out of a new clinical trial for not responding to the new drug. Rifkin wasn't sure what the next course of treatment would be or whether it would work. I had been moved to the top of the list for a second transplant with one of my brothers as the potential stem cell donor. We decided, at that time, to boost the velcade with some steroids and, miracle of miracles, it worked. We have come a long ways in 2 years, my friends! I certainly don't feel that I'm still riding the roller coaster, at least not emotionally. We've moved on to a different ride. Would it be the Tilt-a-Whirl? No. How about the Carousel? No. I'm thinking maybe the Ferris Wheel. It certainly has its ups and downs, but is a much gentler ride and you certainly get a broad perspective when you're at the top. Yeh, I'll go with that metaphor, although it's usually associated with a bit more fun than I think we're having. So, staying with that metaphor, I guess we're just swinging toward the bottom, but soon our gondola will gently rise over the carnival (I certainly like that description of our many lives!) and we will exclaim, "oh, what a great view!" Until we reach the crest, we'll keep our eyes looking upward. And the ride will continue and life will be good.
Much love to all,
dan
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
New Year's Briefing
We saw Rifkin yesterday for the final dose of the first 4 weeks of maintenance. I get next week off and then start another 4 week cycle; provided the cancer levels are being maintained in the "acceptable" range. So far no blood has been tested to see if this reduced dosage is working and I won't have new info on "the numbers" until around Jan. 28th. Eliminating the revlimid from the regime has provided me great relief and even an uptick in energy. (or is it those notorious steriods?) I sure hope the maintenance works as a return to the revlimid would feel like shouldering a 100 pound weight for the upcoming months.
We had a nice and kind of quiet holiday, mostly with the family. The Williams family visited last week (they blog regularly--mostly Shawn and Jaike). They moved to North Carolina about 10 years ago, but they and their three girls are as interesting and lively as ever. Mike and Marta Dowell joined us and the Williams for an evening of Susan's cooking and catching up on our and our kids lives. It was great. The tree is down and tucked away and things feel like they're returning to normal; which means we feel a bit bored and are looking for a place in a warmer climate to spend a few days away from this winter weather.
Best wishes to all and may your new year be filled with joy, happiness, prosperity and good health.
Love to all,
Dan
We had a nice and kind of quiet holiday, mostly with the family. The Williams family visited last week (they blog regularly--mostly Shawn and Jaike). They moved to North Carolina about 10 years ago, but they and their three girls are as interesting and lively as ever. Mike and Marta Dowell joined us and the Williams for an evening of Susan's cooking and catching up on our and our kids lives. It was great. The tree is down and tucked away and things feel like they're returning to normal; which means we feel a bit bored and are looking for a place in a warmer climate to spend a few days away from this winter weather.
Best wishes to all and may your new year be filled with joy, happiness, prosperity and good health.
Love to all,
Dan
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Lightening the Chemical Load
First, if you haven't read the previous blog about Goldmine's Marathon, please scroll back to it after you finish this. The listing of blogs should appear on the right side of your screen when you log onto the blog. And if you can help him in his fundraising effort for blood cancer, please do, even if its only $25 or $50. I promise this is the last of my fundraising for awhile.
Now for the Rifkin visit yesterday: Rifkin has moved me to a maintenance dose, despite telling me that the standard protocol for the drugs I was on is now 8 cycles. (I went through 4 cycles in 3 months, which means another 3 months to meet the 8 cycle protocol). He seems comfortable with his decision and I'm elated because the maintenance regime is once a week with the velcade (down from twice), steroids once a week (the same), heavy duty antibiotics 3 times a week (the same) and NO REVLIMID (down from every day). The revlimid is what was knocking me down, so I'm expecting this maintenance dose will let some of my energy return. When I was on the velcade and steriods twice a week in 2006 for about 4 months, as I recall my energy was pretty good, and I was even able to drink some wine, something I couldn't do with the revlimid. If this maintenace holds my numbers (won't know those until next week) I'll be on it for the indeterminate future, up to 2 years is the current recommendation. Then who knows, maybe they'll have this disease figured out. It does seem that it is moving toward treating a chronic disease as opposed to just prolonging my life for a short period of time. I tried to get some info from Rifkin on some of the new drugs currently in trials, but my questions were rather summarily dismissed with, "those are in the very early stages of research". In other words, "shut up and quit trying to be the doctor." Oh well, I'll just keep asking and eventually he'll answer. (that's the same kind of perseverance that keeps me going, so no one is going to squelch it, even my doctor!)
Importantly, I got my first Monday night's sleep last night since September. Every Monday I got juiced with velcade, steroids, and revlimid and couldn't sleep more than 2 hours, on a good night. A heavy duty sleeping pill helped, but they didn't previously override the drugs. So, I am excited about actually sleeping on Mondays!
Julia returned late Friday night, after a 40 hour trip from Cape Town, through Johannesburg, Senegal, New York City, Atlanta, and Denver. She is still exhausted. We are gradually drawing out her stories. She has had a terrific experience. I will share one thought. The director of her program told the group as they were preparing to leave not to think that Africa needed their help and not to commit to coming back to bring a better life to all those in Africa who have much more difficult lives (which they do). "Enjoy your comfortable lives and the blessings that come with living in America at this time. Do not feel guilty. If you are motivated to help people, there are many people in your own country who need your help. Go help them because you have an understanding of the cultural context giving rise to their poverty and thus, will have a better chance of bringing actual change to their lives." (or maybe this is just her way of subtly telling us she's not going back to work in Africa!)
Catherine has been promoted to senior financial analyst at her consulting firm. While we are very proud of her, I couldn't help asking, "how can a 24 year old be a senior anything?"
Merry Christmas to all,
Love,
Dan
Now for the Rifkin visit yesterday: Rifkin has moved me to a maintenance dose, despite telling me that the standard protocol for the drugs I was on is now 8 cycles. (I went through 4 cycles in 3 months, which means another 3 months to meet the 8 cycle protocol). He seems comfortable with his decision and I'm elated because the maintenance regime is once a week with the velcade (down from twice), steroids once a week (the same), heavy duty antibiotics 3 times a week (the same) and NO REVLIMID (down from every day). The revlimid is what was knocking me down, so I'm expecting this maintenance dose will let some of my energy return. When I was on the velcade and steriods twice a week in 2006 for about 4 months, as I recall my energy was pretty good, and I was even able to drink some wine, something I couldn't do with the revlimid. If this maintenace holds my numbers (won't know those until next week) I'll be on it for the indeterminate future, up to 2 years is the current recommendation. Then who knows, maybe they'll have this disease figured out. It does seem that it is moving toward treating a chronic disease as opposed to just prolonging my life for a short period of time. I tried to get some info from Rifkin on some of the new drugs currently in trials, but my questions were rather summarily dismissed with, "those are in the very early stages of research". In other words, "shut up and quit trying to be the doctor." Oh well, I'll just keep asking and eventually he'll answer. (that's the same kind of perseverance that keeps me going, so no one is going to squelch it, even my doctor!)
Importantly, I got my first Monday night's sleep last night since September. Every Monday I got juiced with velcade, steroids, and revlimid and couldn't sleep more than 2 hours, on a good night. A heavy duty sleeping pill helped, but they didn't previously override the drugs. So, I am excited about actually sleeping on Mondays!
Julia returned late Friday night, after a 40 hour trip from Cape Town, through Johannesburg, Senegal, New York City, Atlanta, and Denver. She is still exhausted. We are gradually drawing out her stories. She has had a terrific experience. I will share one thought. The director of her program told the group as they were preparing to leave not to think that Africa needed their help and not to commit to coming back to bring a better life to all those in Africa who have much more difficult lives (which they do). "Enjoy your comfortable lives and the blessings that come with living in America at this time. Do not feel guilty. If you are motivated to help people, there are many people in your own country who need your help. Go help them because you have an understanding of the cultural context giving rise to their poverty and thus, will have a better chance of bringing actual change to their lives." (or maybe this is just her way of subtly telling us she's not going back to work in Africa!)
Catherine has been promoted to senior financial analyst at her consulting firm. While we are very proud of her, I couldn't help asking, "how can a 24 year old be a senior anything?"
Merry Christmas to all,
Love,
Dan
Friday, December 14, 2007
Goldmine's Marathon and First Contact
Now that's a headline that's sure to have you scratching your head. So let's start with "Goldmine's Marathon." Julia's friend, Bob Group, works as a geologist in a goldmine in Victor, Colorado (in the mountains outside Colorado Springs). Well, given my and our family's propensity for assigning nicknames to people, Bob soon became Goldmine Bob, now shortened to Goldmine. (As a total aside, here are a few of the nicknames coming out of my youth in Dickinson: Spike, Spook, Wheels, Boo, Moose, Big Frank Dickinson, Big Fella, Horrible, Hutz, Duke (is that really a nickname), Fuzzy, Sharkey, Badip, and on and on---most of whom actually read this blog). Welcome to the group Goldmine.
Anyway Goldmine has gotten himself in a bit of a bind it seems. This fall he volunteered to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society by agreeing to run a marathon in Florida (remember he lives in Colorado Springs). Well, that marathon is due to be run in mid January. And Goldmine needs some help in his fundraising. Now from my viewpoint this effort of his is no small endeavour and it is a very generous gesture, all to help people like me stay alive. That Goldmine has a big heart! So, if you find that you still need to log some charitable donations before year end, or if you received a bigger Christmas bonus than you expected, or if you just want to give a little more to a very worthwhile cause, you can donate on line through Goldmine's website (they didn't use his nickname): www.active.com/donate/tntrm/tntrmRGroup. Let's show our support for Goldmine, who's traveling to Florida to run 26 miles, just to raise money for blood cancer research. Any amount will be greatly appreciated! THank you.
Now, what's this "First Contact" mean? Julia has touched down in New York City. We received a call this morning at 7:30 and will be picking her up tonight at 10. Her trip home will take her 40 hours to get to Denver, starting with her departure from Cape Town. We are so excited to see her, hear her stories and look at her pictures.
I see Rifkin on Monday and expect to start the maintenance regime then. I have no idea what that means, but will let you know.
Happy Holidays.
Dan
Anyway Goldmine has gotten himself in a bit of a bind it seems. This fall he volunteered to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society by agreeing to run a marathon in Florida (remember he lives in Colorado Springs). Well, that marathon is due to be run in mid January. And Goldmine needs some help in his fundraising. Now from my viewpoint this effort of his is no small endeavour and it is a very generous gesture, all to help people like me stay alive. That Goldmine has a big heart! So, if you find that you still need to log some charitable donations before year end, or if you received a bigger Christmas bonus than you expected, or if you just want to give a little more to a very worthwhile cause, you can donate on line through Goldmine's website (they didn't use his nickname): www.active.com/donate/tntrm/tntrmRGroup. Let's show our support for Goldmine, who's traveling to Florida to run 26 miles, just to raise money for blood cancer research. Any amount will be greatly appreciated! THank you.
Now, what's this "First Contact" mean? Julia has touched down in New York City. We received a call this morning at 7:30 and will be picking her up tonight at 10. Her trip home will take her 40 hours to get to Denver, starting with her departure from Cape Town. We are so excited to see her, hear her stories and look at her pictures.
I see Rifkin on Monday and expect to start the maintenance regime then. I have no idea what that means, but will let you know.
Happy Holidays.
Dan
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Would You Like a Velcade Glaze on that Turkey?
Yes, we started Thanksgiving day with a trip to the clinic to get the velcade infusion. Now, don't go feeling sorry for me, as I was accompanied by my mother, who wanted to see the set up at the clinic (oh, that infusion room is warm and fuzzy!), and more importantly, we returned home to put the turkey in and a few hours later we filled our plates with another one of Susan's great Thanksgiving Day feasts. Although we had a good group of friends and family, we did miss Julia. She'll be home in about 2 1/2 weeks. My appetite was not affected in the least by the velcade, as evidenced by my 3 pound weight gain (in one day!), which I'm now trying to shed.
My mother and Bob leave this morning. Bob has completed his list of home repairs (a short list this year) and Mom has taken in the "must sees" in Denver, including the new Art Museum, as well as a trip to our nationally known Tattered Cover Bookstore. They both look great and are doing remarkably well given their octogenarian status. Although we had a nice visit, I suspect they are ready to be back home, as living with 'roid boy, is about as easy as walking on thumb tacks or eggshells. Let's see, as Susan describes it, I don't speak for 3 days, and then, after an infusion, you can't shut me up. Does that mean that when I speak, they now listen? Doesn't seem to be the case. Oh well......
And as for those numbers? They continue to go in the right direction. The IGGs are now at 1596, down from 1898, and just in "normal" range, which is 700 to 1600. I know Rifkin would like to see them down a bit more, which hopefully will occur with this next cycle. I think I continue to be on track to go on a maintenance dose, starting 12/17. Maybe it will level out those ups and downs a bit. We can hope.
Time continues to be my friend, as more drugs are being tested every day. My friend, Ted, recently sent me some info on a new drug (carfilzomib), which is similar to velcade and is going into clinical trials right now. It holds much promise, as it works very much like velcade but without the nasty neuropathies, and doesn't seem to develop the resistance that the myeloma sometimes develops to the velcade. Just more evidence of the importance of that fundraising that so many of you support through your Light the Night donations.
We hope all of you had a festive holiday, are back to your preholiday weight, and are ready to cruise into the next series of holiday parties. Thank you again for all your support. We continue to be deeply grateful.
Love,
Dan
My mother and Bob leave this morning. Bob has completed his list of home repairs (a short list this year) and Mom has taken in the "must sees" in Denver, including the new Art Museum, as well as a trip to our nationally known Tattered Cover Bookstore. They both look great and are doing remarkably well given their octogenarian status. Although we had a nice visit, I suspect they are ready to be back home, as living with 'roid boy, is about as easy as walking on thumb tacks or eggshells. Let's see, as Susan describes it, I don't speak for 3 days, and then, after an infusion, you can't shut me up. Does that mean that when I speak, they now listen? Doesn't seem to be the case. Oh well......
And as for those numbers? They continue to go in the right direction. The IGGs are now at 1596, down from 1898, and just in "normal" range, which is 700 to 1600. I know Rifkin would like to see them down a bit more, which hopefully will occur with this next cycle. I think I continue to be on track to go on a maintenance dose, starting 12/17. Maybe it will level out those ups and downs a bit. We can hope.
Time continues to be my friend, as more drugs are being tested every day. My friend, Ted, recently sent me some info on a new drug (carfilzomib), which is similar to velcade and is going into clinical trials right now. It holds much promise, as it works very much like velcade but without the nasty neuropathies, and doesn't seem to develop the resistance that the myeloma sometimes develops to the velcade. Just more evidence of the importance of that fundraising that so many of you support through your Light the Night donations.
We hope all of you had a festive holiday, are back to your preholiday weight, and are ready to cruise into the next series of holiday parties. Thank you again for all your support. We continue to be deeply grateful.
Love,
Dan
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
A Brief Update
I'm providing this update in response to a number of you who have emailed or directly asked me, "so what did Rifkin say at your last appointment?" So here's the latest. I saw Rifkin on Monday and he is ecstatic at the response. "Better than sliced bread," is how he described it. And he actually brought up the subject of how long I might have to continue with this regime. I will undergo an assessment (just blood work I hope) following one more cycle. He appears to want to rely primarily on the IGG levels to make a decision as to whether to continue with the current regime or to look at reducing the drugs to a maintenance dose. He said they've come up with a maintenance regime (but couldn't recite it for me). I feel very encouraged for at least 2 reasons. First, because this combo is working. Second, because there is some end in sight to the rigors of this chemo. So that's the status. I have next week off, then start the 4th chemo cycle on November 19, just in time for Thanksgiving.
and with that, Happy Thanksgiving to all.
Love,
Dan
and with that, Happy Thanksgiving to all.
Love,
Dan
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