August 14, 2006 - Day 6 - Week 19 - Appreciation  and  Thanksgiving

I wish to express my sincere appreciation to those who have called, sent notes etc.  Your emphatic hugs have bolstered me at a time when the story of the Kreitler Medical Journal was almost becoming farcical.  How could so much go so wrong in one person so quickly?  Have I been naughty and not nice?  Have I skipped my prayers?  Have I wandered under ladders or in front of black cats?  Obviously, I am having a little fun with my “condition.”   If I don’t laugh, I think I might cry; but then again that does not help but laughter can be therapeutic.

Today is a big day in the scheme of things.  I began chemo in April.  Today was the second baseline check.  The first PET (Positron Emission Tomography) and CT (Computed Tomography) scans showed a 30 per cent reduction in the tumors that had settled in my lymphatic system.  I was anxious, arrived on time, only to have to wait 45 minutes because one of the machines had to been checked twice.  This made me more anxious, and I must admit a bit obnoxious as well – not really, but every other time in this imaging center I had been seen immediately.  By the time my glucose level was tested it had reached 285 – way to high, and a thoughtful reminder of category one of my story – I am a type II adult onset diabetic and my blood sugar should be around 120.  For a few brief moments the doctors had to debate if I was eligible for the scan at all today because the stuff they put in me is high in sugar.  After deliberation it was decided to go ahead as planned and I disrobed and climbed on the sliding bed which sends me back and forth through the picture imaging.

I closed my eyes, did not think about anything except Cape Cod, and the ½ hour went by quickly.  I forgot to mention that my anxiety level was elevated as well do to a poor first stick in my hand, and the second one in my wrist was not particularly comfortable.  I suppose having  an IV in your hand 5 times in a week is enough for anyone.

I left anxious not knowing whether the symptoms of shortness of breath, a cough, and light headedness meant my tumors had returned.  I have been a good boy regarding diet, I have attempted to remain healthy, but all the curveballs have come at me so fast I figured something was going on.

1 o’clock, 2 o’clock, 3 o’clock, 4 o’clock, 5 o’clock, 6 o’clock, 6:30 pm, 6:45 and the phone call I had been waiting for came.  Dr. Piro, direct and realistic, started with a sentence that brought me to tears; and frankly, I am welling up as I share this.

“Peter we have fantastic results.  The PET scan is negative.  The CT scan shows the lymph nodes are gone, or dramatically decreased.”

I gulped, could not respond, and had to hear it again.  Granted there is some activity around the thickening of the gall bladder wall and there are markings in the lungs, but these seem minor and reversible with antibiotics. The news still has not sunk in. No I am not cured nor is my cancer in complete remission, the good doctor was at liberty to proclaim either, but as of tonight there are no tumors.  I can not continue. Goodnight.

Back to Week 19