In the end

My Gang:

After about 150 days of chemo, more than 600 hours of poison dripping into my body, two months (at least in a hospital bed), and an outpouring of love that is as fantastic in its scope as its sincerity – treatment is finally over and the recovery can begin.

As abruptly as the chemo started, it has ended.

At about 1900 last night my doc recommended to Kate and me that we stop the treatments and begin recovery activities. I was sitting up in the bed Kate and the doctor were sitting side-by-side in visitor’s chairs at the foot of the bed. When he said no more chemo, Kate actually danced in her chair.

I was as stunned as you probably are.  But here are the reasons the doc cited:

1.     My cancer is in remission and has been since block #3

2.     The echocardiogram revealed a potential heart problem that could have a chemo related component

3.     The potential risks at this point outweigh the potential benefits

4.     Pounding my body with more of this aggressive chemo we’ve been using is just too risky.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it surely wasn’t that. I thought we'd adjust some of the chemicals, drive on, and begin round seven today or tomorrow. I couldn’t be happier. If you’ve been following this blog you know what it’s been like. If you haven’t – well, let’s just say it has been a long tough walk to get here.

What does this mean?

In the near term it means another PET/CT scan to make sure the cancer is still in remission; it means finishing the antibiotic therapy for the blood infection; it means going home (today); and it means not overdoing it too soon. It also means getting the PICC line removed from my arm.

In the longer term, I have some physical issues to work through that may go away over time such as the heart thing (known as a low ejection fraction). It might take care of itself, or I might have to take some drugs, but we’ll see. I also have some neuropathy in my arms and legs that I need to deal with.

My body is beat up and I have to get back in some kind of work shape; hell I can’t stay awake for more than two or three hours at a time without fatigue hitting me square in the nose. As supportive as my employer has been, I’m pretty sure bi-hourly naps are a non-starter. Hopefully the lethargy will ease up as the residual chemo dissipates. We’ll see.

I’ll write more tomorrow after I digest it all. But, that’s it for now!!

Love to all,

 Bill