Aftermath

Yesterday Grace and I drove down to Stanford and had lunch with my PhD advisor John Flavell and his wife Ellie (thanks John and Ellie for lunch!). Afterward we took a walk with them and stopped in and saw Eleanor Maccoby, another retired Stanford developmental psychology professor - she's 93 and still sharp as a tack.

Back to Sarah & JK's, where some people gathered to watch the Giants game (they lost). More people arrived later for a party. We had Mexican food from a local taqueria and ice cream from Mitchell's. There were many of my favorite people in the world there. Grace, Sarah & Jonathan & Toby & Jacob, Eric, Michael & Hannah, Lindsay & Wally & Joe & Gus & Annie (with whom I got some good snuggle time), Tami & Peter & Clara & Kate, Deepak & Shareen, Grace's sister Gigi & her son Zac & her friend Inge, Peter Molnar, Leo & Vandy & Truman. We had a dance break around 8:30 pm. Peter told the clown joke. The party was the most fun I've had in a long time - thanks Jonathan & Sarah for hosting.

Around 11:00 pm people started heading home. Michael & Hannah were going out to a club and Eric & I decided to join them. We drove down to the South of Market area and went to this club called Temple. We got in without waiting in the long line or paying the $40 (!) entrance fee because Hannah has known the DJ Jay since their childhood in Connecticut. We danced until about 1:00 am. Everyone was in costume. Sarah loaned me her witch costume (long black dress, scary gray wig). Michael & Hannah dropped off Eric & me back at Sarah & JK's around 1:30 am. I had to shower and change due to sweating from dancing in costume. But I felt good and, surprisingly, I feel fine this morning.

Eric had to get up at 5:00 am to go to the airport to fly back to North Carolina. Grace left around 7:00 am to fly back to Seattle. I'm sorry they had to leave but grateful for our time together. It's a beautiful sunny morning here.

Ethan

Saturday update

Yesterday Eric and I drove over the Golden Gate Bridge and went for a walk in the Marin Headlands, with views of the city, coast, and ocean. We returned to the city and met Larry (who was in a full bunny suit) for lunch at a Singaporean restaurant in the Inner Sunset. Back to Sarah and JK's, where I rested and finished the book "Sick Girl." Grace and her younger brother Greg arrived - Grace had just flown in from Seattle and Greg, who lives in the East Bay, had picked her up at the airport. Greg's new girlfriend Katie, who is very nice, also arrived via BART from the East Bay. Eric, Grace, Greg, Katie, and I went out for dinner at Mi Lindo Peru, a Peruvian restaurant on Mission St that I like (thanks Greg for dinner!). Afterward we stopped at Mitchell's for ice cream - yum! Back to Sarah and JK's, where some of us, including me, watched the movie "Master and Commander." A very nice day.

Ethan

Friday update

Yesterday I went downtown and had lunch at a hole-in-the-wall Vietnamese place that I like, Tu Lan. In the afternoon I took BART over to North Berkeley, where Tami picked me up with her two adorable daughters Clara and Kate. Over to Tami and Peter's beautiful house, with views of the bay, where we had Indian food for dinner (thanks Tami and Peter for dinner!) and watched the Giants win Game 2. Tami and Peter are such nice people; it felt very comfortable and relaxing to be there.

Ethan

Giants!

Yesterday I took BART downtown, walked to Chronicle Books, and had lunch with Sarah and Lindsay (thanks Sarah for lunch!). Afterward Lindsay and I walked around AT&T Park (the Giants stadium) to soak up the atmosphere before the first World Series game later that day (which Lindsay attended - Chronicle Books got two tickets and her coworkers voted to give them to the biggest Giants fans in the office, Lindsay being one!).

Back to Sarah & Jonathan's to rest and finish "World War Z." Folks gathered there to watch the Giants game: myself, Sarah & JK, Eric, Tami, and Wally and his three cute kids. The Giants won and it was great to be able to watch it with SF friends. Afterward Eric, Sarah, and I walked along Mission St, where people were celebrating the win, to the Latin America Club (near my former condo), where Lindsay joined us for a post-game drink. We walked home - it was still pretty warm out. I was tired but happy.

Ethan

SF update

Yesterday morning I drove (thanks to Jonathan and Sarah for lending me their car) over to Deepak and Shareen's house in Cow Hollow just off Union St. They completely renovated their house a couple years ago and it looks amazing. They took me over to Fort Mason and we walked through the lovely community garden, which I had never seen before, and to a lookout point with great views of the north side of the city, the bay, Alcatraz, Angel Island, etc. It was another beautiful warm sunny day and the bay was a beautiful blue color. Then we went over to the Presidio and had a nice lunch at the Presidio Social Club (thanks Deepak and Shareen for lunch!). Afterward we took a walk through the Presidio to an overlook with views of the Golden Gate, Marin headlands, etc. You couldn't ask for a nicer day.

After stopping back at JK & Sarah's house to rest and read, I met Eric at the Connecticut Yankee, a New England-themed sports bar/restaurant in Potrero Hill, where Eric and I used to go to watch the Red Sox, Celtics, Patriots, etc., to watch the opening game of the new NBA season between the Celtics (now with Shaq) and the Heat (now with LeBron). The Celtics won, although they didn't look great and the Heat looked awful, besides LeBron. We were joined by Michael and Jon Burke, down from the North Bay, Wally, over from their new house in the Sunset, and O'Neal and his wife Sarah, who live in Potrero. It felt good to be there together.

Ethan

San Francisco!

I flew from Bellingham to Oakland this morning. Michael picked me up at the airport and we drove over the Bay Bridge to SF. We parked downtown, walked to the ferry building, and met Jonathan at the Slanted Door for a delicious upscale Vietnamese lunch with views of the bay. It was a beautiful warm sunny day. Then Michael dropped me off at Jonathan and Sarah's house in the Mission, where I am staying. I walked over to Bernal Heights, past the house on Coso where I, Eric, Sarah, Peter, Leo, and many others lived at one time or another, and up to the top of Bernal Hill, from where I had great views over the city and all around the bay. Walked back to Sarah and Jonathan's, where I rested and read "World War Z," which they had on their bookshelf and Eric had previously recommended. When Jonathan came home from work, I convinced him to get a burrito with me for dinner. Pork al pastor - yum! Toby and Jacob got back from kung fu class and we had an interesting conversation about submarines, Somali pirates, and Dungeons & Dragons.

I'm feeling good and it feels great to be here. Thanks to Michael for picking me up and for lunch and to Jonathan and Sarah for hosting me! I am truly blessed to have such wonderful friends.

Ethan

Update

Grace and I met with my oncologist Dr. Nestor yesterday afternoon. We decided that I will go on a "maintenance schedule" of just Avastin every three weeks for now. Dr. Nestor thinks that we have achieved "treatment to the best response" - that is, given the good response that I've had to the chemotherapy, more chemotherapy seems likely to have little additional benefit, and not enough benefit to outweigh the cost of making me feel bad (the fatigue would be expected to get worse and worse, and it had already reached the point of unacceptability to me). However, Dr. Nestor did not recommend taking a break from treatment entirely, so I will drop the "FOLFIRI" drug combo but keep the Avastin, which has less side effects. We will continue to monitor my condition via the CEA blood marker, occasional PET scans, and how I am feeling. When the cancer starts spreading again (apparently it's a matter of "when" not "if," barring a miracle - keep those prayers coming!), I will have to decide whether I want to resume the full chemo or not. The "time to progression" (when the cancer starts spreading) is unpredictable.

Dr. Nestor estimates that people typically regain 60-80% of their energy 6-8 weeks after stopping chemo. That matches my experience, in that it's been 5 weeks since my last full chemo, and I am still nowhere near my normal energy level. I am able to do some stuff, but I still spend a fair bit of time just sitting around and resting. Fortunately watching baseball suits my current energy level. I used to find baseball games too slow to sit and watch all the way through, but now their pace and rhythm suit me fine.

Ethan

A milestone

Today I played full court basketball for the first time since I got sick. I played two games (went 1-1). Boy, am I not in basketball shape. At first I was jogging up and down the court but by the end I was walking. Still, I was out there and even made a few plays.

Thanks to everyone who participated in the blood drive at WWU this week. Apparently they had a record number of donors (http://onlinefast.org/wwutoday/news/puget-sound-blood-center-concludes-best-ever-blood-drive-wwu). I know Grace and Kristi waited two hours to donate blood on Wednesday. Fortunately I haven't needed a transfusion in a while, but I am still grateful for you donors.

Our friends Kate and Lew, San Francisco natives and Giants fans, came over for dinner last night and to watch the Giants fail to clinch a spot in the World Series. I really hope the Giants win one this weekend, because then they would be in the World Series when I am in San Francisco next week (knock on wood)!

Ethan

A few good days

Sunday my mom and I drove up Route 20 into North Cascades National Park and looked at the mountains and lakes. The air smelled clean and sweet up there. Yesterday I went to the university and played basketball (3 games of half court, went 3-0) and stopped by my office. In the late afternoon my mom and I took a walk on Semiahoo Spit in Birch Bay, with views over the water to Mt Baker and the Canadian Coastal Range.

Today my mom and I drove up Mt Baker Highway to the end at Artist Point and did a couple of short hikes (Artist Ridge and Bagley Lakes). Beautiful fall colors. It was so warm I was hiking in a t-shirt. I'm glad we went today because it's supposed to start raining soon. I'm still tired but much better than last week. Pics: http://remmel.shutterfly.com/1900

Ethan

WWU men's golf

Congratulations to the WWU men's golf team, who won a tournament in California last week. They won three of the four tournaments on their fall schedule. Congratulations in particular to Patrick Boag, who shot a 220 (ninth best at the tournament). I am following the WWU men's golf team this season because of Patrick, who was a student in one of my courses last winter quarter. Coincidentally, he was also in one of Grace's courses that same quarter. He figured out that we were a couple when Grace brought Miles to my class one day.

When he heard about my illness, Patrick wrote me a beautiful message, which I really appreciated. So go Vikings! Good luck in your spring schedule and the Division II national championships!

Ethan

Feeling better today

This morning Grace, Miles, my mom, and I went to the monthly Swedish pancake breakfast at the Norway Hall. Saw Fred and Barb Grote there. My mom had not been before but enjoyed the kitschy scene. Then we went to the fall pumpkin festival at Stoney Ridge Farm. Farm animals, hay wagon ride, corn maze, pumpkin patch, kiddie train ride, etc. Saw Michael Barr and family there.

It is sunny but cool and crisp - a nice fall day.

I have stayed upright almost all day so far, a vast improvement, with some chemical help. I have found that taking a little oxycodone gives me energy, I assume because it counteracts the opiate withdrawal (oxycodone is also an opiate). Of course, I am leery of just replacing my dependence on Fentanyl with dependence on oxycodone. But it is an interesting dilemma - is it worth it to try to get off the opiates, if I feel better when I'm on them?

I am looking forward to the Giants-Phillies Game 1 later today. What a great pitching matchup: Tim Lincecum vs. Roy Halladay. My order of preference for who wins the World Series: 1. Giants (I lived 10 years in San Francisco and adopted the Giants as my National League team), 2. Phillies (for the sake of my friend George, a Phillies fan), 3. Rangers, 4. Yankees (of course, as a native Red Sox fan).

Speaking of the Giants, my dear friend Lindsay (a big Giants fan) visited on Thursday and Friday. She and her husband Wally and their three kids live in San Francisco, but Lindsay was in Seattle on business and drove up to Bellingham. It was great to see her; she is a lovely person. She brought Giants headgear for the whole family. Miles's panda hat is particularly cute (the Giants third baseman Pablo Sandoval is known as Kung Fu Panda, or Panda for short, due to his rotund physique and fierce hitting).

OK, gotta go. Just wanted to let everyone know that I am feeling better today.

Ethan

Three new posts from Ethan below

A few things I've been writing over the past few days, when I've had the energy.

Some thoughts on death and dying

I am not afraid of death. That is, I do not fear being dead. I suspect that being dead is not like anything (to use the philosopher Thomas Nagel’s terminology, from his famous essay on consciousness and the mind-body problem, “What is it like to be a bat?”). That is, I suspect that when my physical body dies my consciousness will simply cease. I would be overjoyed to be wrong – to discover that there is a world beyond this one, like “The Matrix” (but preferably with less evil robots and better acting). To stumble out of Plato’s cave, rubbing my eyes, to see that this life was but a shadow of reality cast upon the cave wall.

I would love to find that my consciousness could still interact with those of others. It is comforting to think that we might be reunited with our loved ones. I have told Grace that if there is an afterlife, I will be looking for her. I wouldn’t mind if any of her other boyfriends after me were there too, as long as I could be with her again.

I do not believe in heaven or hell, especially hell, but if there were a divine judgment on my life, I would not be afraid to face it. I believe that I have mostly lived up to my own moral standards and those of my community. I may be guilty of sins of omission – I could have done more to fight injustices around the world, more than just my relatively small donations to organizations consistent with my values, such as Amnesty International, ACLU, and NRDC – but I think I have committed few sins of commission – acts of injustice against others. I have no deep dark secrets. I have tried to be conscious of the consequences of my choices.

Sins of omission reminds me of one of the themes of the novel Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell, which Eric recommended to me. If you live in a society where the privileges of some people are made possible by the exploitation of others, and you partake of those privileges without fighting for the rights of those less fortunate, that is a moral choice, or rather an immoral one. As a privileged person in our unequal society, I feel guilty of this charge, as are many of us, to greater or lesser degrees.

I am not afraid of death. In fact, the way I have felt lately, death would be a welcome release from this prison of a body. From this life that is no longer worth living. From this constant struggle for survival. An escape from this lumbering robot that no longer obeys my commands. (“Lumbering robots” is how the biologist Richard Dawkins describes human beings, as complicated structures that have evolved simply to support the replication of our genes – the only parts of us that survive our death, via our descendants. Dawkins does note, however, that we can also create “memes” – cultural products and practices, such as the game of poker, the practice of cooking meat, or the belief in God – that survive our death, via their propagation in other people’s minds and behavior.) This lumbering robot is easy to wound but hard to kill. There is no on/off switch. If there were, I would have been tempted to switch it off by now.

I am not afraid of death, but I am not so keen on dying. I am not looking forward to the process of getting from here (life) to there (death). I hope to make this transition as gracefully as possible, but it seems difficult to do well. It feels like trying to cross a rushing river by stepping on small slippery stones.

But when does living end and dying begin? Can they be clearly separated? I don’t think so. All living is dying, in that all life ends in death. But there is a shift in mental attitude from being healthy and death being a distant abstraction to being sick and death being a nearby reality. The challenge, of course, is to continue living with the knowledge that you are dying. To appreciate the present. It is tempting to feel that life is pointless when death is nearby. To lose hope for happiness.

Objectively, I know how I should approach my situation, but subjectively, it is hard to put into practice. I find that my mental/emotional state is closely coupled to my physical state. When I feel good physically, it’s not hard to be happy. But when I feel bad physically, it’s very hard to be happy. It’s hard to appreciate the present when you feel like crap. What is less clear to me is which side (physical vs. mental/emotional) drives the other – which is the cart and which is the horse. Do I feel good or bad physically because I feel good or bad mentally/emotionally, or vice versa? I wish that I could just decide to feel better physically, but I think it’s actually a more complicated interaction.

Sometimes I feel like Ethan has already died. That is, the real me, the Ethan you know and love, died when I got sick, and has been replaced by a fake me – not Ethan 2.0, a new and improved version, but Ethan 0.5, a slower and stupider version. I feel like I am being corroded from the inside out by an implacable parasite. This parasite is consuming me physically and also mentally. It is chomping like a caterpillar through my memory banks. I feel like I have aged 40 years in a few months. I have “senior moments” where I can’t remember something that I know that I knew. Encountering these blank spaces in my memory feels as if you were walking through your house and entered a room, but instead of being furnished, the room was empty with bare white walls. My mind feels like Swiss cheese.

Ethan

Ode to my caregivers

I would like to give thanks and praise to my primary caregivers, my mom and Grace.

My mom is with me more than anyone else these days. And let me tell you, I am not much fun to be with these days. I don’t go anywhere or do anything. I don’t contribute much to conversations. I’m not much help around the house. I just try to eat three meals a day, get a few minutes of exercise each day, and then go back to bed.

My mom is separated from her home, her husband, and her friends. She sleeps in our cold basement apartment, which has a tiny bathroom and spiders that bite her at night. She doesn’t get to see my sister’s family as often as she normally would.

And yet she has a big beautiful smile every morning when she greets me, and every evening when she says good night. She buys our groceries and cooks our dinners. She drives me to doctor appointments and sits with me during chemotherapy. She rubs my feet. She reads aloud to me when I am too tired to read to myself. She shares her Buddhist philosophy and personal wisdom. She has only lost her temper with me a couple of times, far fewer than I probably deserve.

Grace is also a strong woman. She holds down a full-time job, takes care of a 3-year-old almost singlehandedly (with basically no help from me and a little from my mom), and helps take care of me. It must be hard, and yet she maintains her cheerfulness and positive attitude.  I don’t know how she does it, but I’m glad she does. She is a beautiful spirit in a gorgeous body. She deserves better than this.

Ethan

Update from Ethan

I have been laid low lately by a mix of chemo-induced fatigue, depression, opiate withdrawal, and possibly a cold. I don’t know the proportions in the mix, but the result is that I have no energy to do anything. For the past 10 days straight I have spent 80-90% of the day horizontal, mostly lying motionless with my eyes closed, not sleeping but too tired to read or talk.

To address the chemo fatigue, I chose to drop two of the three main drugs for my most recent infusion this past Wednesday and only receive the one (Avastin) that is thought to have the least side effects. In hopes of recovering in time for my planned trip to San Francisco at the end of October, I refuse to put any other poisons in my body right now. The tradeoff is that it might reduce my already limited life expectancy, but I would rather feel better, if possible, for a shorter period of time than feel this bad for a longer period of time. In other words, I’m willing to trade quantity of life for quality of life.

To address the depression, I have started taking an antidepressant and seeing a counselor (although I had to cancel my meeting with the counselor today because I was too tired to go). I was reluctant to go on the antidepressant, because I am so sick of taking pills. I found this blog post relevant to the issue: http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/21/bidding-farewell-to-ghosts-of-pain/

Opiate withdrawal: since June I have been wearing a Fentanyl patch. Fentanyl is a powerful narcotic pain reliever (100 times stronger per amount than morphine). I don’t need it anymore for pain relief, but the one time I tried to go off it before I felt so bad that I put it back on. One of my doctors (Dr. Whiting) suggested that it might be depressing my energy level and that I should try to get off it because I would feel better in the long run. Well, I hope he’s right because in the short run I feel terrible (and my run isn’t expected to be that long anyway). Reminds me of the heroin withdrawal scene from the movie Trainspotting (although I haven’t had any hallucinations – thank goodness because that baby creeps me out): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GgeDh1WCyeM

Cold: I have had a stuffy runny nose lately, but I can’t tell if I have a cold. That’s what’s so frustrating about my situation – there are so many variables and medications that I can’t tell what’s affecting what or what I should do to feel better.

On a typical morning recently, I wake up between 7 and 8. I usually sleep in our former guest bedroom, and Grace and Miles sleep in the master bedroom. Within seconds of waking, I remember that I have cancer and am likely to die in the not-too-distant future. This awareness of cancer and death curdles the new day like lemon juice in milk. I am so sick of the C-word (cancer) and the D-word (death). Every little ache and pain brings a cold rush of fear – is that the cancer acting up?

I hear Grace and Miles get up. I feel that I should get up and say hello to them, but I have no energy. I feel guilty for not getting up. I curl up in the blankets like a warm cocoon against the chill outside (the nights are getting colder here – it’s 40 degrees right now at 11:23 PM). I promise myself I will get up by 9:00 AM. I close my eyes but I can’t go back to sleep. I hear Grace and Miles leave the house. I open my eyes periodically to check the time. As 9:00 AM approaches, I dread trying to get up. When 9:00 AM arrives, I command my body to get up. No response. I silently scream “Get up!” and slowly stagger to my feet, my body screaming back – “No! You can’t do it! Lie down! Rest!” I stumble to the kitchen and prepare and eat the quickest warm breakfast I can think of: hot chocolate and half a toasted bagel. Then the moment of truth: to stay upright or return to bed. Those of you who know me well know that I do not lack willpower. I may be quiet, but I’m stubborn. But the fatigue is stronger than my will, and I return to bed. I promise myself that I will get up by 12:00 PM for lunch. And so the day goes…

I am so tired.

Tired of being tired.

Ethan

Infusion Day

Hi Everyone,

Grace here again.  It's Infusion Day...Kathy and Ethan are on their way to the (temporary) Infusion Center for chemo #9.  Ethan has been on a typical first-line chemotherapy regimen for colon cancer called FOLFIRI + Avastin.  In layperson's terms, FOLFIRI is a combination of 3 different drugs to stop the cancer from reproducing.  Avastin is not chemotherapy, in that it's a "tumor-starving therapy" which is designed to block some sort of protein that's produced by cancer cells.  

Though I hadn't heard about whether the doctor agreed to it, Ethan would like to have only Avastin for this round. The worst side effects come from the drug Irinotecan (the "IRI" in FOLFIRI), and the 5-FU ("F") stinks too.

Send positive vibes to the Bellingham Infusion Center!

UPDATE: Ethan did just receive Avastin and Zometa (which is basically a bone strengthener, used in patients with bone metastases, as Ethan has).  Ethan had a mellow evening at home...

Blood Drive @ WWU

Hi Everyone,

Guest blogger Grace here.  We're still weathering a pretty rough spell (crushing fatigue), but we definitely appreciate everyone's good thoughts.  Ethan has a chemo infusion scheduled for this Wednesday, and he, along with his oncologist, are trying to decide how to maximize the benefits of chemo, while managing the sucky side effects.  Keep us in your thoughts!

If you are a WWU person, there's a blood drive on campus next week.  I didn't know that Western faculty, staff, and students rank as one of the largest donor groups.  Go Vikings!
http://www.piersystem.com/go/doc/1538/919107/

Ethan has mentioned in the past that if you want to "do" something to help, giving blood would be a something worthwhile.  Over the summer, he received several blood and platelet transfusions when his numbers were critically low.  I know that no one likes being stuck with needles, but it's really a good contribution, and I hope to join the ranks of blood donor next week (still haven't done it myself). 

~Grace

More bad days

Things are not going well. Every day has been a bad day lately. I had to cancel my trip to see George and Bennett in Southern California this weekend. I'm sorry but I am not checking email or messages regularly.

Ethan

Not good day

Tired. No energy. Bleah.

Ethan

Good day

Today was a good day. I felt good physically. I went to the university and played basketball. Four games of half court. My teams went 3-1. I definitely pushed myself a little physically, but I felt good afterward. We'll see how I feel tomorrow. Max and I were working the pick-and-roll. He was giving me some great passes on my rolls to the hoop. It reminded me of when my best friend Eric and I used to run the pick-and-roll. We had it down to where, even if our defenders knew it was coming, we could still almost always get a good shot off it.

Speaking of Eric, it's his birthday today. I love you, buddy! I feel lucky to know you.

I spent the afternoon in my office at WWU, doing some work-related errands. It felt good to be there. It reminded me of my normal life, in a good way.

When I got home, I played with Seth and Miles. Miles was cracking Seth and me up. He is one cute little guy. Miles and Seth wanted to talk to Grandpa Chuck, so we called him, which was nice.

In the evening Seth and I played "Settlers of Catan" (a board game) with our friends John, Julie, and Callum, which was fun. A good end to a good day.

Go Giants! (of baseball, not football)

Ethan

Monday update

Yesterday (Sunday) was a good day. I felt the best, physically and mentally, that I have in a while. I didn't struggle to get out of bed in the morning for the first time in a long time. I spent the day in a state of mild euphoria at the fact that I felt almost normal.

Grace's parents visited and we walked down to Boulevard Park and then around the boardwalk. Some pics: http://remmel.shutterfly.com/1887

Yesterday was the last chance to do that walk for a while, as the city is closing a section of the boardwalk to replace it. They say it will be closed for about 4 months.

It was nice to see Grace's parents. I really like them, and Grace's whole family for that matter. They have always been kind, warm, and welcoming to me and my family.

I feel OK today. Not as good as yesterday, but certainly better than most of the past couple weeks. I am so glad to not be getting chemo today.

In a short-notice decision, I bought tickets for Seth and me to visit my friend George and his son Bennett in Southern California (Redlands) this weekend. I'm excited about that. Carpe Diem!

Ethan

Saturday

Today I spent the morning and early afternoon laying in bed, while my mom took care of Seth and Grace took Miles to a fall fruit festival. I got more energy as the day went on, which is typical. In the late afternoon Grace, Miles, and I walked down to Boulevard Park and then over to Village Books in Fairhaven. Pics of Miles at the festival (taken by Grace) and the three of us in the play structure at the park: http://remmel.shutterfly.com/1874

The one thing I wanted to accomplish today was to cook dinner for all of us, which I did. Chicken tikka masala (one of my favorite dishes) and roasted root vegetables with garlic sage butter and Marcona almonds (a new recipe for me).

Bad sports day for me. SF Giants lost, failing to clinch a playoff spot (but they still can tomorrow), and Stanford lost in college football. The good part was that Seth sat next to me and cuddled during the Stanford game.

Some thoughts from today:

I enjoyed visiting Village Books. It's a really nice bookstore. I had that feeling of "there are so many things that I would like to read, and there is no way that I could ever read them all." Especially now. I happened to pick up a book called "Sick Girl" by Amy Silverstein. It's about her battle with a serious illness, which she survived. I read the first chapter quickly, and it was so familiar. She's trying not to let her kid see how bad she feels, she is proud of a minor accomplishment (packing a suitcase) but feels like other people don't realize how much effort it took her, she thinks about death, etc. I had a feeling of "wow, a lot of other people have gone through what I am going through." It didn't make me feel any better, but it made me realize that I often think about my illness as a unique and personal affliction, and not as a sort of experience that many people share.

Speaking of death, it's weird to think about it so much these days, and to try to balance that with daily living. It's strange to switch back and forth from thinking about things like "do I want to receive CPR if my heart stops?" and "do I want my body to be cremated?" to things like "what do I want for lunch?" and "why does the dishwasher jiggle?" That was another minor accomplishment today - I fixed the dishwasher from jiggling. It only took me three days (but no trips to the hardware store).

OK, good night.

Ethan

Reprieve!

Grace, my mom, and I met with my oncologist Dr. Nestor this afternoon. We decided to change my chemo schedule, so instead of two chemo infusions on Oct 4 and Oct 18, I will have one the week of Oct 11. This has several advantages. It gives me an extra week off now and before my planned trip to the Bay Area from Oct 25 to Nov 1. I could definitely use a break, as the fatigue during these last couple rounds of chemo has been discouraging. There doesn't seem to be much point in continuing a treatment plan indefinitely that leaves me too tired to do anything on most days.

This change also spares me from being one of the first patients to receive chemo at the new infusion center opening on Monday. Infusion services are moving from their current location to a temporary location at the hospital before moving someday to a planned new cancer center. I'm sure it will be a madhouse at the new location on Monday, and I hope things will have settled down a week later.

This change also means that we will meet with my second-opinion oncologist, Dr. Whiting in Seattle, before my next chemo. We meet with Dr. Whiting on Oct 7, so now we will be able to get his opinion on my treatment plan options before my next infusion.

By the way, my CEA number (blood marker of cancer activity) this week remained at 1.0, which is low, which is good.

OK, off to bed!

Ethan