I'll Sleep Easy Tonight
“In the end, quality of life won out. I'll still be monitored closely, and if tumors do appear, we'll jump on them. But if not, I'll get a little more time to feel reasonably normal.”
Journalism professors always tell you never to bury the lead of a story. So here it is: No chemo. At least not for a while. Now, virtually every one of you who has written in over the last couple of days has said the same thing: Take the chemo. Kick the tumors while they're down. And I went up to the hospital today prepared to agree to just that, albeit a little reluctantly. Being off chemo these last eight weeks has been terrific. And when your doctors tell you the next chemo will be much tougher, well, that's sobering.
I truly love my doctors. Not just because they are among the best in the world, but because they are patient with me. They let me work through things out loud, asking questions that I'm sure are sometimes annoying. But they also give me straight answers. They're honest.
So for two hours today, Dr. Christian Meyer, my oncologist, and Dr. Ross Donehower, Director of Medical Oncology at Johns Hopkins, talked me through this decision. I'm at the point in the disease where there are no more easy choices. No one knows what will happen exactly. If A, then B, or maybe C... or perhaps D and E to top it all off. So in the end, you have to make the best decision you can.
I have to admit that my doctors surprised me a little. After going through all the options, it was finally time to make a decision. And their advice was to go through the remaining two Radio Frequency Ablation procedures to kill the two tumors still in my lungs. Then we'll see what happens. If, or rather when, tumors do reappear, I'm no worse off if I start the new chemo then instead of now. And there's one huge advantage: quality of life.
Everyone seems to agree that the next round of chemo, with the drugs Irenotican and Erbitux, has much tougher side effects than I've been through before: nausea and vomiting, diarrhea, hair loss and bad acne. Who would have ever thought that 30 years after high school, acne would rear its head again? So in the end, quality of life won out. I'll still be monitored closely, and if tumors do appear, we'll jump on them. But if not, I'll get a little more time to feel reasonably normal. By the middle of March, that last tumor in my lungs will hopefully have died a painful death.
And then I guess we get ready for the next round, whenever it comes. I'm comfortable with this decision; I think it's the right one. I'll sleep easy tonight.
5:47 AM ET | 02- 1-2007 | permalink


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