Thurday, April 28th

Journal

I normally wear a safety helmet when I go to chemo, one I got at the Alameda Flea Market.

Safety first!

It’s a vintage helmet, probably originally for a civil defense worker in the 1950’s. I’ve worn it each and every time I’ve gone to chemo, and since this was my last scheduled session, Kaki decided to don hers as well. So we  set off enthusiastically in our helmets for our meeting with my oncologists, celebrating that this was to be my last chemo.

To out chagrin the doctor, although very entertained by our positive attitude, informed us that this was actually not the last chemo. Normally, he explained, chemo continues after surgery as well, sometimes for six months to a year.

So we should hang on to the helmets.

As a side note, I feel great and have a great sense of comfort from my oncologist and my surgeon. I feel like I’m in good hands.

My oncologist has very smartly disseminated information to me only when necessary. For example, it wasn’t until this last chemo session that he informed me that I was on the most brutal chemotherapy regimen available.

This was subsequently confirmed by two doctors I met who each said, “Huh, I’ve never seen someone on both oxyplatin and folfirinol.”  Both remarked on how well I was doing, considering that each one separately usually knocks people out.  Their comments seem to prove that my natural physical health and strength have been my greatest gift, besides the presence of Kaki with me every day.

It should also be noted that upon being weighed, I had gained 9 pounds.  All thanks to my Mendocino All-Natural Weight Gain Program. Smoke an ounce, gain some pounds!

During the meeting with the oncologist we  scheduled  a CAT scan on May 6 to reimage the tumor and decide if it has shrunk enough for surgery.  This will be decided by my surgeon Dr. Kirkwood on May 10. Although I am looking forward to all of this ending and getting back to a normal life again, the concept of the surgery is indescribably overwhelming. Especially now that my poops are so brown, which is a direct sign that my pancreas is functioning properly.