Fucking Fifteen

Yes, I know my potty mouth is getting the best of me but read on and you’ll see why.

Twenty eight days ago, I started my third – and what appears to be the only – option available to me. This time I get a hormone injection in my booty every 28 days and take oral chemotherapy everyday. The side effects are quite a bit different this time around. As a reminder, my last meds were 14 days on and 14 days off. The biggest side effects with those meds were vomiting and, towards the end of the 14 days, pretty extreme fatigue (remember the honey badger getting stung by the Cobra?). I was able to maintain a fairly normal lifestyle and I had a whole lot of help from cannabis… I rarely threw up and laughed a whole lot!

This time, it’s quite a bit different: my main side effects are a lowered immune system (low white blood counts) and the it’s taxing on my already-compromised liver (high liver functions). Doesn’t sound all that bad, BUT to me it’s frustrating because I don’t have any tools in my tool box to help me. I can’t combat either of those side effects with additional meds or (better yet) medicinal cannabis.

When I first started this regimen, I slept 40 out of 60 hours (fatigue being another side effect) and my blood work didn’t look so hot. I had an opportunity to go on a last-minute trip to Quebec City a week after I started and my oncologist told me to take a break and enjoy the trip. After 24 hours of being off my meds, I felt amazing and had an incredible trip (it might be a blog post one day). As soon as I got home, I started back on my meds. Somewhere in this craziness it was discovered I have mass on my left ovary. After having a panic attack and bona fide meltdown in the MRI machine at the hospital I rescheduled and recently got the scan on another machine.

It appears there is a mass “suspicious of neoplasm” (aka possible cancer) on my left ovary and a cyst on my right. Fuck. A week ago I started having some pain in my flank area and called my doc who then sent me to the ER – the first time since my diagnosis. Fuck. I got a full work up where we discovered that my blood work looks pretty ok; it appears my body is adjusting to the new chemo, which might I add is the highest possible dose. But, now I have this tumor that I have to deal with. So wait a damn second!?!? My body is actually handling it, but now we have to figure out what this asshole is?? If it’s another nueroendocrine tumor, no surgery. If it’s ovarian cancer, well it complicates shit. Therefore, I just can’t think of a better word than “fuck” to sum it all up.

For some silly reason I decided to drink a glass of champagne on the first day of every round. My girlfriend Nicole has helped me execute this very difficult task. Remember the Lucky 13 post? Funny thing is (not as in a ha ha, but rather an ironic kind of funny) that my body stopped responding to that regimen right around that time. Apparently 13 wasn’t at all lucky… Fucker 😉

I know, this post might come across like I’m ready to throw myself off the top of the Organ Mountains… I was indeed pretty blue last week. But, my son has two baseball tournaments in the next two weeks, it’s hot as hell in Las Cruces, and the swimming pool is calling my name. I have a long list of fun and exciting projects at work to do, places to travel, blog posts to write, and movies to watch with my two boys. Somewhere along the way I’m gonna figure out what to do (if anything) to my new fucken tumor friend. But, I’m still me. This “journey” feels like a series of races. In the last month, I lost some, but I also won a few. Cancer has no idea how fiercely competitive I am and I WILL WIN. Mother fucker.