First Check-Up Since Remission

I'm a little late updating this because it is a busy time of year, but I just wanted to post that I went for my first quarterly check-up and blood work on November 29th, and I am still healthy as a horse, i.e., still cancer-free! I will be going for a repeat CT scan before my next check-up in late Winter, but other than that, my visits to the oncologist will continue to be clinical observation based.

As far as life goes, I have been teaching (on call) several times each week, in various grades K-7, as well as a few music classes. I'm still working at my daycare job, and have DJ'd for a couple events in the last month. After a month living together, Kaitlin and I are loving our new place, which I might add, is currently decked out for Christmas. One of the things I appreciate most about our suite is that we have a spectacular view of Southern Vancouver Island, the Pacific Ocean, Olympic Peninsula, and various Westshore mountains. This photo was taken from our backyard, looking West:

One last thing: Thank-you to everyone who donated to the Movember cause this year. I exceeded my goal of $1000, and ended up getting the cool incentive prize of a pocket knife and certificate.

My next post will most likely not be until after my check-up on April 3rd, so until then, thanks again for reading. I hope you have a wonderful, blessed, peaceful Christmas... and get all the presents you asked for!

All the best,
Christopher

Movember 2012

I thought I would do a quick post on here to say that I have been doing well over the last month and a half since I went into remission. I proposed to Kaitlin on September 29th, during our weekend trip to Tigh-Na-Mara Resort, and am excited to say that we have set a date, booked the venue, and started on all the rest of the planning for next summer!

We also moved in together on November 1st, and the set-up of our new place is coming along well.

The second part of this post is that I want to mention I have joined in the "Movember" cause for the fourth year and I would love all the help I can get! For those of you who don't know about this, let me explain: You grow a moustache during the month of November and collect donations for Movember Canada, which directly supports men's health initiatives, more specifically, prostate cancer awareness & education, survivorship, and research. It's a fantastic cause, and I believe strongly in it, so if you are reading this and are able to make a donation I would be eternally grateful! As of today I have raised $415. My goal is $1000. You can donate here... and THANKS!!!

Thanks for reading,

Christopher

The Day My Cancer Went Away

I took this photo from the balcony at my parents' house in Langley this morning. I think it is a good representation of what I am about to write about in this post. What? I gave it away in the title? Crap!

I had my CT scan last Thursday, and then I went to the mainland this weekend for my grandma's celebration of life, and my PET scan, returning to Victoria this morning.

The celebration of life was on Sunday afternoon, and it was a beautiful memorial with a good many wonderful stories, tears, and laughter. Grandma, your time came too early, and you sure are missed, but all of us are comforted by the way in which you live on in our hearts.

On Monday I hung around my parents' house, did a couple errands and chores, and went out for dessert with a friend in the evening.

On Tuesday morning I called my doctor's office and got the results of my CT scan which was really promising: 

The large complex anterior mediastinal mass has significantly decreased in size. The dominant 11.3 x 7.2 cm mass has almost completely resolved. A small amount of residual soft tissue thickening is present measuring 4.2 x 1.7 cm. An adjacent 4.7 x 3.2 cm mass previously measured 6 x 5.1 cm. No focal pulmonary nodules. No evidence of pleural or pericarial effusion. The visualized upper abdomen is unremarkable. No focal osseous abnormality demonstrated. IMPRESSION: prominent treatment response.

It was good to hear that the chemo had worked pretty well, even though I knew I was still most likely going to have to undergo radiation therapy.

I wasn't allowed to eat from 7:00 am until after my PET scan, so needless to say, by the time it got underway at 1:30 I was starving. My close friends and family know how much I eat during the day. Anyways, I was taken into a private room and administered the radioactive tracer via IV. The nurse dimmed the lights and told me that I needed to relax for 45 minutes, because if I did much of anything the PET scan would light up in the wrong places and block what they needed to see. I would highly recommend that you go read this Wikipedia article on PET scans because it is incredibly interesting, and the whole "resting thing" will make sense without me trying to explain it here. At any rate, I put on some music on my iPod, and ended up falling asleep. The next thing I knew, the nurse was shaking my foot and yelling my name. Apparently it's hard to wake me up when I'm snoozing. "At least you weren't snoring!" she said. After that, the experience was not much more than a 20 minute long CT scan.

I went to Jericho Beach with some friends following my PET scan, and then met up with my parents, my brother, and his girlfriend, for dinner at the Acropol Greek Restaurant on Broadway.

I returned home to Victoria today, and went to work at my after school care job this afternoon. 

Fast forward to 3:30 and I was reading a story to the kids when my phone rang. Every call has been something to do with my cancer these days, so I put the book on hold to grab the call. Sure enough, it was the BC Cancer Agency number on my call display, so I asked my coworker to finish reading while I went outside.

The caller was my oncologist and I don't remember exactly what he said because I've been in a bit of a daze ever since, but, well, my cancer didn't show up on the PET scan which means I am in remission, with the statistical chance of recurrence being only 10% over five years. And if the cancer doesn't come back in five years I'll get to say that I'm "officially" cured. I don't need to go see the doctor tomorrow anymore. I don't need to do radiation anymore. I don't need to tell people I have cancer anymore. 

I'll be going in for check-ups every three months (the first one is November 29th), and another CT scan in January to keep an eye on things, but for now I think it is pretty safe to say that I just beat Stage 4 Primary Mediastinal Large B-Cell Lymphoma in the Summer of 2012.

Note: For those who have been asking, the "soft tissue thickening" or fibrosis that showed up on the CT scan is normal after having such a large tumor, and it will always be there. Think of it as being kind of like scar tissue.

Thanks for all the love and support, everyone. I honestly don't even know what else to say right now, because the meaning of this is kind of just hitting me. I'm going to try to sleep on it, and then maybe update the blog within the next few days, or who knows, maybe not for a little longer. I think the first thing I need to do is process the whole thing, and try to get back into my "normal" life.

Wow, I'm really overwhelmed right now...

Thanks for reading,

Christopher

Chemo Round #6

Just a short update for today, because my brain is mush and my hands are numb and tingly.

I had my 6th and final chemotherapy session last Friday, and it went about the same as the previous few. I guess it is reason to celebrate, because the first step of beating this cancer is complete. Now I have to wait a couple weeks for CT and PET scans, which will determine what's next; most likely radiation therapy.

This photo is me and my favourite nurses at the cancer agency; Michelle, Cindy, Terri, and Anna Maria. I'm still planning on dedicating an entire blog post to how awesome they (and all the others) are!

I am a mixture of emotions right now. I'm feeling strong and confident, because my oncologist told me that he was impressed with my level of health and fitness. I'm feeling proud, because one of the nurses asked me if I would consider speaking about how exercise and a positive outlook helps with the management of chemo, at the inauguration ceremony for the new wing at the cancer agency in October. I'm feeling a bit diminished, because chemo was becoming a routine, and as weird as it sounds I actually somewhat looked forward to being taken care of by the amazing nurses at the cancer agency every 21 days. By the same right, I am feeling thankful that I don't have to undergo anymore chemotherapy because it really does suck! I am feeling nervous, and perhaps even trepid, as I await my upcoming tests. What if the chemo didn't work? How long will I need to do radiation? What if my cancer never goes away? I haven't been thinking like this very much during the whole process, because I generally like to frame things positively, but this week is a little different. I'm sure by Monday I will be back to my usual bubbly self!

That's all I've got for now. I can't focus at the moment. If you want to see what chemotherapy does to the brain, go back and read through my blog posts from the beginning until now. The writing gets worse each time. I know things will eventually return to "normal", but I am hoping it's sooner than later because I hate not being able to express myself and communicate properly!

I will do another post sometime after September 27th when I have my test results. I promise it will be a great deal more comprehensible than this one. Oh man, am I ever going through Prednisone withdrawal today...

Thanks for reading,

Christopher

Chemo Round #5

I had my fifth round of chemotherapy this past Friday, and it went about the same as the fourth, except it only took 3.5 hours instead of 4.5 which was great. They're really pumping the juice into me now! I'm experiencing the same symptoms and side-effects as the last couple rounds, which at this point is nothing I can't handle, although it's never pleasant to drift through a weekend in a nauseated hazy-dazy state of body and mind. Right now I'm feeling about the same as this time, last round: Tired and out-of-it, constantly starving (from the Prenisone) and a little achy. For some reason today I am also feeling pretty nauseous and head-achy. There is a nasty taste in my mouth I can't get rid of.

Lots has happened between my last round of chemo and this one. I went to my parents' house in Langley for the August Long Weekend, which was nice because my brother, sister and I haven't been home together all at once in over a year and a half. It was a fairly relaxing time, aside from the house being really full of people! My brother's band, West My Friend did two shows to kick off their tour of BC as well: A ticketed one in the backyard on Thursday night, and an acoustic set on the balcony at our big family reunion BBQ on Saturday night. You can check out all my photos from the weekend here. This photo is of my brother, Jeffrey; my girlfriend, Kaitlin; me; my sister, Jean; and her fiance, Cory.

The following Saturday I photographed my first wedding (click the link for photos) and on Sunday I went to see my brother's band play at the Victoria FolkWest Festival and took some great photos of them as well. Apparently I've been taking a lot of photos!

Some sad news: My grandma had a massive stroke and passed away very unexpectedly on August 10th. It came as a shock to all of us, because she was in good health and wasn't that old yet. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but I'm thankful that I got to see her one last time at our family BBQ, and that she likely didn't suffer very much when she passed. I love you, Grandma. Your spirit will always live on in our hearts.

In happier news, Kailin and I celebrated three years together last Wednesday! We went to a really cool spot in Brentwood Bay called the Blues Bayou Cafe Waterfront Dining. The food was fantastic and I would highly recommend it to anyone. I love you so much, Kaitlin!!! Doesn't she look absolutely stunning!!?

I'm just noticing that this post doesn't have much to do with cancer. I guess that's just proof that life can continue on, if you let it. Anyway, I'm trying to fix some computer problems right now, and I need to get some chores done around the house, so I promise I will write another post within the next few days. People have been wanting me to talk about my experiences with the doctors and nurses at the BCCA, and I keep saying I will, but have been slacking off. Sorry!

In the meantime, here are three cool photos I took two nights ago at the ocean below Dallas Road, using an HDR technique. High Dynamic Range Imaging is where you take several different exposures and then layer them in Photoshop. Spending lots of time in the great outdoors and capturing beauty in this manner is excellent healing; I love breathing in the smell of the ocean and feeling the cool evening air blow over my bald head.

Thanks for reading,
Christopher

Chemo Round #4

I will begin with an apology, yet again, for taking more than two weeks to update this. I have good reason, which I will explain towards the end of this post, but for now I'll just say that the weather has been really nice in Victoria lately so I've been trying to stay off the computer and get outside as much as possible. Up until my fourth round of chemo last Friday, I had about a week-and-a-half where I felt quite healthy, with enough energy to work each day, go out with friends, exercise, and generally enjoy life to the absolute fullest, given the circumstances!

My chemo session on Friday went well, all things considered, although I was really dopey by the time it was over. I didn't get very nauseous this time though, which was nice. I learned that eating a really big meal right before (or during) chemo helps in that regard. Anyways, here are a couple photos. My sister Jean kept me company the whole time, and my friend Anja stopped by for a visit as well. I was asleep when she arrived, as you can see.

I didn't feel too bad on Saturday, but Sunday I was hit with a wrecking ball of fatigue, so I spent most of the day in a daze. Monday was about the same, but Tuesday (yesterday) I woke up and felt pretty good. In fact, I felt good enough to lift weights for 30 minutes, although by the end I was feeling very anemic and didn't do much for the rest of the day. This morning I woke up and felt like I had more energy that usual, so I went for a 25km bike ride. I covered that distance in an hour which is almost on par with what I was doing last summer when I was really in shape. Yes, this happened only five days after chemo! Exciting, hey?

I am feeling very encouraged by the fact that I have started to be able to bounce back so quickly after each round. Our family doctor told Kaitlin that the fourth round is typically where people begin to really feel the effects of the chemo-induced fatigue. That hasn't been the case with me. It seems that the more I exercise, the quicker I recover. Each round of chemo was supposed to be a little bit worse, but so far each one has been a little bit better.

My meeting with one of the oncologists last Thursday was encouraging too. I was asking about my symptoms, and if exercising has the ability to lessen them, and he told me that he had recently read some independent studies that showed people who exercised regularly while fighting cancer increased their cure rates by as high as 60%. Since my cure rate is about 50%, that means by September I will 110% cured... right!?

While all this news is great, there have been three related things that are becoming consistently getting worse: My memory, comprehension, and ability to express my thoughts. It's downright embarrassing when I have to carry on a conversation with people who don't know what's going on, because I can't stop thinking about how confused I must sound, even while engaging in small talk. This is part of the reason why I haven't sat down for awhile to write a blog post. To be sure, I tried a couple times, but I just wasn't able to get sentences out in a way that makes sense. This post is not that long, but it's taken me a couple hours to write. While I've been told that things will slowly return to normal when I'm finished chemo, I'm still worrying about it a little. It's excruciatingly frustrating to be constantly forgetting things from both my short and long term memory, and I don't want it to affect my ability to teach in the fall.

I was going to write about something else today, but speak of the devil, I forget what it was. I'm not even joking. I guess I will leave it at that for now, and when I remember, I'll write a new post.

I don't want to end on a sour note, so I'll leave you with a fun song that my friends Rebecca & John introduced me to a few minutes ago when we were talking about music for John's brother's wedding that I'll be DJ'ing in September. Apparently this dance originates in Ghana, and the song is blowing up all over the South Pacific these days. Great Summertime dance tune!

Oh! I just remembered the last thing I was going to say: If you decide to leave a comment on any of my posts, please include your NAME in it. There have been so many comments from my friend "Anonymous" lately, but it doesn't have to be that way! In the drop-down menu underneath the comment box, select the option that says "Name/URL" and just type in your name. You don't need a URL and you don't even need to put your real name; just put something so I know who you are! :)

Lastly, I promise my next post will include answers to some of the topics people suggested when I sent out a call for ideas a few weeks ago.

Thanks for reading,

Christopher

Celebrating 10,000 Views

Wow. That's about all I can say. Thank-you SO much, everyone, for your unparalleled support and love. I started this blog to keep family and close friends updated on my progress throughout this journey, so it is absolutely mind-boggling that so many people (many of whom I don't even know) are reading it. Well... unless my dad is sitting at home clicking "refresh" ... "refresh" ... "refresh" to make me feel important. But even if the 10,000 views are from ten people re-reading this a thousand times each, that is still something to be extremely thankful for. So thank-you for reading, everyone.

Tomorrow marks my halfway point. I have had three chemo treatments so far, and I have three remaining before I go to Vancouver for some tests, and am (fingers crossed) pronounced "cured" once and for all.

I have been doing really well since my last treatment. A few of the side-effects, such as the fatigue, mouth pain, and confusion, haven't been nearly as pronounced as the first two treatments. A few have been worse, such as the "puffiness" from the Prednisone, and the bone pain from the Neupogen. However, the thing that I have done best this time is to continue living my life as normally as possible. I only missed one week of work this time around, and I have been forcing myself to run, cycle, and lift weights more than I was. In fact, I managed to lift weights five days after chemo, and go for a run three days after that! Exertion has been really hard, but I think pushing myself to the point of exhaustion is actually helping to make my body fight to become stronger. I have been spending a lot of time outdoors as well.

It's been nearly a week since my last post, however; I got some really good topic suggestions via email, Facebook, and the comments section, so I will try to make time to post some answers sooner than later.

Thanks for reading,
Christopher

Blog Ideas Please!

I just wanted to write another short update for today to say that I haven't actually been feeling quite as bad during this third round of chemo, for whatever reason. Maybe it's going to just hit me late this time? As of this morning, however, the stinging mouth pains I usually experience from Days 3-7 and the confusion and tiredness that happens at the same time are pretty subdued. I've been spending a good amount of time outdoors going for walks, lying on the beach (in the shade, with a hat and sunscreen, Mom!) and eating healthy. I still can't exert myself though; I went for a 3.5km walk last night and felt quite loopy when I got home.

Aside from that, the Prenisone didn't seem to make me as grumpy this round either, but it has made me swell up quite a bit. I'm not sure if you can tell in this photo (which was me trying to win Tragically Hip tickets on "Tank Top Tuesday" from The Zone 91.3 FM)  but if you look at my arms, my normal muscle definition is pretty much gone; not from losing much of it, but from the surrounding tissue expanding. Ugh, feeling bloated is uncomfortable.

I'll finish by asking... does anyone have any ideas for my next post? Questions about the treatment or side-effects? Maybe about what's going on in my mind during this whole experience? Questions about cancer in general, or what it's like to be a patient at the BC Cancer Agency? I need some ideas, so ask me anything in the comments and I will expand upon them in my next entry!

Thanks for reading,
Christopher

Half Way There

You may notice that the frequency of my blog posts has been declining. Mostly it's because I've felt great for a week and it was sunny outside, but also because I feel like I'm started to repeat myself: Every 21 days I go for chemo, then I feel crappy for a week-and-a-half, then I feel "ok" for half a week, then I feel good for a week. Aaaaand repeat!

I went for my third round yesterday. It went fine as usual, and Kaitlin's aunt Kathy came with me which was fun because we had tons to talk about and she brought me food. Thanks Kathy!

I found this sign sitting on my chair when I got to chemo so of course we needed a photo. And for those of you who have already been confused, no, that is not puke in my lap, it's granola!

I'm not sure what changed this time, but I started to feel nauseous almost immediately after finishing the chemo. I also got knocked out pretty hard from the diphenhydramine (i.e. Benadryl - I take it to help prevent reactions from the Rituximab) so I slept all afternoon, waking up periodically and feeling like I was going to puke. I didn't though, and although I still feel really queasy right now, I think I'm going to be able to keep my breakfast down.

And thus begins my third cycle. If everything is working as it should, then I am now half way to being cured

of cancer. Keep those positive thoughts, prayers, and healing vibes coming please... I truly appreciate every single one of them!

Thanks for reading,
Christopher

                Fighting Cancer                                           My Kitchen Table is a Pharmacy

I am Not a "Cancer Patient"

I have been feeling progressively better this week, to the point where I have gone to work a couple times, and even lifted weights this morning. Here's a photo to prove it. I honestly feel really great today, aside from the return of my stomach pain, which is a little strange.

It's interesting how quickly the way I feel changes. As I mentioned in my last post, I was still feeling completely exhausted on the weekend. I also experienced some pretty persistent and intense bone pain from my Neupogen injections, which kept me awake all night on Friday and Saturday. On Sunday and Monday I felt quite anemic, to the point of feeling dizzy, extremely out of breath, and pale, as a result of even the easiest of exercises such as walking up a hill. However, on Tuesday I felt half decent, and yesterday I was well enough to go to the beach in the morning and to work in the afternoon. Yes Mom, I put lots of sunscreen on.

I am happy to be feeling this healthy again today, and satisfied that I will get a full 7 days of feeling "normal" until my next chemo session. As I was working out this morning with the music pumping, I got to thinking that I don't consider myself to be a "cancer patient." While I am undergoing some pretty intense treatments for awhile, and feel very ill for close to two weeks at a time after each session, my body and mind always return to their usual healthy state of being. Look at the photo... now back here... now back to the photo... now back here. Does that look like a "cancer patient" to you? I'm proud to be able to keep a fairly solid sense of normalcy in my life while I'm fighting this disease. Not only does it help to remove the "Big C" from "cancer", but it also enables me to enjoy what I believe is still going to be a great summer. Yes, I realize I am saying this now and will be back to moaning and groaning about how shitty I feel next weekend, but humor me here!

Have a listen to this song, "Let it Go," by Dragonette. It's a good way to describe how I'm feeling.

"We don't need a cure for the weight of the world,
'Cause its floating round in the universe,
Just swinging like its tied by a string that you hold and let it go."

Thanks for reading,
Christopher

Note To Self: Don't do Job Interviews Six Days After Chemo

Today Kaitlin reminded me that I have a blog and that I should maybe write an update. Good thing I've been taking notes each day.

On Tuesday I woke up with a stinging in my mouth and throat that made it extremely difficult to eat, drink, talk, and swallow. As you know, chemotherapy is intended to kill rapidly growing cells, i.e., cancer cells, but many good cells in the human body also divide and grow rapidly, including the cells that line the inside of the mouth. Unfortunately these healthy cells are also damaged by chemotherapy, which makes it difficult for my mouth to heal itself and to fend off germs, which can lead to sores and infections. I ended up filling my prescription from the cancer agency for magic mouthwash, so I didn't get any sores and infections, but it didn't help with the pain. In my daily log I wrote "my mouth and throat are hurting so much today that they're all I can think about."

I went to the cancer agency on Tuesday too, and the nurse taught me how to do a subcutaneous injection, in other words "stab myself with a needle." Check out my post Chemo Round #2 for more on why I now have to do this. I don't really like needles so it was hard for me to actually stick myself with one the first time. As a matter of fact, I got it about half a centimeter into my stomach, and then pulled it right back out again while exclaiming "Ouch! Why doesn't it hurt this much when you give me needles?" The nurse laughed and informed me that I went too slowly. "You're going to have to commit! Just give 'er! Jab it in there nice and fast!" she said. I did, and it was fine. Each morning since then hasn't been a problem, and today was the last day of neupogen subcutaneous injections until my next round of chemo.

I don't remember what I did on Wednesday, but I wrote the following in my daily log: "Experiencing body aches and pains today. Felt crappy, tired, and head-achy all afternoon. Mouth still hurts to the point where I cry out in pain upon drinking, eating, or yawning. Also lots of muscular jaw/facial pain."

On Thursday morning I had an interview for the TOC list with the Greater Victoria School District. Well... I was supposed to. A lady from the human resources department had called me on Tuesday to schedule the interview and I accepted it partly because I wanted to maintain the optimism that I would actually be well enough to carry through, and partly because I had already been hired as a TOC by the Sooke School District for September, and thus, what did I have to lose? Yes, I realize I have bragged about this a lot already, but come-on, it's exciting for a recent graduate such as myself!

Thursday morning rolled around however, and I wondered if it was a mistake to accept the job interview, given the intense aching pain, confusion, and exhaustion I was experiencing, never mind my increasing inability to engage in complex thought processes. I tried to call to ask if I could reschedule, but I was unable to get through, and the end result was that I some how got it into my head that I should just go for it anyways. How bad could it be, right? Well... it turns out... pretty bad.

I was led into the interview room, and after the introductions, I mentioned that I had gone through chemotherapy less than a week ago. I explained that because of this I might need to have some questions repeated, and it might take me a bit longer to process and answer them, because the side effects of chemotherapy include confusion and difficulty with thought-processes. The two interviewers were very understanding, and with that, we began.

Interviewer: "Alright Christopher, so here is the first question. Tell us about a lesson you taught that went really well, and why it was so successful."
Christopher: "One of the best lessons that I've ever taught was the first lesson in a recorder unit during my practicum last year. I.... ummm... well... I remember that I was wondering how I was going to teach recorder to a bunch of rowdy kids in grade two and three, so I called up my old elementary music teacher to ask her what she would suggest. She gave me all sorts of tips and tricks and it was so neat to talk to her. She told me to introduce the concept of.... ummm... I forget... but... ummm... the lesson went well... ummm... I love teaching music and I'm pretty experienced in it... so the lesson was pretty good... but... ummm... what was the question again?"

I don't even think I was half that eloquent.

I could feel myself starting to blush, and realized that this was all a terrible mistake. I couldn't think properly. I couldn't put sentences together. I couldn't remember the question. I couldn't understand what they were asking. I couldn't even look them in the eye. My mouth was so dry. What had happened to me!??

At this point, one of the interviewers looked up and gently said "Okay. Christopher. There's no way we are going to put you through this today. You shouldn't be here right now. When would be a good time to reschedule?"

I spent most of the rest of the day in a daze.

On Friday (yesterday) I felt a little less confused and my mouth hurt a little less, but the fatigue had really set in. I made a grocery list and went to Thrifty Foods, a mere one kilometer walk from my house. It took ten minutes to get there but once I had two loaded grocery bags it took 25 minutes to get home. Apparently I underestimated how weak my body is right now, as I had to keep sitting down on the side of the road to rest. When I got home I collapsed on the couch for half an hour. I managed to make muffins in the morning, and after napping for a couple hours and going for a walk in the afternoon, I made enchiladas for dinner.

Today I have been up and about, but my energy is sapped. I feel completely and indescribably exhausted, even just sitting on the couch typing this post. I am also starting to experience some very intense aching in my bones, mostly in my lower back. The nurse told me on Tuesday that this is a side-effect of the neupogen injections, and it means that my bone marrow is just working overtime to produce my white blood cells... so that's a good thing... but right now it feels awful.

I'm going to eat dinner now, and perhaps I will go for a short walk before an early bedtime tonight.

Thanks for reading,

Christopher

______________________________________________________________________________

One last thought before I sign off for tonight: I hope that I don't come across as pining for sympathy in these blog posts. I'm handling everything pretty well, I think, and the last thing I want is to sound like I'm saying "Look how much life sucks right now. Pay attention to meeeeeee." I haven't actually had anyone approach me with that sort of feedback, but I feel the need to mention it; I suppose as a method of maintaining my self-preservation and pride. The reason I describe my tribulations in such detail is so that hopefully I can remove some of the "mystery" of what it is like to fight cancer, because the impression I have gotten so far is that it is still an uncomfortable and unknown subject for many, many people.
______________________________________________________________________________

Brain Fuzz Dreamland

I tried to snap a nice photo of me smiling to text-message to Kaitlin to say "good luck on your toe mole removal today" but I couldn't smile because my cheeks hurt too much. I think this is the first day where I really hate cancer and really really hate the side effects of chemo. I don't even know why I'm bothering to write a blog post because I don't actually have much to say. Today just seems to be slipping me by. I feel confused, dazed, dysfunctional, dizzy, and weak. My friend Renee said "It does my heart good to hear you being a tad negative about it today, Chris. You have been so upbeat about all the sucky stuff." I suppose she's right, and it's good for me to be honest with my emotions. Today I just wish that I could feel how I did last week... healthy, fit, happy, and energetic.

I really like the band Sigur Ros, ever since my friend Kris introduced them to me perhaps six years ago. I have never looked up a translation for the lyrics so I don't know what they're actually singing about (and prefer to keep it that way) but the musicality and videography of this song seems to fit well with how I feel right now. Not negative, but rather dream-like, trudging toward a healthier tomorrow.

Chemo Hair Loss

Here is a photo as promised. I haven't been awake for very long...

My body hair has been gradually starting to thin and fall out for the last week or so, but last night it really started to come out, although interestingly enough, only on my head. I could literally pull my whiskers out with my fingernails. When I woke up this morning, most of it was on my pillow. I shaved the rest, but it wasn't really even a "shave" because the razor basically just pulled the rest of the hair out. I guess I officially look like a cancer patient now!

As I've probably mentioned at some point in my blog, chemotherapy destroys all fast-growing cells in the body, even the good ones. The whole hair-loss thing is kind of interesting because some hair cells on the body are not as "fast growing" as others I suppose. My legs and arms have yet to lose any, although they're definitely not really growing anymore, but my chest and back are getting pretty thin. I trimmed all that (and basically just shaved my back smooth) so it wouldn't make a huge mess when that hair falls out for good. I imagine it won't be very long before it follows suit with my head.

A little update for yesterday: I had a really bad sleep on Friday night and lost my stomach twice when I woke up in the morning on Saturday. I thought it was because I am no longer able to take Stemetil but it turns out that I was supposed to take one more Ondansetron before bed on Friday. I took it on Saturday morning as soon as I realized my mistake, and the nausea subsided for the rest of the day, most of which I spent sleeping, because I also took an extra-strength Gravol.

Lastly, I have grown to hate one of my chemo drugs, Prednisone. I probably mentioned all the side effects in a previous post, but they include extreme restlessness, insomnia, swollen or "puffy" cheeks & joints, and believe it or not, grumpiness. Also, I only take it for five days during each round of chemo, and coming off of it after Round #1 was a horrible experience. I hate what it does to me.

Kaitlin came over last night and for some reason we were arguing or disagreeing about something little and it just escalated and basically ruined our whole evening. I am generally the cool-headed one during arguments, but because of the Prednisone (and probably my lack of sleep and crappy day) my emotions seemed to be blown way out of proportion. I could tell what was happening in my head, but I just couldn't control it, and it was so frustrating and made me pretty upset. I could tell it was really frustrating for Kaitlin too.

Eventually Kaitlin asked what I wanted 'right now' and all I came up with was "I need to cuddle." The rest of the evening ended up okay, with my eyes closed, head in her lap, while she played with my hair... or what was left of it. I could tell she was still frustrated with me, but at least we were relaxed. Thanks for sticking it out, Kaitlin. I love you.

That is my update for Sunday morning. Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there.

Christopher

Chemo Round #2

Yesterday I went for a blood test at Jubilee Hospital in the morning, and received a call from the BC Cancer Agency in the afternoon. Apparently my neutrophils (white blood cells) were too low because the normal range is 2.5 - 7.5 and mine were at 0.25. Don't ask me what the units are, but anything below 1.0 is cause for concern. The clinic told me that I would have to go for another blood test tomorrow (this morning) and if the counts weren't higher I might have to wait to start my second treatment. I felt frustrated when I heard that, but at the same time I almost felt a sense of relief. 

I have been feeling so healthy for the last week; I had my belated birthday party BBQ in Beacon Hill Park on Saturday, I went for two 25km bike rides on Sunday and Monday, lifted weights on Saturday and Tuesday, and ran 5km on Wednesday. I also had my UVic graduation ceremony on Wednesday, and went out for dinner and drinks at the bar afterwards. So to hear "your chemo might need to wait a week" was the same as hearing "you're free to keep living your regular super awesome life for another week!" 

Unfortunately (fortunately) I ended up having my chemo today anyways. The nurse called again yesterday and told me that since my treatment is curative, not palliative, they need to stick to the schedule as closely as possible... which is good... because I really want to be cured. 

I don't actually have too much to report about the chemotherapy session today. Bugger -- I don't have any photos either! I was at the cancer agency from 12:00 until 4:15 pm and I didn't have any reactions to the drugs, which I was very happy about. Also, Kaitlin was there until 2:00, and my friend Anja visited me from 2:30 onward, so I was very well taken care of and the time passed quickly! I had a bowl of my mom's homemade granola for dinner, and went for a 30 minute walk in a somewhat successful attempt to curb the nausea that is currently creeping into my body. Here we go again. I'd give anything to feel like I did yesterday, right now.

So. Chemo lowers my white blood cell counts too much. Guess what: There's a fix for that.

Today I was given a prescription for Neupogen, which stimulates the bone marrow to make white blood cells. It's basically a man-made version of a certain natural substance found in the body, and is produced using some kind of bacteria. It is important I take this, because when my white blood counts drop too low it is very easy for me to get a bacterial infection, which can easily turn into a blood infection, which is a medical emergency. Anyways, I felt like I was transporting a bomb when I carried the Neupogen out to my car today, encased in blocks of ice. The mixture is very sensitive: It needs to be stored between 2-8° C and shaking the vials could render the entire thing useless.

Oh yeah... and five 1 mL vials costs more than $1500. Can you believe these teenie tiny vials of liquid bone marrow magic are more than $300 each!? Here's a photo of them with a penny for size comparison.

Luckily Kaitlin is the best girlfriend in the whole wide world, and she spent more than an hour on the phone with BC Pharmacare and the Victory Supportive Care Program, which means that combined with my (crappy) UVic health insurance I now have 100% coverage for this very expensive drug.

Anyways, I will be taking Neupogen for five days, starting on Day #5 of each chemo treatment, and I will need to administer it as an injection under my skin. A nurse at the cancer agency is going to teach me how to do it on Tuesday.

As for right now, I think it's time for bed. Thank-you to everyone who has been so incredibly supportive during the last month; I need to reiterate that I don't think I could stay so positive and optimistic without you. I've experienced many emotions since this whole thing started, but right now I feel very at peace. I really do believe this whole cancer thing being merely a bump in the road, and by Autumn I will be cured. I have my friends, family, and other such loved-ones to thank for affirming that.

Thanks for reading,

Christopher

Feelin' Good and Everything is Fine

My mom reminded me yesterday that I haven't updated my blog in awhile, and that I should post updates when I'm feeling good sometimes too. The title comes from this song:



Nothing really extraordinary has happened since my last post, except that I have been slowly starting to feel a lot healthier. Oh wait... I guess that is pretty exciting. Truth be told, I have not had many naps since Monday. I also managed to pull off two 30 minute workouts this week and I went into work for a couple afternoon shifts. In fact, I completely forgot about this blog because life has started to feel so normal again. It's so good to know that the chemotherapy is actually doing something!

It should be a good weekend, because two of my best friends from high school are coming from the mainland to visit me today, and I am having my belated birthday party tomorrow. 

I noticed something interesting yesterday -- my hair has stopped growing. I usually buzz my head and my facial hair with my electric razor, and shave my neck (with a hunting knife and a bar of soap) every couple days, but after 72 hours my whiskers have yet to sprout. I guess that means I'm going to start shedding pretty soon here. Mom says when I do, I should take a picture. I'm not sure if she means I should take a picture of my smooth naked body, or if she means I should snap a shot of the pile of hair on the floor, but in either case, stay tuned for something happening in fairly short order.

In a week from now I will be receiving my second round of chemotherapy, which means I will be feeling like shit again for awhile. Luckily my UVic B.Ed Convocation is three days prior, so I will be able to walk across the stage after all. Perhaps my hair will be falling out and blowing in the wind behind me?

Alright. That is my update. Sorry it is so short, but I want to go enjoy life for the next week. Take that, cancer!

Christopher

Fatigue, Random Pains, and Chemo Brain

A friend and mentor emailed me yesterday because my blog had been silent since Tuesday, and he was wondering if everything was okay. Yes, I am still alive and kickin', but the only two things I've really been able to do for the last few days are eat and sleep... and even those have been hard.

Let me explain.

I undergo chemotherapy once every 21 days (next one is June 15th) and within that time period there is a reduction in my bone marrow's production of red blood cells, immune cells, and platelets. If you were to graph it, the result would be an upside down bell-curve, with my counts returning to normal by Day 21. I'm not going to attempt to write about why/how this all works, because I still don't quite understand it (maybe Brian can do a little piece in the comments section), but ultimately low blood counts = fatigue, thin blood, and zero immunity. The latter two I will talk about in another blog post, but today I want to focus on fatigue.

Yesterday morning I woke up and had breakfast. After breakfast I had a nap, and when I woke up again, it was lunch time. I ate a grilled cheese sandwich, and by the time I had washed the dishes I was ready for another nap. My eyes opened again in the mid afternoon and I decided that it would probably be a good idea to go for a walk. Apparently the 3 km trail around Cedar Hill Golf Course was too ambitious, because when I got home I needed another nap. It was really hard to drag myself off the couch for a staff dinner downtown at 7:00, but I forced myself to go because I've been missing all my coworkers. By 9:00 I was done for the day, so I headed home and slept all night again. While this might sound like a pretty nice, lazy-sort-of-day, it wasn't. Even trying to sit up straight at the computer right now is difficult, and composing sentences is a chore.

I've been finding it hard to find words to describe the fatigue, but two appropriate choices would be "distressing" and "persistent." It's a sense of tiredness and exhaustion that is in no way proportional to my activity level. It is an ongoing lack of energy; a type of weakness or inertia that I feel throughout my whole body all the time. I slept for close to 10 hours last night, yet this morning I feel as if I have not shut my eyes in a week. Most of you will probably understand how much of a life change this is for me.

Along with the fatigue, there are the random pains. They don't seem to be caused by anything in particular, and I cannot pinpoint exactly where they are originating from, but they could be best described as aches that manifest themselves in various parts of my body (including my head) regularly throughout the day. I don't notice them as much when I'm distracted or moving around, but when I lie down to rest they really bother me.


Update for Sunday, June 3: The fatigue has subsided a little bit today, however; the aches I mentioned have increased in intensity, to the point of where they are making me absolutely miserable. Tylenol does not help, nor does keeping myself occupied.

The last ailment I want to mention is what the nurses call "Chemo Brain". While it is probably impossible to quantify, Chemo Brain is definitely a "thing." For me, it means having trouble keeping track of what I am saying, not being able to find the right words, forgetting what I came into a room for, etc. I phoned my dad the other day with a very specific question in mind, but after it rang three times I didn't remember why I was calling. Kaitlin likes to call this "Boy Brain" (ha... ha... ha...) but joking aside, this is quite a bit worse. I just feel... confused. Maybe it's a preview of senility? Chemo Brain, combined with the fatigue, has turned me into a walking zombie of sorts. During the last few days I have almost felt like I have been separated from my body; I can see myself doing things and hear myself talking, but it doesn't seem like me doing it, and none of it makes any sense.

That's all for now. The sun is peeking out from behind the clouds, and it looks like it might be a nice weekend here in Victoria. I have a wonderful life, and even though my body is going through a rough patch, it's aaaaaaaaaaaaall good. Hey -- The first person to name the book I'm referencing there, wins a prize!

Time for a nap...

Christopher

Take That, Rituximab

I went in for for my remaining 360 mL of Rituximab today at 9:00 am. After they hydrated the piss out of me with another full litre of saline drip on the IV, they started the Rituximab at 9:30. Every half an hour they increased the flow to make sure I was handling it okay. I still experienced the same symptoms as yesterday - burning in my sinuses and stinging in my mouth/throat - but I kept myself occupied so I could just power through it. I finished at 2:30. Currently I am feeling a little bit green, but hey - no pain, no gain, right!?

Thanks again to my beautiful girlfriend Kaitlin for coming with me. Babe, this whole thing would be a thousand times harder without you by my side! Also thanks to my brother Jeffrey for popping in to keep me company for the last hour while Kaitlin went to work. Take a look at that picture - he even wore a suit for the occasion!

Aside from today's adventure, I'm starting to experience some of the side effects of the chemo. My fingers feel so weird and numb today, and it's been a little bit hard to use them. For example, Kaitlin brought some blueberries to share and she had to actually pick them up and place them in my hand for me a couple times. And when I touch the palm of one hand with the fingers of the other, it's the strangest sensation. It feels almost like I'm touching someone else's hand! I think I'm also starting to experience what they call "chemo brain". It seems like it's harder to focus and concentrate, and I'm also finding myself forgetting things that I shouldn't be forgetting. Crap... I was going to write something else here but now I don't remember what it was...

That's about all for today's post. It was a pretty uneventful visit today, but hey, I made it through my first round of chemo, so that's good! I'll probably post in a few days when I start experiencing more side effects such as my hair falling out.

Thanks for reading,
Christopher

Chemo Frustrations

Today I went in for Part II of my first round of chemotherapy. The reason I had to spread the chemo over two days is because the Rituximab is known to cause reactions, so the first time they administer it separately and slowly so they can monitor how my body is able to handle it. This photo is how I felt at the beginning. It is not how I feel right now. I was supposed to start at noon today, but just like Friday they were running behind. By the time I got into a chair and consumed one litre of a saline drip IV, it was getting close to 3:00 pm.

The Rituximab was fine at the beginning, but as they increased the speed of it, I started to have a bit of a reaction. My sinuses, eyes, nose, and throat felt like they were burning and it was hard to swallow. My breathing and heart rate were both fine, however.

I let the nurse know what was going on, and I was given an injection of Benadryl. Then she went away, and after quite some time she came back with the oncologist who said I was going to have to stop for now and come in tomorrow to do it all over again because patients need to be out of the agency by 6:00 pm and I wouldn't be finished by then.

I am extremely frustrated because another nurse had commented a few days ago about how I should try to get in earlier than noon because of how long the Rituximab can take. I took her advice and asked about it at my first chemo appointment, but was told that there was no room for me to come in earlier. I'm not sure why they would start me so late when they know it can take up to 8 hours to administer the Rituximab due to adverse reactions.

Now I have to do the whole bloody thing again tomorrow, but this time, starting at 9:00 am. I know I need to roll with the punches, but I'm pretty pissed off right now. Why didn't they schedule me to come in earlier today!??

The one cool thing is that they left the IV in my arm so they don't have to set it all up again tomorrow.

Christopher

A Ride in an Ambulance to the Emergency Room: The Scariest Night of my Life

Last night I went to Kaitlin's for our weekly "Sunday Night Dinner" with her parents. We had the usual fare; roast beef, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. Everything was great as usual, and my stomach didn't bother me at all when I ate, which is fantastic progress from half a week ago.

We were all just sitting around the table after we had eaten, and I was anticipating the belated birthday cake that Kaitlin's dad had made, when all of a sudden I noticed it was becoming slightly difficult to talk. It felt like a muscle had seized up in my neck; my lower jaw kept tensing and pulling backwards and to the right. I told Kaitlin and her parents that something was going on, and then I got up and walked around the living room trying to relax and get rid of the "charlie horse" feeling.

Unfortunately it seemed like it was getting worse, so I phoned my mom to ask her advice. I guess my speech was becoming noticeably slurred because my mom didn't waste any time in telling me to get off the phone with her and call 911. Hearing that really scared me, because I thought that maybe I was just having one of those muscle spasms that would relieve itself in a few minutes. I went to tell Kaitlin what Mom said, but we decided it would probably be fine if she drove me to the hospital instead of calling an ambulance. That was short-lived however, as the pain and tensing feeling began to work its way around behind my head, down my neck, and into my shoulders and upper back. Kaitlin's mom called 911, and I went to lie down on the couch; the seizing pain getting worse and worse.

The ambulance arrived in less than three minutes and two paramedics came into the house to check my vital signs, and ask what was going on. By this time the muscle seizing had become so bad that I could not even talk properly, so it was really frustrating to try to answer their questions, and I had to motion to Kaitlin to help me answer them. After checking to make sure my heart rate and breathing were, as of yet, unaffected, the paramedic said "well, there's not much we can do at this point except offer you a ride to the hospital." Kaitlin and I followed them out to the ambulance while Kaitlin's dad got in his car and raced to my house to get all my medications and cancer binder with the plan of meeting us at the hospital.

The ride in the ambulance seemed to take an eternity. The paramedic sitting in the back with me was really friendly, but that became an annoyance because I was finding it nearly impossible to talk by this point, and I had to tell him I wasn't going to be able to hold up my side of the conversation. 

We arrived at Royal Jubilee Hospital in about 12-15 minutes, and I was escorted into the emergency ward reception area where Kaitlin's dad was waiting with all my stuff. After answering a bunch of questions about what was going on, they brought me into one of the rooms and a nurse began checking my vital signs, and asking me to describe, as best I could, what was going on. By this point I was hunched over and my jaw was permanently pulled back and to the right, so I sounded and looked like I was having a stroke or something. Kaitlin's dad called me Quasimodo.

After being checked out by a doctor, I was told to hang in there for a bit, as they needed to wait for a specific drug to arrive from the pharmacy. I sat on the chair shortly, and then went to lie on the gurney in hopes that getting off my feet might help to relax my spasm-inflicted muscles.

During this time Kaitlin talked to my mom again, who diagnosed the problem over the phone: She believed that I was having some kind of reaction to one of my anti-nausea medications, Prochlorperazin (Stemetil). Click that link to Wikipedia and scroll down the page to "side effects" for a pretty good description of what happened to me. The doctor came back a few minutes later to check on me and was very impressed, in his words, that "a pediatrician is able to make a diagnosis over the phone like that." You rock, Mom. She was correct though, of course; the doctor agreed that it was some kind of "lock jaw" reaction. Within a few minutes the nurse was giving me a needle and saying I should be feeling better within 20 minutes. As I lay on the gurney, Kaitlin sat beside me and rubbed my back and shoulders in a somewhat successful attempt to relax me.

It took closer to half an hour I think, but the muscle spasms slowly-but-surely subsided, and I was able to sit up and talk normally again. The only thing that was left was a great deal of tightness in my back and shoulders, and a couple of terribly shaking hands. After getting some pills and instructions from the doctor, we were able to leave, and Kaitlin's dad drove us back home.

As I am writing this, my hands are still shaking thinking about how indescribably scared I was last night. I am not exaggerating with the title of this blog post even in the slightest. I have never felt so completely powerless in my own body; so weak and so out of control. There are tears welling up in my eyes as I think about how worried I know I made Kaitlin, my parents, and her parents, and I am truly sorry that they had to be put through something like that with me. I know that there is nothing I could have done, so an apology is unwarranted, but I still feel bad about the whole thing.

So that was my Sunday Night Dinner Adventure for May 27th, 2012. I am going for Part II of my first chemo treatment at noon today, so if anything eventful happens this afternoon I will blog about it tonight or tomorrow.

Thanks for reading, and again, I'm sorry to those of you closest to me for having put you through such an ordeal. I definitely won't be taking Stemetil ever again.

Christopher

Post Chemo Breakfast

This is just going to be a short post, but I thought I'd write it anyways because I love food and maybe someone else will see it and think "hmmm, maybe I'll try this for breakfast too!" Today I am getting waves of nausea from the chemotherapy, but the most important thing aside from my anti nausea medications is to keep hydrated and keep eating. So here is my post-chemo breakfast: Combine 1/2 cup each of orange slices, banana, frozen blueberries, vanilla soy milk, and yogurt in a blender. Mix until smooth. Enjoy this alongside an English muffin topped with peanut butter homemade strawberry jam & cheese. It seems to be sitting well right now, and it also filled me up pretty good, which is weird because usually at this time of day I could eat a cow! ~ Chris

Radioactive Man

I had my first chemotherapy appointment from 2:30 - 5:30 today. The nurse went over everything with Kaitlin and me, and once I was comfortable she set up the IV line and started the first drug, which was bright red. Guess what colour my pee was, 30 minutes later? Wrong... it was fluorescent orange. I thought that was pretty cool, but Kaitlin just shook her head and snickered at me. I guess she doesn't appreciate the finer things in life... like highlighter orange pee? Ah, but I love her so much! Anyways, the syringe I'm holding in this photo is that first drug, Doxorubicin. After the nurse administered it to me manually, she hooked up three other bags to my IV line - Cyclophosphamide, Vincristine and a saline drip to keep me hydrated. The Vincristine was weird, because it made me feel like my sinuses were kind of aching and burning. Apparently that is quite normal!

Anyways, once the other drugs got started, I pulled out my camera and asked the nurse to take a photo of us. Another nurse overheard, and said (very loudly) "Awwwwwwwww that's so CUTE!! This must be your first chemo appointment!! Awwwww look at you two!!" to which all the (old) people in the room laughed. Then they noticed that Kaitlin and I were (accidentally) wearing matching clothes, and the whole thing just got worse. I don't know why, but this often happens to us... we meet to go out somewhere and we're dressed the same. I swear we don't plan it!

Kaitlin and I just sat around for the first couple hours of the treatment. We talked and held hands a little, I played on my phone, and she read a book. During the last 45 minutes of the session, we watched Season I, Episode I of the TV show 24 on the portable DVD player that she got me for my birthday, which was pretty cool. Everyone there was really friendly, and all-in-all it wasn't a horrible experience.

About an hour after the session, I started to feel pretty tired, and after a small dinner, I could really start to feel the nausea kicking in. I'm on three different anti-nausea medications right now and I can tell that they're fighting it, but it's a really fine line. I hope this passes soon.

Another interesting thing is that when Kaitlin kissed me this evening, she made a "ewww something's weird" face each time, and said that she could taste the chemo on my breath. She said it wasn't bad breath, per se, but it tasted like chemicals. That's a little creepy, but to be expected I suppose. That, along with the fluorescent orange pee, and you might as well start calling me Radioactive Man.

I think that's all I'm going to write for now, because I'm exhausted and starting to ramble. In the time that it's taken me to write this I've started to really feel icky, and I'm starting to fade, so I guess I'll concede and call it a day. Maybe I'll write more tomorrow. I guess I can be proud of the fact that I made it through my first chemo treatment ever, and while I still have a long road ahead, it feels good to know that this it the beginning of the end of my cancer.

On Monday I will be going in to the cancer agency for the second half of Round #1, because they still have to give me the Rituximab. Apparently people can have quite adverse reactions to this drug, so the first time they'll administer it separately and slowly, i.e. over 5-8 hours. If it goes well, then my remaining chemo treatments will be 3 hours long, and I will take all the CHOP-R drugs at once.

One more thing: The doctor called tonight with the bone marrow biopsy results. The cancer has not spread to my blood, so it is basically localized to my anterior mediastinum and my abdomen. That is good, I'd say!

Thanks again for reading.

Peace & Love,
Christopher

Birthday Biopsy & Endoscopy

Today I spent my 27th birthday in the hospital. Literally... all... day.

This morning I went for my bone marrow biopsy, so they can test to see if the cancer has spread to my blood. The reason they do this is because it helps them to determine the "stage" of the cancer, i.e. if it's either I, II, III or IV. Obviously a lower stage is better because it means the cancer is still localized to my anterior mediastinum.

The doctor and the hematology lab technician were both friendly. I told them it was my birthday and asked if Kaitlin could maybe take some pictures of the procedure for me. They lab tech said he had heard weirder requests in his time, and that we could totally take pictures if we wanted. He told us that one time a woman came in for a biopsy and she insisted on playing a musical instrument during her procedure, and then she and her friend sang together in harmony. Say whaaaaaaat?

The procedure itself only took a few minutes. Basically the doctor froze the skin above my back pelvic bone. He then stuck a hollow needle the size of a screw driver into me. It didn't hurt too much, but it was a weird, unnerving feeling because he had to use a lot of force to actually push it into the bone. The only part that really hurt was when he sucked out the sample of bone marrow: I would equate it to the feeling of having a loose tooth that isn't quite ready, and somebody yanking on it as hard as they can. The excruciating pain only lasted a 3-4 seconds though.

The really funny thing was that when the doctor found out I wanted some photos, he said "great, I can use them when I teach my med students!" Consequently, he kept stopping the procedure to say "okay Kaitlin, come over and get a picture of this part. Oh... no... actually get it from this angle... here... yeah... right there... perfect!" Anyways, click on the photos to the right if you wanna get in nice and close!

My second birthday present was an afternoon trip to the ambulatory care centre for an endoscopy. The reason I needed to have this procedure is because I've been having really bad stomach pain for several weeks and my oncologist wanted to see if it was from an ulcer, or if the cancer had spread to my stomach. The procedure was supposed to be at 2:00 pm but one of the doctors was away sick so it actually ended up being way later. I got put on a gurney at 2:30 or so, and was hooked up to an IV line with a saline drip. I had to lie there and wait until 4:15 to have the procedure, which sucked, because I hadn't been allowed to eat since midnight and I was tired, starving, and bored; the latter because Kaitlin wasn't able to book work off in the afternoon so I didn't really have anyone to keep me company. I got the nurse to take my photo and she said, jokingly, "You look way too happy for what we are about to do to you!"

Eventually (after I sneaked in a 30 minute nap) they wheeled me into the operating room and the procedure finally got underway. They sprayed some NASTY tasting stuff into the back of my mouth to numb my throat and subdue my gag reflexes. It tasted like the world's worst cough medicine and really stung. Then the nurse put a sedative into my IV line so I would relax. Once all was ready, the doctor put a long tube with a camera and a light into my mouth and said "swallow" ... gag gag gag ... once the tube was on it's way down my throat it wasn't too bad though. The whole thing took about 20 minutes and when it was over I got wheeled back out and once I was more coherent, the doctor came to talk to me about what he had seen.


Unfortunately the endoscopy showed that the cancer has spread to my stomach. The circled part of the photo is cancer, and the white part on top of the lump is an ulcer, which explains the pain I've been having. While it is bad news that my lymphoma is spreading to other parts of my body, there isn't really much else that they can do about it at this point. My chemotherapy treatment will still start on Friday, and will still be the same regiment as previously mentioned.

Anyways... thanks for reading, and stay tuned for my next post which will probably be on Friday.

Namaste,
Christopher

The Adventure Begins

On May 11th, 2012 I was diagnosed with a type of cancer called Mediastinal (Thymic) Large B-Cell Lymphoma. Here's the back story:

In February 2012 I began to develop chest pain and a pretty bad barking cough. After a few days I went to a walk-in clinic and they gave me a prescription for the antibiotic Biaxin (Clarithromycin) to go along with the diagnosis of bronchitis. PS: If you go to any walk-in clinic with a barking cough, this is what they will do. I probably had a virus, so the cough eventually subsided, but never really went away. I also began to develop a wheeze whenever I exerted myself cardiovascularly. This was really frustrating because it forced me to stop exercising. In a typical week I will do a 5 km run 3-5 times, do weight training 3 times, and when the weather is nice I will often go out on the weekend for a fast-paced 25-50 km ride on my road bike.

Near the end of March, the cough started to get worse, and began to interfere with my normal day-to-day activities. I was on my final teaching practicum as part of the UVic Bachelor of Education program, and I had to take several days off because I was unable to speak more than a few words without going into a spastic coughing fit. 

On March 25th, I went back to a walk-in clinic and told them what was happening. Thankfully the doctor took a blood-oxygen level reading, and noticing it was low, sent me for a chest x-ray. It took me a few days to get around to it, but on March 28th I went in for one. My phone rang two hours after I got home. It was the clinic telling me that I needed to come in for an urgent appointment After sitting me down and making some frustrating small-talk, the doctor told me that the x-ray results showed I had a large mass on my anterior mediastinum, most suggestive of Lymphoma. He had already sent an priority request for a chest CT scan, blood work, and an ultrasound, and had referred me to a cardiothoracic surgeon here in Victoria.

On March 30th I had my CT scan at Saanich Peninsula Hospital. The results showed a large anterior mediastinal mass, measuring 13cm x 9cm x 7cm, "most suggestive" of a germ cell tumor.

About a week after getting these results I had my first appointment with the cardiothoracic surgeon. He was really nice, and said that he had requested a CT Guided Core Needle Biopsy of the mass at Royal Jubilee Hospital. This is so that he would be able to determine exactly what was going on with the mass, such as if it was benign or malignant.

It took several weeks to get my biopsy, but on April 20th I was jabbed 7 times with a long hollow needle, and they sucked out some samples of the mass.

Eleven days later I got a call from the cardiothoracic surgeon. He was extremely apologetic, informing me that the Radiologist and Pathologist at the hospital had, for reasons unknown to him, elected to perform a Fine Needle Aspiration instead of the biopsy he had asked for, and because of this he had not gotten the results he needed. Needless to say, my parents, Kaitlin (my girlfriend) and I were extremely frustrated and angered by this, so after some swift and strongly-worded communication with the hospital, I was scheduled for another biopsy two days later, on May 4th.

I should note that during these past few weeks my cough had gotten worse, and I was becoming progressively more fatigued. I was unable to work more than 10 hours per week, and as much as I tried to get outdoors and engage in mild exercise, I actually had to spend a great deal of my time sleeping. I also developed an excruciating stomach problem during this time, which made eating and drinking extremely painful.

On Friday, May 11th, I returned to the cardiothoracic surgeon for my biopsy follow-up appointment, and was informed that I had a subtype of Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma, called Mediastinal (Thymic) Large B-Cell Lymphoma. Since then, there has been some debate as to whether I actually have the subtype, or just Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma, but that will be determined after I undergo a few more tests. 

I was referred to the BC Cancer Agency and on Thursday, May 17th, I had my first appointment with my oncologist. Sitting there with my parents and Kaitlin, being told all the details of my cancer, and treatment, was an extreme informational and emotional overload, to say the least. My type of cancer spreads quite quickly, and so the speed of which things are happening now is way faster than before, which is somewhat of a relief. I was immediately put on several drugs: 

• Prednisone - This is a very commonly-prescribed anti-inflammatory. It will begin to break down my tumor and fight the cancer. Common side effects are hyperactivity, trouble sleeping, grumpiness, and puffy cheeks & joints. So far it's just preventing me from sleeping at night.
• Allopurinol - This is to protect my kidneys from the cancer cell waste (uric acid) that the Prednisone creates.
• Pantoprazole - This is for my stomach pain. Apparently I may have an ulcer.
• Septra - This is to protect my body from a specific type of pneumonia or something.

I was also booked into the hospital on May 22nd (my birthday) for a bone marrow biopsy in the morning to see if the cancer has spread to my blood, and a gastroscopy in the afternoon to see if the cancer has spread to my stomach. I think my 27th birthday "party" is going to be the best one yet: Nothing beats having bone marrow drilled out of my hip, and then having a long tube with a camera on it shoved down my throat into my stomach! Oh well... all I can do is keep my fingers crossed that these tests will show that the cancer has not spread yet. The less it has spread, the better!

I have been scheduled to start my chemotherapy on May 25th. The kind of chemo I'm doing is called CHOP-R. Click on that link to see the exact same information booklet that I got from the BC Cancer Agency. Basically I will go in every 21 days and get hooked up to an IV line for a few hours. I will undergo six rounds of chemo over the next few months, and at the end of it I will be tested to see if the cancer is gone. If it is, the chance of it coming back is less than 10%. If it isn't gone, I will undergo more chemo, and begin radiation treatments.

Some of the common side effects of my chemotherapy are progressively worsening fatigue, full hair loss, and becoming very prone to infections. My immune system will be completely destroyed by the chemotherapy, so any sort of infection can be quite dangerous. A cold or a cut can quickly spread to my blood, so at the first sign of fever, I would have to go to the emergency room at the hospital. Scroll down to Page #3 of this CHOP-R booklet to read all about the other exciting possible side effects.

I think one of the hardest parts so far has been that my lifestyle has completely changed. As previously mentioned, I am normally an extremely active person, but have had to give most of this up. As I also mentioned, I recently finished my teaching degree at UVic. One month after I finished practicum I was hired onto the TOC list in SD62 (Sooke). Unfortunately, now I don't think I'll actually be able to do any teaching until the fall, and I was really looking forward to getting started in June!

So... that is pretty much everything up until the present time! I think this first post will probably be the longest, because so much has happened in the last couple months. From now on I will just post each time something interesting or significant happens; such as when I go for chemo, and when my hair all falls out, and that sort of thing. If you want even more details about what's happened so far, just send me a message. There's always more to say, but this post is getting just a little long.

I would like to finish off by saying that I have so far maintained a very positive outlook. I have very high hopes for beating this cancer. I am also doing my best to look forward, and get over the frustrations that it has been nearly two months since I got an x-ray that showed I have a very fast-spreading cancer, and I am only starting treatment now. I am indescribably thankful for all the support I have received from my parents, Kaitlin, family members (from both families), and friends. I am in awe at how many people have approached me to say "I know someone with cancer" or "I have cancer too" and "we are all here for you no matter what you need." Obviously this whole experience has been extremely trying, and I don't know where I would be without the support of those who care about me. I know I have some really difficult times ahead of me, and it is comforting to know that I will not be tackling them alone. 

Lastly, if you don't know why you are here reading this, please check out this page. Feel free to leave comments on my posts too... it keeps this whole thing alive and vibrant! More posts to come :)

Thanks for reading,

Christopher