VLog: August 13, 2023
At the Big Chute Marine Railway, acomplishing things from my todo list
At the Big Chute Marine Railway, acomplishing things from my todo list
First time I mention the project you're reading right now
What my prognosis means, explained with geese
Its biopsy anniversary day!
Another nothing day
Recovery is still so, so slow (again)
Last Thursday, the 3rd, I met with my oncologist to plan when I'd restart treatment. My blood counts have never been particularly useful (even though I have advanced disease, they've never been above the cutoff point where we'd start to worry about them), but they're still lower than when I started treatment a year ago. The CT scan showed no new tumors in the scan area (I think head and legs are outside, and we know the pelvic area isn't imagable), including in lungs, liver, and bones. The existing appendix tumor remains, but is still around the size it was. It's difficult to image the diffuse tumor on the fatty layer that protects the abdominal organs, so there are still unknowns, but we've decided to delay our decision for a few months. This means they in late September and early October, I'll be doing the same round of tests again to see if I need treatment then. This is fantastic news for my incision, which will get the time to heal properly for sure now.
Over the weekend my partner and I traveled to Elliot Lake to attend a family reunion/baby shower in Espanola. Nearly everyone was there, including the enormous and adorable baby, and it was a fantastic time. I didn't realize how much more recovery I had to do, though, I've never been so tired from sitting in the shade all day.
This need for further recovery was repeated Sunday, when my partner and one or my brothers had a tourist day in and around Elliot Lake, and Monday at Science North. Eight months of treatment that saps your strength, followed by a surgery that steals your endurance, and two months of lying around trying not to harm an incision take nearly everything out of you. At least I have two more months to recover.
James Petrosky: Anyways, this trip crossed The Atom, three trading posts and Science North off my todo list (which is a physical list on real paper in an actual notebook now (it has a dog in a doughnut on the cover). Meeting the baby was the purpose of the trip, but some light multitasking is good
I did not hold the baby because I was exhausted by the time I arrived and he likes to kick, which would have been bad for my incision. I hope I'll be able to rectify this soon
James Petrosky: I forgot to include the best dinosaur 😮
Recovery is still so, so slow (featuring the noisy cricket)
I'm very tired from the weekend's activities
Back in Northern Ontario for a baby shower/family reunion. Also, today is another anniversary.
Still excited about the good news
Good news from the oncologist
On the second of August, 2022, I learned that I had cancer. Its now the second of August, 2023, and I'm throwing my First Cancerversary party. A Cancerversary marks an important date in the progression of your illness, good or bad. Starting treatment, a surgical date, the date you went into remission, or the date the cancer came back are all things I think we should be celebrating. Not because a bad thing happened to us, but because we are still here to experience it.
My 1st Cancerversary is a celebration of joy, life and survival (with a touch of death thrown in as a treat for me).
There is a diary post to go with this video.
Why I have so many Squishmallows, also its my Cancerversary! I made a video, too.
One year ago today, I recieved a somewhat unexpected call from a surgian I'd been seeing about a mysterious, but monstrous, pain I'd been having on the right side of my abdomen. She had figured out the likely cause of my pain. It was cancer. I don't remember much else about that day, don't remember when doctors started using phrases like "stage four" and "high grade". I know that instead of waiting weeks for an ultrasound and months for a CT scan like I had for the diagnostic stage, I had both scheduled by the morning of the 5th to confirm what we now all feared to be true. August 2nd of that year was one of the worst days of my life (September 2nd of that year, when I first met my oncologist is also pretty bad, and June 9th of this year is worse).
August 2nd, 2023 is not like 2022. I've come much too far, underwent way too many unpleasant, painful and nauseating procedures, for that. I'm not here to tell a story I've already told, to dwell in much worse times. We're here to continue our stories. To live, be joyful, experience whimsy, to pet cats. To live in the best way the fates allow.
August 2nd, 2023 is my First Cancerversary. It's an idea that's been rattling around in my head since late June that was as fun to do as I hoped it might be. It's a celebration of life, of survival, and of joy. With the surgical recovery and a few other things going on in my life, I couldn't have a real party with human guests. But I've got big ideas for next year, because birthdays may feel less impressive and meaningful every year (they aren't though), marking time with cancer becomes exponentially more important and noteworthy with every passing year.
I don't want anyone to think this is just making the best of a bad situation, or that I'm putting on a smiling mask, or anything like that. I am genuinely joyous and excited about this. I did originally intend it as more of a silly joke than where I ended up, which is physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted after two long days of work. I'm left with a bittersweet feeling, which feels right, and feeling anything after over a decade of mental health struggles is fantastic.
James Petrosky: Part of the reason this took so long is that there's a video, too. I'm happy with the result. I've been making short daily videos for a few weeks now, too. It's nice to have something to pass the time.
I have a surprise for you tomorrow tomorrow :)
This is not about medicine as a discipline, talk to your medical oncologist for that. This is about how I relate to my treatment, and how that has changed as I've received it, and as the purpose of that treatment has changed.
I've been off chemotherapy for nearly four months, and my treatment plan calls for three month courses of chemo followed by three month breaks to recover. My break was longer because I had done eight months of chemo and then had HIPEC surgery to recover from.
It's now time to plan the next six cycle course of treatment.
I did my chemo bloodwork! The goose video is here
I only stopped wearing masks in June of this year (and I'll start again soon)