The Break That Really Wasn't

As previously mentioned, my next chemo infusion got pushed ahead to August 6 so that I could get two weeks of radiation treatments to my hips. Those treatments were described to me in the mildest terms aside from warning me that I would probably feel more fatigued toward the end. I was looking forward to another chemo break where I would feel well enough to get outside more and do a few things.

Unfortunately, while I might be over the worst of the chemo side-effects at this point, the radiation treatments are still keeping me down.

Not only did the radiation start to increase my fatigue after only one week of treatments, but they've also caused my legs and hips to feel as though I've done too much... without actually having done much at all. Right now, almost constantly, I feel like I'm suffering the effects of taking a really long, strenuous hike up a mountain. This despite not being able to even walk a mile at any point during the last six or seven months.

You know that feeling when you encounter really crappy weather during a planned vacation? It's kind of like that right now. I am definitely feeling a break from the hellish side-effects of chemotherapy, but I'm still couch-bound from the side-effects of the radiation I'm getting.

Church

I was having a conversation with a dear old friend, recently, and we hit upon some things I wanted to add to this journal.

Although I was raised in a Christian family, I have been an atheist for many years now. Probably decades. However, I often tell people that nature is my church. I never feel more at peace than I do when I'm out in nature. The weight of the world just lifts away every time, effortlessly. This is why so many of my journal entries have made it seem like all I'd really like to do is spend more time outside.

Music can do the same thing, if I fully give in to it. What I mean by that is distracting myself from either of those pleasures by doing things on my phone or computer (for example) means that I'm not being fully present in the moment. For any of this to "work" you have to be willing to cast off the distractions and just be.

If I adhere to any set of "conventional" beliefs, it's that of Taoism and Zen Buddhism, which I discovered in college back in the 80s. A cornerstone tenet of these is the desire to live in the present moment; that worry (future) and regret (past) are counterproductive to happiness and can even be destructive. Nature and music both put me firmly in the present moment without much mental effort on my part. They make it easy. I love that about them.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

All that said, many people who do adhere to a religion have wished me well and have told me they will pray for me. My atheism does not render any of those kind thoughts null and void. As far as I'm concerned, there is no wrong way to wish someone well. Anyone who offers to pray for me is being as kind to me, within their own beliefs, as anyone wishing me well in more non-religious ways. Love is love. Kindness is kindness.

Half Full or Half Empty?

We are officially "half way through" this horrid chemotherapy - three weeks after my third (of six) infusions of Docetaxel. I really resisted saying that I was "half way through" right after I had the third infusion because the infusion itself is the easy part! It's what happens in the ten days to two weeks after the infusion that puts me through a kind of living hell. 

Now, three weeks after an infusion, I'm still weak and tire easily, but I feel so much more human. At about this time in each round, I start forgetting where I left my cane because I just don't need it as much. Taking showers doesn't feel like I've just run a marathon. I have enough energy that I can help with things like dishes, laundry, etc. I'm able to back off with the oxycodone at night because gummies alone (sometimes with a couple ibuprofen) get me settled, comfy and relaxed. 

In other news, I was recently informed that my PSA (Prostate Specific Antigen) is now down to 1.3. It's the main indicator of prostate cancer and "normal" for men my age is anything under 4. Not only am I thrilled to now be well within the normal range but I keep remembering that my PSA was once over 100. My treatments are definitely working. 

Although I've only had two radiation treatments for my hips so far, I'm grateful that the treatments are quick, easy, and completely painless. I did notice a leeetle beeet of tenderness in my left hip the afternoon/evening of the first zapping, but it felt pretty normal in the afternoon/evening of the second one. No sign of Superhero or even Supervillain powers so far.

Hoping to Become a Superhero

 It looks like I'm taking a short break from chemo whether I wanted to or not.

After weeks of waiting for my health insurance to cover a short regimen of radiation to my hips, the approval finally came through. We visited the Beloit Cancer Center today for a kind of scanning/targeting appointment. Starting tomorrow and for the next ten working days, I'm going to receive brief radiation treatments. The radiation oncologist conferred with my oncologist and it was decided that they don't want me to have any chemo treatments while I'm receiving radiation. I'm definitely okay with that. 

I think I mentioned in a previous post how we had moved my next chemo from 7/23 to 7/30 to give myself four weeks before the next infusion. This new schedule of radiation treatments will end on 7/31, so my next chemo infusion has now been bumped from 7/30 to 8/6, giving me five weeks before my next infusion. 

How did this short radiation treatment come about?

Early on in this journal, I mentioned that the cancer had spread to my hips, spine, and a couple other places. I already had some slight bursitis in my hips, but the cancer attacking them made them hurt much, much more. My need for a cane to get around or for oxycodone to help me sleep at night were both largely due to how bad my hips were feeling. The palliative care specialist that we've been working with suggested that a short regiment of radiation to my hips should relieve a lot of that discomfort. I was all for alleviating that pain, so here we are.

Since many a superhero story starts with the protagonist getting irradiated, I'm looking at the next ten days as having ten chances to become a superhero. I'll be sure to write about any progress made in that direction.

I'm no doctor, but...

I'm no doctor, but my speculation about this round would appear to be correct. I'm still in the throes of the "very bad days" and, to me, they seem much more like how I felt during the first round than the second one. I can barely put into words how horrible I feel right now, and it's been this way since at least Thursday.

The big difference, as far as I'm concerned, was jumping right back into chemo after three weeks instead of waiting at least one more. (My body had five weeks to bring itself back to some sense of normal before my second round. See previous post.) I've decided that's going to change, going forward. I'm calling this particular shot, so to speak.

We've got two weeks of radiation treatments tentatively scheduled for my hip pain, and the doctors agree that they don't want that to happen while I'm at my chemo worst. If we can start those during what would be my third week of this round, the two week course of radiation would push my next infusion out to a fourth week. That should help. 

We tried to firm the radiation plans up this week but, with the 4th of July falling on Thursday and no one working at the Cancer Center on Friday, we won't know if we can work this out until we make some calls on Monday. Ideally, we'd like to start the radiation treatments around July 15, pushing the next chemo infusion from July 23 to July 30. If that doesn't work, I'm certainly not opposed to pushing it out yet another week. 

Regardless, I'm no longer going to do any chemo more frequently than once a month. When we had to postpone for a couple weeks before my second round, my oncologist kept saying that a week here or there wasn't going to make that big a difference. I plan to remind him of that. I need that extra week to help me survive the week from hell that hits me shortly after infusion.

Dancing With A Fallacy

After reasonable blood test results on Monday (yesterday) we were 'on' for my third chemotherapy infusion today. Thankfully, it went without a hitch. 

However, I want to point out, for reasons that will be more obvious in just a couple seconds, that it was five weeks between my first and second infusion whereas it was only three weeks between my second infusion and third one. I've been scheduled to have them every three weeks, but we delayed the second infusion for one and then eventually two weeks. 

The reason for the emphasis on the gap in time here is that I started to feel something unpleasant today, after we got home from the infusion, through the late afternoon and into the evening. It was pretty low level but, again, I've never (okay, yeah, in only two rounds so far) had any kind of reaction the same day as the infusion! I had this "chemo vacation" that created a five week gap between infusions. This gave my body time to clear more Docetaxel from my system, so that my second round seemed less intense.

The problem with my hypothesis is that, if correct, it could imply that an only three week gap now will lead to a more intense third round. Okay, okay... logically, I'm dancing with the fallacy of the inverse here. (Shout out to my fellow math nerds!) I used the word "could" just above because if a longer gap leads to a less intense round, it's not necessarily true that a shorter gap will lead to a more intense round. 

...not necessarily true...

It doesn't rule it out, either! 

Time will tell, I suppose. 

Meanwhile, I apologize for bringing the math nerd in me out to dance!

One of my gummies had kicked in when I wrote this. 

I might delete it if it doesn't make sense to me in the morning.

Anyway, we're off again. 

Stay tuned for more of the "adventure".