the enemy returns: a battle with kidney cancer

Time to write

June 30, 2009 · 2 Comments

It’s been a while since posting so I thought I would take a few moments to catch up on the latest.

I had my brain MRI last week here in Exeter and they called me with the good news: No lesions, no issues, no hematoma. Everything has resolved and I am good to go. Dr. Cho and the team seem to think it is ‘highly unlikely’ that another met would wind up on my brain again so we’ll see about a date for another MRI in the future. Although to be honest, ‘highly unlikely’ means very little to me. Their numbers have all gone out the window with my personal situation.

I’ve made some ‘cancer friends’ during this whole process, people who are going through what I am experiencing, who really understand what is at stake and what it feels like to live life in between scans. One good friend, Manuel, had his scan results meeting yesterday and his largest lung tumor actually had some growth. I empathize with him completely. While feeling bad about his situation, I naturally thought “what do I do if this happens to me?” I had some cancer dreams last night and one of them included him, I think. In any event, he has been battling kidney cancer for a couple of years now and his story is a good one: Inspirational, funny, moving.

Another friend is a woman named Rebecca who lives a few miles from me who underwent IL2 treatment at Beth Israel the same time I did. She suffers from melanoma, is young, and can actually *feel* her tumors (and is driven insane by that fact.) I can’t even begin to imagine what that must be like. She has her scan results meeting today at 3 and I am sending her all the best thoughts that I can. We all hope and wish for shrinkage after IL2 but stability is good as well, from what I am learning.

Finally, another pal I have made is a guy named Shaun who lives in western Massachusetts. He also suffers from metastatic kidney cancer and whenever I feel bad for myself I think of him and his ridiculous metastasis (it ate through a rib of his!) and feel terrible for him and for how selfish I feel sometimes. Many people have it so much worse than I do. Shaun is a funny guy and we spend a lot of time on Facebook sending one another links to music and emails about our past lives.
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In between IL2 treatments, an RN named Sharon O’Connor sent me a free CD titled Cancer Be Gone: A Creative Visualization for me to listen to while dealing with the disease. I got it, put it in my laptop bag, and promptly forgot all about it until yesterday when it fell out. Sharon is affiliated with a company called Atlantic Complementary Medical Solutions, an organization that offers hypnotherapy programs, relaxation CDs, guided imagery lessons, and other workshops right here in Hampton, New Hampshire.

I listened to it this morning during my home’s ‘quiet time’ and I have to say, it’s pretty good! Her voice is soothing and relaxing, the background music is not obnoxious or too New-Agey, and the meditation message is nice and inspiring. I listened, took my deep breaths, exhaled and thought “peeeaaace” and imagined myself on the empty beach at Chappaquiddick (about 100 yards from that unfortunate accident location), my usual mental vacation spot.

After listening and focusing for about 20 minutes I feel refreshed, happy, and relaxed. I will give it another go today.

Categories: Beating cancer · Brain surgery · Dreams · HDIL2 · Healing · Meditation · Recovery and recuperation · Scans
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2 responses so far ↓

  • Shaun // July 1, 2009 at 9:48 pm | Reply

    Thanks for the shout out, but I want to clarify a couple of things. First it didn’t “eat through” a rib. It “totally consumed” my right rear 5th rib. That sucker is history – it’s gone! In a sick and twisted way, I’m damn proud that it ate my rib and I didn’t even know it. I kept asking the doc if it was really gone and if it would grow back. Crazy!

    Second point… I don’t believe I’m “suffering” from cancer. When you hang out in the places we do, you learn to be thankful for whatever health and strength you have. We see so many people that truly are suffering, but I’m not one of them right now. I tell everyone I’m y living just a guy living with cancer. Sometimes I suffer through the side effects of Sutent, but during my breaks I have absolutely no physical reason to even think I have cancer. I’ve even been spotted 2 stories up on a ladder recently. Somebody actually called my father and ratted me out. I’m almost 54 and I have my 81 year old father scolding me like I got caught stealing his change again.

    When I was first diagnosed, you bet I was suffering. But not now. I’m very grateful that I don’t have symptoms, but that also tricks my mind into thinking that just maybe I’ve had a spontaneous remission. However every 12 weeks I get scanned and it’s still there. So far I’ve been extremely blessed that there has been stability and no new cancer since 2/07.

    In a couple of weeks I’ll be up in NH for my son’s wedding and I plan on dancing all night with my wife, friends, children and who ever else who doesn’t feels sorry for the old white guy with cancer but no rhythm! I can always blame that on the missing rib.

    Shauner

  • Max // July 13, 2009 at 2:46 pm | Reply

    “No lesions, no issues, no hematoma. Everything has resolved and I am good to go.”

    Great news. Sounds like you’ve made some great friends.

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