Scrap the cliffhanger.

TumorMarkers 27.29 Nov 11

If we were still watching tumor markers, the cliff hanger would still be ongoing. But the PET scan shows clear progression in all areas of my cancer, liver, lungs and bones.

So we change course. We stopping Taxol and moving to Navelbrine. It’s not unexpected. But it’s sobering. It’s sad. It makes me grateful for all of the work I have done to prepare for this point.

What will work and how long it will work for my cancer is a bit of a crap shoot. Yes. I could die in the next year. And there’s a lot of research to predict that to be so. But my oncologist says that because I’m so healthy, she wouldn’t bet on it.

My scans are GLOWING with metabolic activity, a brilliance of light in my liver, lungs and bones.  That’s not a good thing.

But when you look at the size of the tumors under that glow, you’ll see that where I am now is still much much better than where I was a year ago.

I can feel this cancer growing only as shadows. I can feel it when I’m completely still, on the bed, at 4am in the morning, and checking on the echos of warm spots in my body.  I can feel it as whispers, a sense of porous bones, a lost solidity, but only when the steriods lift and leave me quiet,  reflective.

But there’s no physical pain.  And my liver is working great.

Damn pretender.

After Taxol stops working we have a clear line  Or a somewhat clear line.  We know how long the first line chemo treated worked.  Kinda.  And we know that the next lines will not be as effective or work as long.

I started Taxol in mid-February.   So did it stop working now?  Nine months later?  Or did it stop working before I went to France?  A six month success story.

The truth is, it doesn’ty matter.  Que sera sera.  The next treatments might work.  They might all fail.  But I am so grateful that it looks like I will be able to stay competent and independent right up to the end.  And when it’s time, it will be a quick decline.

This is all just so fucking weird.

I think it’s time to get that daily swim in again.

And schedule another trip to Hawaii.

And decorate the house with lights.

And bake cookies.

And cuddle my son,

admire my daughter,

hug my besties,

walk my dog,

and make love to my husband.

 

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5 thoughts on “Scrap the cliffhanger.”

  1. Suzy, you are precious & beloved. Your life matters and you were created for a purpose. Lord, draw Suzy close to You. Through Your grace & power give her eternal hope and abundant life. Amen
    John 10:10 and 5:24

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  2. Suzy, I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I never will again. I’ve also never before witnessed someone grow, find a voice and use it. That’s a huge privilege you’ve given me and everyone who reads your blog. You and I went different ways. That was ok–I always kept watching you, but truth be told, I never quite got over it.

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  3. Suzy–your voice is vibrant and your entry is courageous. The segment about listening to your body is beautiful. I’m not dealing with anything so precarious as you but after a year of serious illness, your post brought tears to my eyes. I haven’t been nearly so spirited as you are and I admire you deeply.

    Liked by 1 person

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