The mellow before the storm...

It seems odd to me, but I feel quite calm and peaceful as I wait for Wednesday's operation. I've been expecting sleepless nights and stress in my body, but so far I feel good, serene, really. I'm sleeping well... mundane dreams. Today I cleaned my studio and did restorative yoga. On Monday I'll teach and get reiki at school, then after school I have a pre-op meeting at MGH to go over the procedure, medications, medical proxies, living wills, etc...

Tuesday will be a quiet day with Amanda, hopefully a long walk with her and the dog, then acupuncture and a simple meal with Monika and Amanda.

My operation is first thing in the morning on Wednesday (6 am), which suits me just fine as I want to get on with it without all the waiting that often happens at hospitals. The operation should last around 2 or so hours, then I'll be 5 days at MGH before I get home.

During this past 9 months I've come to understand that if I do EVERYTHING I can to overcome this cancer, and it doesn't work, then I can face the last hurdle at least knowing that I did my best. Right now I feel happy, strong and focused. Since I don't feel sick, it's hard to feel like I have a terminal disease. I take the cue from my body, so I'm optimistic about the chances of this operation working. If it doesn't, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

We will try and have Deb make a post on Wednesday night or Thursday to give an update on how it goes, room info etc...

Looking ahead...

We met with my surgeon Tuesday at MGH and discussed the upcoming procedure... I'll be getting intraoperative radiation on March 3. The tumor is down to about an inch, and will allow them to put a cone onto it that will expose the entire growth to radiation, but spare surrounding tissue. If they don't find any metastasized cancer in other places as they go in, then they will remove my gallbladder and do some other plumbing related work, then zap the tumor directly for 1.5 minutes. The location of the growth in relation to the arteries in my gut make the removal of the tumor impossible, so there is no option for the whipple technique.

I will be in the hospital for about 5 days, then home recovering for another 3-6 weeks.

This procedure has a chance of killing ALL the cancer cells in the tumor, and represents a curative possibility for me. The surgeon told us that there is about a 6% chance of cure for people in my situation who are able to get this procedure. Considering the fact that the growth has been shrinking, we are hoping that any cancer cells floating free in my body have been killed by chemo and all the other work I've been doing, and that this gives me a solid chance to get out of this chapter of my life alive...

One disquieting fact is that this procedure represents the last operative or radiation procedure open to me through conventional medicine. If the cancer persists, my only options would be palliative chemo treatments to give me comfort and extend my days.

It's been almost 9 months since this odyssey began, and all my work has been to get to the next treatment option without having any doors to treatment close. It's a strange feeling to be at a place where my options have become finite, with the outcome still undetermined.

When I was diagnosed, I knew it was unlikely that I would ever get to this procedure, as my prospects were not good. The numbers suggested that I would die by this May or June. I wish I could just jump ahead 12 more months to see if I'm in the clear, but I know that the outcome to this journey may reveal itself in slow time, with my efforts having to continue into an uncertain future. I am pleased and grateful to be at this place, and am really looking forward to getting this done!

I have a week to get my classes prepared for my absence, and if things go well, I will be back to my old life by mid April, with plenty of time to teach, start spring seeds and plant the fruit trees I ordered a few months ago...

Some light at the end of the tunnel...

Some good news today.

We met with my medical team to go over the latest scan, and the tumor has shrunk a bit smaller and is stable (not spreading). My radiologist said that it seems to have shrunk off one of the veins, but not yet enough for the whipple operation. I am eligible for intra-operative radiation, which involves an operation that cuts down to the tumor and then uses a protective cone to apply lots of radiation right onto the tumor without doing much damage to surrounding tissue. Several approaches/outcomes are possible; 1. They go in and radiate the tumor for 1.5 minutes and try to kill all of the cancer cells. 2. They go in and see that the tumor is smaller than they thought and will go ahead and do the whipple procedure to remove the tumor and surrounding tissue on the spot. 3. They go in and see cancer in other organs, and stop attempting the procedure because the cancer has spread and containment is not possible.

Sometimes, the cancer can be killed completely by the intra-operative radiation and if there is no other cancer in the body; it is cured... leaving only dead scar tissue.

This is what we hope for...

I am meeting with the surgeon on Tuesday and the operation will be scheduled ASAP.

In the meantime, I continue all the diet, supplements and alternative care work that has helped to get me here...

- David.

The drawing above was done by an old friend during the first week of my diagnosis. He did a bunch of drawings showing the cancer being purged or exploded from my body... it wasn't until we later learned about the intra-operative radiation procedure that we realized how similar his drawing is to where we ended up... He's going home tonight to do a bunch of drawings of me as an old man...

Normalcy

These weeks off are rejuvenating. I'm getting lots of rest and am able to teach without interruption. Today was the start of second semester classes, and I really enjoy these first days with new students. I do lament the fact that my best case scenario medically would be an operation that would likely keep me out of school for the rest of the year. Obviously I hope for that very thing, but I would miss the classroom. I draw LOTS of energy from students...

The fact that I don't feel sick right now, gives me some comfort. My doctors have told me that if the cancer is spreading, I should feel quite bad. So we all take this as a good sign.

I had a dream a week or so ago that I was lying down, feeling connected to the whole universe, and that a powerful white light was beaming into my abdomen, bathing me in bliss. I revelled in it until I was woken up by the sounds of Buddy struggling to stand (he's an old dog that lives with with us and has trouble standing up on wood floors). I went down and helped Buddy onto his dog bed then ran and dove back into bed trying to return to the dream. It was gone, but I vividly remember the feelings and sensations...

I'm taking it as an sign...

-D