UncleDoug Posted April 5, 2005 Share Posted April 5, 2005 Hi, Guys!; Waiting on pins and needles finally paid off - I have pin and needle holes all over my feet! (Or maybe it's from the needle biopsy - who can tell?) Got my diagnosis: SCLC (extensive) starting in left lung (about 3.7cm x 4cm) with METS to right adrenal gland (7.8cm x 8cm). Large mass on right side pushing up and down. This is causing me the pain which first brought me to the ER and initial diagnosis. Had MRI on head, and CT on bone mass 4/04/05. This to rule out/in additional METS. Start chemo on 4/06/05. Radiation and surgery ruled out due to size and placement of the mass'. On 3, off 13 cycle of Carboplatin and Vepesid (VP-16). Wish me luck! I'll trade pain for nausea and hair loss anytime. I'll keep you all posted on my progress as I go down this road that you've so graciously blazed for me. Started a Journal. Here is an excerpt. Feel free to comment: Sunday, April 3rd No big difference between this Sunday and any other Sunday, except this Sunday I have a slightly more realistic view of my own mortality. It’s funny. When I get up in the morning it sometimes takes 5 or 10 minutes to pass before I think of the “C” word. You know - just like any other morning – ‘Yawn - “La-de-dah-de-dah” - take a leak – “La-de-dah-de-dah” – open the door and get the paper – “La-de-dah-de-dah” – pet the cat – “La-de-dah-de . . .”, HOLY shi_! I’M DYING!!”’ It takes the sting out of the morning drizzle, I’ll give you that. Reality can be a real witch, sometimes. This is the part in the movie, by the way, where the young, pretty, divorcee, with one adorable little 8 year-old boy to raise, sags to the floor in the hallway and starts sobbing uncontrollably into her hands; silently, of course, so as not to wake Jimmy, who doesn’t know yet, and has to be gotten off to school; and then there’s Bob, her ex, the b*stard, who . . . Well, you get the picture. But most mornings aren’t really like that, of course. What you really do is finish making coffee, take the front section – leaving the bulk of the paper on mom’s chair so she can read it when she gets up – turn on the ‘Today’ show real low (so that’s what the most recently fired apprentice on “The Donald’s” reality show really thinks) and start planning a day with slightly shorter roads attached to it than before; a day with slightly fewer options, where money isn’t quite so important, where, “Say . . . listen to those songbirds out there” is said with a slightly different pitch in your voice. A day, that when the FedEx driver delivering a package to your neighbor says, in passing, “Hey, how’s it going?” you stand there like an oaf, silent, until he pulls away. Not because you’re rude, or ill-mannered, or have nothing to say in response – but because you have so much to say in response that you’re still filtering options in your mind as he drives out of sight. Just another morning. Just another grain of sand falling into the bottom half of Dorothy’s hourglass. See ya, Uncle Doug Tacoma, WA Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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