Actually, I’m not.
But you know me. Use the title to suck you in, and then you feel obligated to finish it out. Heck, I should have been in marketing. Right now my Marketing Director is going, “uh, no.” She’d be right.
So the testy nature of this week that I am referring to is the the number of tests I’ve been (or will be) subjected to. Started off with an EKG Monday morning along with another blood draw (two tries of course). Heck that beats 3 from the last time. The clinical trial tech dropped the comment “hmm, that looks different” when viewing the EKG strips. Didn’t get a chance to have her clarify that but since there were still squiggles on the graph, and I haven’t fallen over or received a phone call, I guess it was hunky dory. Then yet another blood draw later in the day, because, as you know, the two medical organizations cannot share data. Don’t go there. Yesterday I had my every-six-week (I think) echocardiogram, aka, a knuckle noogie. I opted to have this done at UCSD instead of the Hillcrest site in order to avoid the technician I had last time that left bruises. Or at least it felt like he did. Lo and behold, who walks in? Of course. Apparently he occasionally works up at the UCSD site and I was lucky enough to get him once again. For whatever reason this time around he was not nearly as sadistic. And now tomorrow (Friday) comes the biggies: my six week CT (aka cat) scan and the brain MRI which now must be done at the same time every time. At least both are at the same location and I just walk 20 feet away for the cat-scan after the MRI. Two and a half months into the trial, I think we finally have the schedule down. That’s what happens when you are el numero uno in the trial. Should have the results early next week. Could use some more of your mojo to help ensure positive, or actually in this case, negative results.
Of course the number of tests this week pales in comparison to the week when I started the trial back in mid July. Hard to believe it’s been that long. And my buddy Dann would scoff, and probably say pshaw, at the number of tests I am whining about. And why would that be? Because he GOT IN THE TRIAL! Yup, he apparently is a mutant. Or least his cancer cells are. So this week he went through the whole shebang, even more time-compressed because he flew down from Portland and they crammed everything into two days. Thanks to those of you who clicked on his blog and offered some encouragement. Obviously didn’t hurt. He and his wife are flying down and are coming over for dinner on Monday to celebrate his first pill popping on Tuesday. Of course we will have a bottle of Rombauer chilled for the occasion. I understand that alcohol kills germs.
Last week my wife and I were able to take that trip to our friend’s house outside of Boston. It was the first trip my lung-onc authorized. Handled it fine with a combination of a bulkhead seat, an aisle seat, and getting up and down and walking the length of the plane, much to the eyebrow raising of the passengers as I just walked back and forth. That and wearing these new very stylish compression stockings that seemed to help quite a bit. In fact, right now my leg and ankle are much improved. Reduced in size from ginormous to just fat. But all of that was forgotten when we arrived at their lakeside house that required the last mile traveling on a rutty, dirt road. Here is a view from their small boat dock. I think my BP dropped 30 points. Of course the several bottles of Rombauer they had waiting upon our arrival did not hurt. Ahhhh:
Next week I have another trip, this time to Raleigh for business. Looking forward to hooking up (lets be very clear for my wife’s sake: not that kind of hook-up) with some science center industry peers. Trying to figure out the logistics of how I will manage my twice-a-day Lovenox injections, since, with the time change, my schedule will be 10am and 10pm instead of 7 and 7. That could get a bit problematic, especially since this 61-year-old is not quite the man-purse carrying kind of guy and I need a place to stash the syringes. And with that schedule, most likely I will be in the middle of something when my very calming alarm song goes off on my phone. Eh, I’ll figure it out. Small stuff.
So I realize this blog is not up to the level as my more philosophical rantings of late. But hey, sometimes you feel like a nut; sometimes you don’t. Fifty points if you know where that came from. But I wanted to get an update out, even if it was something less than noteworthy. My next blog will provide the results of my scans from tomorrow. Let’s hope I don’t get the results while sitting on a tarmac in a far-off city like last year. However, I have no reason to suspect anything other than more awesome comments from my lung-onc. I want to maintain my status as her poster boy that she brags about to her colleagues regarding the results from AZD9291 (the A-Team).
Business as usual. Day at a time.