Silent Monk Chorus

More Bad Poetry

Twas the hour before Chemo
And all through the infusion center,
Not a tumor was stirring,
Not even a Follicular Lymphoma.

The IV bags were hung on a coat rack, up high
In hopes that my nurse would soon come by.
She implanted the needles, all snug my arm
The Benadryl was injected -- my it's getting warm!

The medicine was dripping, and the hours passed by.
The sound of my snoring made the other patients cry.

When out in the hall, there arose such a clatter,
I stayed in my chair -- can't get up and walk around with all these tubes in me!

When the last drop was finished, the nurse walked back in,
And made me an appointment to do this all again.

As I stumbled to my feet, I let out a sigh,
Merry Chemo to all, and to all a goodbye!

How to Game the new Health Care System

To get the most for my money under Obamacare, I don't think that I will buy insurance. Instead, I will pay the penalty for not buying the individual mandate. The penalty is a lot cheaper than the actual insurance.

Then, when I do need the insurance, the insurance companies have to sell it to me, even though I have a preexisting condition.

Obviously, if everyone does as I do, then Obamacare will be a complete disaster. But it is a good deal for me, so what do I care if the whole system falls apart?

I think I will change my name to Senator Ben Nelson.

Lazy Sunday

Today I napped. When I wasn't napping, I was asleep. The only exercise I got was stretching.

Ok, that's not exactly true. I did push my wife's car out of the garage so that I could jump start her battery. Then I took it to the auto parts store and bought her a new battery, so that I can sleep in peace and not have to push cars around.

Then the daughter came by, and I had to go out and add oil to her car.

I am exhausted. I hope tomorrow comes late, 'cause I need to get some rest.

I am still in the market for white blood cells. Got any?

Twenty Things to do for a Low White Blood Cell Count

1. Wash hands
2. Use hand sanitizer
3. Sleep
4. Wash hands
5. Don't shake hands with people
6. Don't offer to hug
7. Decline to be hugged
8. Ask the doctor "Where have the white blood cells gone?"
9. Watch the doctor shrug shoulders in reply
10. Wash hands
11. More hand sanitizer
12. Take a nap
13. Worry that my throat is getting scratchy, or that the last sneeze is the sign of a cold.
14. Organize necessary belongings for trip to the emergency room
15. Wash hands
16. Eschew mistletoe
17. Read between naps
18. Don't go outside where it's cold
19. Search eBay for discount white blood cells
20. Play the piano, but wash hands after touching those keys

William Shatner and Sarah Palin Exchange Dramatic Readings

Sistene Chapel

From: http://www.boingboing.net/2009/12/11/elevator-mural-casts.html

White Blood Cell Count has gone low again

Aaargh! My white blood cell count is low again. White blood cells fight infection, and when there are not enough of them....

The doctor does not seem worried. I think what I will do to combat this is the following:

1. Surf the web more.
2. Go to bed earlier.
3. Sleep later.
4. Eat more food. Especially potato chips.
5. Exercise less.

If I have left anything out, please let me know.

"Take Your Name Off Your Phone"

This is absolutely great:

Fifth Round of chemo is complete

I completed my fifth round of chemotherapy yesterday with no ill effects. I'm getting the idea that I will be on "maintenance" for a while. Maintenance means getting this one chemotherapy drug every month or so for a year.

I will try to get clarification on these plans. I don't see the need for chemo now that the tumor is gone. There is so much I don't understand.

Exit Interview with the Tumor

[Editor's note. The Tumor was kind enough to sit down for an exit interview with his host.]

Kevin: You are leaving me. It looks like we have known each other for almost four months now.

Tumor: You have known about me for four months. I've known you much longer than that. You are a little slow.

Kevin: Why are you leaving?

Tumor: It’s just not fun here any more. All these drugs you take make me uncomfortable. I’m bored with your frequent hospitalizations. I think it’s just time to move on. I’ll find a better place.

Kevin: I am glad that you are dissatisfied with me. What will you do at your new place?

Tumor: I think I will start a family.

Kevin: A family? Where will you find a wife?

Tumor: I have already found one on the Internet. She's from Lymphuania. She is a Royal Tumoress, and a graduate of the Chernobyl school of advanced tumorology. I would add that she is a lymphomaniac, but I don't think you would get the joke. We plan to raise lots of little tumors. I can’t wait to get started.

Kevin: That doesn’t sound very nice. You should be stopped.

Tumor: I’m hurt. You're like a villain in a James Bond movie, plotting my demise.

Kevin: Let's change the subject. Do you have any hobbies?

Tumor: I like to read, but it is really dark in here. I also like to take long walks on the beach at sunset, but being a tumor, I don’t get out much.

Kevin: That’s too bad, but I’m not at all sorry for you.

Tumor: You will miss me now that I’m gone. Just remember, I changed your life forever.

Kevin: Yes you have. Be gone!

Tumor is Gone

Good news from the doctor today. The tumor is gone. All that remains is a little more chemo and then a decision on a maintenance plan. I think this is good news. I will not miss my tumor!

Tumor Times Volume 20

Volume 20 of Tumor Times! 20 weeks since cancer diagnosis. I am still here, and the tumor is mostly gone.

Nothing to report this week except that I worked during the week and raked leaves on Saturday.

I also slept a lot. About 10 hours a night. I enjoy sleeping. It is what I do best.

God bless all of you. Drive safely, and stay tumor-free if at all possible.

Ode to My Muse

Tumors are violet,
White blood cells are blue.
I am a lymphoma poet,
Creating verse so new.

Chemotherapy is bliss,
Autumn leaves are brown.
One more verse like this,
And I will have to leave town.

Tumor Times Volume 19 -- The Empty Nest

After spending last weekend goofing off in the hospital, I was blessed this weekend with grass cutting, leaf raking, and helping my daughter move into her new apartment.

The leaves and the grass were easy – I worked until I had done enough. The moving was harder. My daughter bought one of those entertainment centers that you have to assemble. I think it only had 300 fasteners. That project taxed my tiny mind and my patience for about 3 hours. I got everything assembled except the drawers. I might even finish those one day.

There was another milestone this weekend. Usually I move mattresses and stuff by myself, even up and down stairs. This time, I punted the job entirely and asked two capable gentlemen to take my place. Thanks to Manny and Alex for putting that queen-size monstrosity upstairs at my daughter’s apartment. I like this idea of outsourcing heavy lifting to others.

Here am I, full of tumor and empty of nest.
Another edition of Tumor Times has been put to rest.
To each of you, my very best.

P.S. My apologies. I will outsource the poetry writing beginning next week. ;-(

Good Times

Got in a full day at work with no problems. Quite productive. It's nice to know that problems stay around until you solve them. ;-)

Tomorrow will be more of the same with less rain. It certainly is much nicer to sit at a desk than it is to lay in a hospital bed!

Medication and Variation

Just when I thought I had already taken every drug known to man, I find myself with no fewer that two new ones today. Ha. If I could spell some of these big words on the little pill bottles I would be a very smart man.

I have a section of the kitchen table set aside for my medication litter: all of the little bottles and boxes that makes for a healthy me. It's a good thing I have a huge kitchen table.

So far, no new infections since I left the hospital at 2:00 this afternoon. Pray that I can develop this into a long-term trend.

Tumor Times Volume 18 -- Back in the Hospital

So, I wind up back in the hospital on Saturday for fever, infection, and dehydration.

I see a pattern here:
- Kevin gets Chemo. This is one drug. It takes 4 to 6 hours to drip.
- Less than two weeks later, Kevin goes to the hospital where everything else known to man is dripped into him.

Whatever the effect of the chemo on the Tumor (the tumor appears devastated – I feel so sorry for him), the effect on Kevin is fever and infection that mandates a multiple-day hospital stay.

At the moment, I’m the only patient on the floor that I see walking around. Everyone else on the floor appears to be much worse off than I am. I will try to keep my whining to a minimum.

I had several visitors yesterday, and enjoyed them all. I am currently typing volume 18 of Tumor Times on my laptop, utilizing the hospital’s wireless network.

Thanks for reading. I’ll be posting more updates to the blog later today, including whether or not I really got out of the hospital today.

God bless you all!

6 year old girl with cancer hid love notes for her parents

Incredible.

You can see pictures of some of them at this link.

Tumor Times, Volume 17 -- Tumor on the Run

The results of My CT scan a week ago are in. This is the first update on the tumor since the initial scan in July confirmed that I have cancer.

And it is ….. Good News! The tumor is apparently responding well to treatment. No additional complications have been found. The report was as good as could have been expected.

Here is an excerpt from the report:

"There is good response to therapy of the right hemipelvic mass with only some residual stranding posterior to the paraspinous musculature on the right. The bony destructive process appears stable with no new lesions. No pathologic fractures are seen."

I hope you understood that. ;-)

As I mentioned last time, my chemotherapy has been changed from five drugs to one. And, I only have chemotherapy once a month. I feel great, and the swelling in my feet and lower legs is getting gradually better.

My hair is also starting to grow back. The only thing missing from my life now is bad news.

God bless all of you!

Good Dog

This is a really good dog.

Mozart Cures Cancer

During my last stay in the hospital, Alicia de Larrocha had her last stay in a hospital in Barcelona. She died at age 86. She was 4'9" tall, and I hope someday to measure up to the grace, warmth, and precision of her playing. Especially her playing of Mozart.

I am convinced that listening to de Larrocha, not chemotherapy, is responsible for reducing the size of my tumor. In fact, Mozart is good for whatever ails ya. Enjoy!

Great News from the Scan

Last Friday, I had a CT scan to determine the status of the tumor.

The report is in: The tumor is responding well to treatment, and there is no indication of any additional bone destruction.

In short, this is as good a report as could have been expected. The only better report would have been "Tumor? What tumor?".

It looks like we have to give God the credit for this good news!

Tumor Times, Volume 16

Week 16 of Lymphoma Season is complete. Here is the highlight reel.

I felt really good this week. I am walking more, lifting more heavy stuff (with success), and bringing more energy to everything I am doing.

I had my regularly scheduled doctor’s visit on Monday. They thought me healthy enough to schedule my next chemotherapy, which I had on Wednesday. And, to cap the week, I had a CT scan on Friday. The purpose of the scan was to determine the status of the tumor. I expect the results this week, and I will communicate the news in next week’s Tumor Times.

There is good news about the chemotherapy as well. Instead of taking five different chemo drugs, I am now taking only one. This is good in several ways. First, it now takes four hours instead of nine to complete a session. Second, the drugs that knock down my immune system are no longer part of my therapy. That also means that I should be more healthy and less tired after chemotherapy. (Hopefully, no more trips to the hospital either.) And, I take chemo once a month now instead of once every three weeks.

My hair is also starting to grow back. I think it will come back either gray or flaming red. I think gray is the more likely outcome. ;-)

And remember, regardless of the outcome of the scan, or the prognosis for the future, God has been extremely good to me in every way possible. He has been good to you also. Let’s not forget to praise him for all of his goodness!

Check back to this blog page for the results of the scan. I will post them here as soon as they are known.

Great Friday!

I had the CT scan this morning and everything went well. The purpose of the scan was to assess my tumor, to see if any progress is being made toward its eradication.

A CT scanner looks like a giant, plastic doughnut. A table holds the patient and slides back and forth through the doughnut hole. The most difficult part of this was keeping the arms raised behind the head as I traveled back and forth through the hole.

It was so difficult that I almost went to sleep. In other words, the CT scan was totally effortless on my part.

The most exciting thing was the contrast injection. That made me feel warm all over for about 30 seconds. Then, the sensation was gone as quickly as it came.

All that is left is test results. I should have those next week. I'm praying that they will be positive for a long and healthy life, but if not, God is still good.

Pray foremost for God's will to be done, and if possible, for Kevin to heal also. Ya gotta have the right priorities!

God bless "all y'all".

Scan tomorrow

On Friday I go for a scan to "see" the tumor and evaluate how it has responded to the chemotherapy.

With any luck, the tumor will have had as rough a time as I have. ;-)

So pray for a devastated tumor and a resilient Kevin. I feel good, and I hope the tumor does not!

Questions and Answers

Here are some thoughtful answers to some never-asked-questions:

Q. What exactly is wrong with you?
A. I have follicular lymphoma. You can read about that here.

Q. Is your cancer localized, or has it uncontrollably spread like wildfire throughout your body?
A. It is localized. All in one place, in my lower spine and right pelvis.

Q. How are you feeling?
A. Very good. At the moment I'm feeling better than I have at any time since August. Let's hope that continues.

Q. Is the Chemotherapy giving you fits?
A. You betcha. It has put me in the hospital twice. I have enjoyed a month-long reprieve from chemo, which is coming to an end in about a week.

Q. Isn't it interesting that tumor and humor rhyme?
A. Yes. I just wish I knew how to exploit that.

Q. Do you have pain?
A. No. Currently, I have some swelling in my feet and ankles that sometimes makes it difficult to walk.

Q. Are you working full-time?
A. Yes.

Q. What's the best thing about having cancer?
A. You find out who your friends are. I am blessed with lots of them. I love you all!

Watch out

Now that I'm feeling better, I'll be posting to the blog more often. Watch out for better content, more coherent writing, and scathing insights into what is wrong with me.

You have been warned.

I'm almost normal, and it is a typical Saturday.

It's cold and windy in my neck of the woods. But, it turns out that this is the best Saturday in a long time. I mean a long, long time.

I made several errands for my ailing wife this morning. She has been ill with a stomach ailment, similar to one that I suffered two weeks ago. It feels good to be the caregiver for a change. Being healthy is a gift not to be taken lightly.

Right now she is taking a nap, while I listen to the wind blow outside.

After lunch, I put on my old clothes and changed oil in my truck. When I finished that, I put on a new dimmer switch--a repair that had been waiting since the middle of August. I haven't attempted repair work like this since June. Wow. I'm almost normal!

I did notice while fixing the truck that getting up and down off the ground takes effort. I'm going to have to practice this so that I get better. My new workout will include multiple repetitions of laying down and getting up. Sounds like fun.

What a week

What a great week. I feel good. So far, no infusions and no hospital (for me, not necessarily for Susan).

Lately, I have been amazed at the number of pills I have to swallow on a daily basis. I count 6 different medications, some of which I ingest more than once daily.

I hate taking pills. More precisely, I hate having to take the time to take the pills.

I guess this is for the best. I have no idea how I would be doing if I didn't take them. I am looking forward to the day when I don't have to take them. I think that will be the sign of complete recovery.

What will I do with all that time I save, NOT taking pills? Ha. I'll probably just waste it complaining about something else.... :-(

Tumor Times Volume 14 -- Columbus Day Edition

After Volume 12’s tale of woe and intrigue, followed by the carefree and lucky Volume 13, it’s now time for Volume 14, the first Holiday Edition of Tumor Times. I guarantee that this will be the most exciting cancer update that you will read this week.

This was a very good week. The soreness and swelling in my right leg continues to abate, and I walk better now than I have since March or April of this year. I feel better each day, and I am moving around enough now to where some strength is returning to my legs. I climb stairs much better now, and I actually have a bit of speed to my stride.

And, as a sign of mobility, I went into Wal-Mart for the first time in 2 months this week. I was able to walk in, get my stuff, and walk out. It was quite an accomplishment for me. Two weeks ago, I would not have attempted such a magnificent feat of strength and endurance.

Plus, I’ve been to the store a few times for my ailing wife. I love the role reversal!

On Wednesday night, I had a fever. On Thursday, out of an abundance of caution, I returned to the doctor, where they gave me fluids (for dehydration) and another antibiotic. The treatment seems effective. I returned to work on Friday, and I’ve been a ball of fire ever since.

I also took a pulmonary test to check my lung function. I did very poorly on the test. But I don’t think it matters. My breathing is fine, and I am really wondering what the doctor is going to do about the poor test results. Will he give me a lung transplant or will he recommend breathing lessons? The test was mostly about inhaling and exhaling large amounts of air under pressure, and I have never been good at that.

Once again, thanks for your prayers and support. The number of people who contact me and encourage me is really amazing. I appreciate all of you. Thanks for reading.

Bad Title

I always thought that "walking with a lymph" was pretty clever. It referred to the back pain that was caused by my lymphoma (tumor). The back pain (extending down my right leg) caused me to walk with a limp. Hence my clever word play.

But, I haven't had back pain of any kind for a couple of months now. I no longer walk with a limp. My dilemma: do I get rid of my clever play on words? Or do I keep it in order to show how clever I am?

That was easy. I keep it. I'm not likely to be that clever again. ;-(

Tilt

After celebrating being Vertical for a couple of weeks, I had a Horizontal day on Thursday.

I had a very busy and productive day on Wednesday, and felt good almost the whole day.

However, a fever on Wednesday night, accompanied by fatigue, had me at the doctor's office on Thursday for several hours. They gave me fluids for dehydration, and a check-up, and put me back on an anti-biotic. I was thrilled just not to have to go to the hospital. (Susan was likewise thrilled.)

I was back at work on Friday, feeling better than Thursday but not as good as Wednesday.

I also took a pulmonary function test today as a follow-up on my bout with pneumonia in August. I did poorly on all the tests. I am just not good at blowing air out of my lungs at high velocity. My breathing is more than adequate, so I'll wait until next week to let the doctor figure out what the results mean.

This, I think, is a big turning point for me. I can get through two weeks without having to go to the hospital! By the end of the month I will be ready for another round of chemo. I hope...

Great Timing

I had a new roof put on the house this week. The roofers finished this afternoon, and within an hour of their departure, it poured down rain. And, it promises to rain heavily all night.

I wish the rest of my life could work with this kind of great timing....

Tumor Times Volume 13 -- Lucky Tumor Edition!

This is Lucky Volume 13 of Tumor times, and it’s nothing but good news this week:

1. No hospitalizations :-)
2. No chemotherapy. This is double-plus good!
3. Worked all week. Full-time every day.
4. Felt better each day.
5. Less swelling in the feet and ankles. Walking is easier.

And with that, I will sign off. Thanks again for your prayers and support, I’ve needed all of them!

One Thousand Visitors

The little counter at the bottom of this page has counted 1000 visits to this site since its inception in July.

I am amazed. And happy.

What's the score?

Fighting a tumor must be like playing baseball without a scoreboard. I'm playing the game, but I don't know the score or the inning.

My guess is that the tumor is ahead, 2 to 1. I don't mind playing from behind. Plus, I'm pretty sure it's still early in the game.

Tumor Times, Volume 12

If you missed Volume 11, don't worry -- there wasn't one. I have been too tired to type.

It has been 12 weeks since the cancer diagnosis. The last two weeks have been quite eventful. I managed to make it back to ICU due to a fever, a low white blood cell count, and various other problems revealed through routine blood work.

The purpose of putting me in ICU was so that the hospital could dispense its entire arsenal of pharmaceuticals into my veins. In addition, I was in "reverse isolation", meaning that everyone who came to my room had to put on a mask, gloves, and a gown.

This kind of outfit, of course, makes visitors look silly. However, I don't recall being amused.

This visit to the hospital also gave me my first experience with a catheter. The less said about this, the better.

Interestingly, I was given the exact same room in ICU that I had occupied two weeks earlier. I think there is plaque on the wall now, commemorating the room as the "Kevin Hamner Memorial Sty".

I must admit that I am impressed by the local hospital. I've been there a lot, spent quality time on several different floors, and I find that it is generally a very clean and pleasant place to be. Of course, I still can't get any sleep in the hospital because the beds are evidently built for people who are less than 5 feet tall.

I left the hospital a week ago. I have been very weak, and walking was difficult for a few days due to swelling caused by all of the IV fluids I was given. I am now back at work, and it's good to be able to be somewhere other than the house or the hospital. My most recent visit with the doctor was today, and I don’t have to have another chemotherapy treatment for three weeks. And, when it resumes, it promises to be less arduous than the three treatments I have had to date. I hope so. I am worn out.

Thanks to all of you for your prayers, support, calls, and cards. I needed every one of them. I may not be able to thank all of you in person for all you have done, but rest assured that I do remember.

Stayed tuned for Volume 13 next week. I know that will be a lucky one.... ;-)

Still Kickin'

I have been catching up on sleep and laying flat on my back with both legs high in the air. I have a lot of swelling in my feet and legs, and that makes it hard to walk.

My appetite is good, and I am fairly clear-headed. I still don't like standing up (dizzy), and looking at all of my swelling makes me wince.

In all of this God is good. He has provided so far, and I am at a point where I have to trust Him for every good thing. Not a bad place to be.....

Smiling

You just gotta smile when the week first falls apart only to get pieced together again by the end of the week. God has been amazing. I'll write it up in the next edition of Tumor Times. In the meantime, let's have some fun!

Back in Hospital

Back to Skyridge with a temp of 102 degrees. Antibiotics and fluids are flowing freely. It looks like a 3 day stay. Yuck.

Tumor Terminology

Medical Terminology I learned during my hospital stay:

------
ICU – Idiot Containment Unit. I was the idiot.

Private Room – Sleep Deprivation Chamber.

Blood Work – A full-contact sport that the vampire nurses play at 4:00 am. Every day.

Chest X-Ray Machine – A totally unnecessary piece of equipment that two 25 year old guys push around the ICU for exercise. Why this had to be done at 5:00 am escapes me. But, since the vampires had already awakened me, I guess it wasn’t too bad.

Medication – Something that has to be spread out over the course of the day so that it can be administered each time I get ready to fall asleep.
-------

My education is now complete. I must admit, the first night home I slept so good that I swore that I will never go back to the hospital again!

I followed up with the pulmonary doctor yesterday, and my breathing is good but not great. I don’t have a lot of lung capacity at the moment and that worries me. Not that I can do anything about it. However, my current lung capacity is much greater now than it was a week ago.

Otherwise, my potassium is low, and I am anemic. The cancer doctor prescribed pills for the former, and is working on a treatment for the latter. My third chemotherapy was Thursday, and although it doesn’t make me sick, it does take a lot out of me. I think I only have three more chemotherapy sessions to go.

At the end of the treatments, I guess the judges will assemble and decide who won: the chemotherapy or the tumor. Right now, I’m betting on the chemotherapy, but I think the tumor is putting up a valiant fight. If each of you send money, I will try to bribe the judges. ;-)

Thanks for the continued prayers and support. I cherish each of you!

Good Report

Good report at the pulmonary doctor today. I am recovering nicely from the pneumonia. I didn't do well on one of the breathing tests, so he gave me an inhaler to use. Otherwise, my breathing is fine and I don't have to use oxygen any more!

Tomorrow is back-to-work. Let's see how long I last!

Norman Borlaug

I have read about Norman Borlaug over the years and have always marveled how a man of such great achievement could receive such meager recognition.

Because of Borlaug, "...food is more abundant and cheaper today than ever before in history..." He is a man who kept millions from starving by creating and planting high-yield crops that were also disease and pest resistant.

You can read more about Mr. Borlaug here.

He wasn't a politician. He was not a celebrity. He accomplished miracles working with seed, dirt, and farm equipment in some very inhospitable regions of the world. A truly great man.

Impressive, no?

The observant among you probably noticed that Thursday's post (below) was written and posted from the doctor's office while I was under the influence of powerful chemotherapy drugs. I'm impressed that the post made sense.

You too, should be impressed with me. I was the only one at the doctor's office with a laptop, blogging my treatment. ;-)

Yardwork!

Last weekend, I sat in a chair in my driveway directing my highly trained and ultra-professional lawn care crew. I had to sit because I lacked the strength to stand. I also had to sit because I was tied to my oxygen tank with a short, clear plastic tube that ran up my nose.

This weekend, much is different. I fired up my riding lawn mower and cut my own grass. I was able to do it without an oxygen tank (that would have looked silly on the riding lawnmower). And, I had a good time doing it.

It's had to believe how such a little thing (like being able to ride my own lawn mower) makes such a big difference to my attitude. Now, I'm ready to do anything!

Wait. That should be "almost anything." I don't think I'll be tearing down and rebuilding the back deck any time soon.

Again, thanks for your cards and prayers this week. I'll have some really good news to report on Monday after my visit to the lung doctor, who I'm sure will be totally impressed with my progress, my strength, my lack of pneumonia, and my singing voice!

Record Time

It looks like today's chemotherapy will be done in record time. I will actually be done in 8 hours today. The previous chemo session was 9 hours. The first chemo lasted 12 hours.

I just hope that I feel good tomorrow. I dreaded getting started this morning. But, so far, I feel good and seem to be tolerating all of these chemicals just fine.

Having access to the internet during chemo is a lot of fun. Highly recommended.

Chemo on Thursday

Wow. My first update in 4 days. I should be able to increase the frequency of updates now that my energy starting to return.

My next chemo is on Thursday the 10th. They decided that I am healthy enough now to take another drubbing from various tumor-toxic drugs. I am being treated like a bowling pin: set me up, knock me down, set me back up again. ;-(

The blood work today showed deficiencies in red blood cells and potassium. I think they are going to address those issues with yet more drugs. My breathing is much better. I think I am at the point where I can get rid of the oxygen. I will have to get the pulmonary specialist to agree with me on that. His evaluation is on Monday.

I feel blessed and very fortunate to have all of you praying for me. Please continue to do so. I will need them tomorrow!

Still Kicking

I am enjoying my new found freedom.

Last weekend: bedrest.
This weekend: short walks around the house, while managing the plastic tubing that supplies my oxygen.

Last weekend: used as a pincushion and blood dispenser.
This weekend: No more poking and prodding.

Last weekend: taking a sleeping pill at 10:00 pm so that I could fall asleep by 4:00 am, at which time the bloodlettings would start.
This weekend: Stretching out on the bed at 9:00 pm, and blissfully unaware of anything until the next morning.

The only plus from a week ago is that I had a lot of visitors. I miss them. But, we have had several visitors at the house this week, and that has been special too.

I thank all of you for your prayers and support!

From the Mailbag

These two email correspondents have suggested a new treatment program for my lymphoma:

Not as grumpy today

Today is my birthday. I celebrated by not going to the hospital. ;-)

Not feeling at home

I don't feel at home when I'm sitting around with oxygen tubes up my nose. What's the point of getting better when I have tubes in my face? I am not at all happy with God today. I am getting a raw deal. I should be able to breathe on my own after a week in the hospital, right?

Here is an opportunity for me to step out on faith. I am thinking about it.

Let's go home

Today is the day. I am out of the hospital. I can't wait to change locations!

Tuesday Exit

It looks like I can't go home until Tuesday. I was really looking forward to leaving this afternoon.

Breaking Out

I think I might be able to go home tomorrow. My routine should be to take it easy and get stronger over the next several days.

I'll update this as decisions are made. I am already packing to go home!

Getting going

The pneumonia must have taken a lot out of me. I have a short attention span and things that used to be fun (like updating this blog) now seem to take a whole lot of effort.

The best development this weekend has been the lack of a cough. At its worst, the cough was violent and spasmodic, and I would deliberately not move in order to avoid having another coughing fit.

The best thing to happen to me this weekend was a visit from my cousin and her husband. They drove all the way from Birmingham just to visit and admire my bald pate. They are two of the most special people in the world, and the fact that they could find time in their busy schedules to visit with me makes me feel very important and blessed.

Pray that I get my strength back soon. I can sit up ok, but moving around becomes tiring. I'm going to have to develop an exercise program to get my endurance back!

Take a Deep Breath and.....

I am out of the ICU and back in a regular hospital room. I am breathing well, and my coughing is almost gone.

To recap the week: Monday I went to the doctor for shortness of breath. The Doctor put me in hospital. The hospital sent me to intensive care. Tests were done. Pneumonia and a blood clot were found.

So, a couple of antibiotics later, I am breathing better. The most annoying part of the week was the oxygen I had to use. When I sleep, I tend to pull the oxygen stuff away from my face (Not very bright!).

My next goal is to exit the hospital. I'll keep you posted on my escape plans.

Sunday Blessings

I think today was a good day for me. Much less coughing. I actually felt like sitting up, and did so for several hours at a time.

I still need to get rid of the fever and the overall shortness of breath (and brain). I think I will stress test everything at work tomorrow. I am going to take a basket, dustpan, and a broom with me to work tomorrow. When I fall completely apart, I am going to call Susan to sweep me up into the basket and then figure out if there is anything worth salvaging.

My guess is no. No salvage value for me. ;-)

Thanks once again for all your emails of support. The next edition of Tumor Times is overdue and will be in your inbox before long.

Shortness of Brain

In addition to my shortness of breath, I also suffer from shortness of brain. It is really bad to inadvertently delete the post that was here all day.

I think I have the doctors stumped on the cause of the breathing problem. I think it is a cold with a little bit of congestion, aggravated by a dry mouth and a lack of humidity in the house. So, I'm going to drink more water, use the humidifier, and get outside a bit more so that the humidity in the air can saturate my throat and lungs.

I know, it is not much of a plan, but it may work. I'll update you tomorrow on the progress of my home cancer and breathing cures.....

Feeling good today

Energy Level: Up

Pain Level: Slight Ache in left shoulder from yesterday's surgery

Alertness: Very good

Endurance: Getting better. A long way to go.

Sleep: Very good. This is one real benefit of being off the steroid.

Obama Launches new Health Care facility

A new use for Guantanamo Bay.

Personal Best

In the post below, I hoped to be at work by noon on the day of my outpatient, port installation, surgery.

I was at my desk at 10:00 this morning. I done good.

No pain from the surgery. Yet.

New Houses

In my never ending quest to stay on top the latest trends and statistics, I have found that newly constructed American houses are three times bigger than newly constructed houses in the UK, and twice as big as new houses being built in France.

I'm hoping that President Obama reads this blog. Mr. President, does this mean that Americans are spending too much on housing compared to Europeans? Will you socialize the housing industry in order to reduce costs?

Smart dog

Everyone should have a dog like this.

Wrapping up the week

Here is this week's update:
- Leg pain is almost gone.
- Back pain is gone.
- I walk normally. Slow, but normal.
- Elbow is almost back to its full range of motion.
- I am so beautiful.
- Hair continues to fall out, leaving beautiful bald spots on my beautiful head.
- Energy level is way down because I'm no longer taking a steroid.

I'm having a great time. Tomorrow's project will be yard work punctuated by several naps. Monday is an adventure -- outpatient surgery to install a port. My goal is to be done with the surgery and back at work by noon. We shall see.

I'll bet Lewis Garbee didn't know that chemotherapy cures back pain. ;-)

Blood Work

Blood work is done for this week. Result: everything normal. Imagine that. I am normal. And you didn't think that possible. ;-)

Otherwise, I feel like a flat pancake, trampled on the floor after the breakfast rush. My energy level has crashed. I worked a full day today, but the energy was only good from about 8:30 to 4:30. Before and after that it was really lacking. Almost non-existent.

It is all I can do to type now. Off to bed. I'm hoping that the next couple of days brings the old self back. Stay tuned to find out if that happens.....

Broken Elbow

It's official. I have a broken elbow, sustained in a major crash with the pavement on Sunday afternoon.

I know that sounds bad, but it's really not. It is a tiny, tiny fracture that I can't even see on the X-ray, but the doctor assures me is there. The fracture caused a little bit of swelling and a loss of range of motion.

Treatment? There is no cast. There is no sling. I just have to do some little physical therapy things over the next couple of weeks. I should be fully recovered in that time.

Even broken bones cause me relatively little trouble. ;-)

Here is an interesting insight into medical care in Britain, courtesy of their National Health Service (NHS).

The patient, Mrs. Beavers, is dead. The NHS says:
"We can confirm Ms Beavers contacted NHS 24 and that her onward referral was managed safely and appropriately."

Government will be the death of health care in the United States.

Groggy and Grumpy

Apparently, chemotherapy is not all sweetness and light.

Today I felt listless, flat, dull, and kind of grumpy. I did get up early, and I had my shot at the doctor's office this morning. Other than the listlessness, I note no other ill effects like aches and pains or dizziness or whatever.

Of course, what I'm describing also sounds like old age. :-(

Afternoon events consisted of a nap followed by some sitting around. Another interesting development is that my right leg is now almost pain free, and I actually walk without a limp. The irony is that now that I can walk, it seems that I no longer have the energy to do so!

Ah well. Tomorrow is Sunday. I'm going to concentrate on resting well and having a better day tomorrow.

Really great Friday

I had a really great day today at work. Focused, lots of energy, great productivity.

I was borderline sharp.

It's gotta be the steroids.... ;-)

Philosophy 101: On Being Good vs. Doing Good

There is a difference between being good and doing good. People who concentrate on being good are noble and virtuous. People who focus on doing good are a like a disease that you can't get rid of.

To illustrate, let's look at two people. One is a good doctor, the other is the notorious do-gooder, President Barack Obama.

The doctor does good by engaging in a rigorous, demanding profession that rewards him with financial gain. He looks after me for two reasons: first because he can make money from me, and second because he is concerned about my well-being. These two motives are intertwined. If I am not well, I cannot pay. The doctor's incentive is to keep me alive so that I can work and pay his bill. The doctor also takes a risk. The payment he is expecting could be lost unexpectedly when I am hit by a passing car.

The President, like all do-gooders, does not know me. But he knows what he thinks, and his thinking must be the best for me. If I disagree, he will overrule my objections and tell me it is for my own good. He will give unsolicited advice, recommend unwanted courses of action, and when anything goes wrong will blame me for not following his advice more carefully. He takes no risk. His satisfaction can only come from one thing: his ability to either influence or control my behavior.

I trust the doctor more because we enter into a mutually beneficial relationship. If I stop seeing benefit, I stop seeing and paying the doctor. With the President, if I stop seeing benefit, he doesn't stop helping me. In fact, I can't get away from him without leaving the country.

The profit motive of the doctor is more noble than the do-gooder motive of the President. At least the doctor does not pretend that his actions are motivated entirely for my own well-being.

Henry David Thoreau said it best:

If I knew for a certainty that a man was coming to my house with the conscious design of doing me good, I should run for my life, … for fear that I should get some of his good done to me,—some of its virus mingled with my blood.

Second Chemotherapy is over

I finished the second chemotherapy at 5:30 this afternoon, then ran to the pharmacy to pick up refills and then to Staples to return a purchase.

I found out today that Benadryl is very effective at putting me to sleep. I received it as part of the chemo treatment this morning, and it knocked me out. I slept past noon sitting up in a chair! I was pretty groggy for the afternoon as well. I finally started to wake up around 4:00, and by then I was getting impatient that the drip was not yet finished.

I feel pretty good, although I am a bit run-down for a man who just sat around all day.

The unexpected sleeping allowed me to re-learn a valuable lesson: I am not in control. The last thing I wanted to do today was sleep. But God made me sleep. And God also allowed me to recover enough to drive home and run errands on the way. And it is God, not the doctor or the chemotherapy, that is shaping my present and future.

Hopefully the chemo brain will not set in, and I will be able to remember this valuable lesson!

Good Report Today

I had a good visit at the oncologist today. All of the lab results are back from all the various and sundry tests that I had in July, and there were no surprises. No evidence of any cancer except for the tumor that we found one month ago. I just have one tumor to beat, and that is what I am going to do. It is a relief to know that we are not chasing rogue cancer cells distributed all over my large and beautiful self.

There is also going to be an overhaul of my medications -- less of most everything starting after tomorrow's chemotherapy. That too is a good thing. I like minimalist drug taking.

I would like to thank my wife, Susan, for sitting through the doctor's visit with me. She seemed to be very relieved at all the news, and I'm glad she went. She puts up with a lot, because the tumor sometimes makes me impatient and insensitive. I know it's the tumor -- I would never behave that way on my own.

In other news, a gentleman from church has greatly improved the performance of my 27 year old riding lawnmower. I still think the engine has cancer, but it runs better than I do.

Tomorrow is chemotherapy session number two. It should last about 6 to 8 hours. I am hoping for no reactions. I am taking my laptop and a stack of new books so I can work during the dripping. They have wireless internet at the doctor's office, and I asked for a table to work at rather than for a comfy chair. It's great to think that I won't just be wasting time looking at a TV in the infusion room.

I have such a great job now. I get to do lots of new and interesting stuff that challenges my creativity, my analytical skills, and my organizational skills. Tomorrow is one of those days when I am just going to do interesting stuff!

My little sister also sent me fascinating book to read. It's about music and the brain. It's the perfect book for me -- and I can't wait to read it.

God is so good to me. I lack for nothing. So many wonderful people ask about me, talk to me, and give me their support and prayers on a daily basis. I have no idea why. I don't deserve it, but I really do appreciate it.

Apparently, one of the side-effects of chemotherapy is lots of tears in my eyes at some really inopportune moments.

Check back tomorrow. If I get bored, I'll blog about the sound of dripping medicine flowing into my arm.

Timeline

It is almost one month since I started walking with a lymph. Here's the timeline:

July 6th -- I get an MRI to look for a bad disk in my back.
July 7th -- A bad tumor is found instead. A solemn doctor intones the word "cancer".
July 14th -- First meeting with the oncologist.
July 15th -- Biopsy.
July 16th -- CT Scan.
July 17th -- First Chemotherapy treatment. Twelve hours at the hospital having stuff dripped into me.
July 27th -- Found a blood clot in the right leg.
August 1st -- Shaved my perfect head for all to see.

That's a lot of stuff in a short period of time. I hope August is less hectic.

What a difference!

The right leg hurt much less today. I was almost comfortable.

After work, I cut the yard with the push mower. OK, I cut half the yard. I'm pacing myself. Still, just being able to walk and push off with the right leg is something I haven't been able to do over the last 10 days.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, my riding mower appears to have cancer of the engine. It doesn't want to run.

I had also forgotten what it is like to work up a good sweat pushing a lawn mower up hill on a muggy night in Southeast Tennessee.

When I get well, I'm going to walk 10 miles every day just because I can.

Tumor Times, Volume 4

On Monday of this week, I was diagnosed with a blood clot in my right leg. This is what is causing the soreness that I feel, and the soreness makes walking very difficult. The doctor prescribed an anticoagulant to prevent more clotting, and I am supposed to rest and elevate the leg as much as I can to promote healing.

Needless to say, working full time, I don’t elevate it enough. However, the pain is slowly lessening, and tonight I was able to even stride comfortably for a couple of minutes. Small victories are always welcome.

On Thursday, I noticed that hair was leaving my scalp whenever I ran my fingers through it. On Saturday, it started coming out faster. I was shedding more hair than a cat. So, on Saturday night I got it all buzzed off. I’m really pleased with the result. It looks good (I have a perfectly shaped head) and it feels great. It is the perfect August haircut.

My daughter says that the haircut makes me look cancerous. Ha.

Next week is my second round of chemotherapy. I’m looking forward to that, as each round brings me closer to remission.

That’s all for now. God continues to be good in every way. Thanks for all of your prayers, cards, and emails. I appreciate and savor each one of them.

Best Health Care System

The United States has the best health care system in the world. Here are 10 things you probably didn't know about how our system is better than the health care systems in other countries around the world.

I am especially gratified to know that cancer survival rates are higher here than in Canada and Europe.

July 31st -- Fall is in the hair

I think that football practice has already started for most teams. But there's an even more telling sign of fall for me.

The first follicles of autumn float to the ground. As I rub my head, hair magically separates from my scalp and wisps to the ground -- brown hair, gray hair, fine hair. My hair was an old friend, leaving me now for the first time.

I have a follicular lymphoma, so having my follicles fall seems fitting. I was hoping to put off this development one more week. Just another sign of the effects of old Mr. Tumor and his chemotherapy pursuers.

I am ahead of this development. I bought two baseball caps at Wal-mart yesterday. No one will notice I'm bald if I wear a ball cap!

If I get ear rings, I might look like Mr. Clean.

Thursday

The antidote for a sore leg is a sitting position and Mozart. Today I got to listen to symphonies 28, 29, 36, and 38 during my round trip to Knoxville. Pure joy in all four of these gems. I was not familiar with #28, and 29 is now one of my favorites.

The tumor hates Mozart.

Wednesday was even better....

Much more comfortable today. I was able to concentrate much better, and I think I moved about twice as fast as I did yesterday (that's not saying much!). I think the clot must be getting smaller already.

Yesterday afternoon, I found a wonderful card on my desk. It was from all the folks in our Knoxville office. It was great! Cards may seem like a little thing, but this one meant a lot to me. I have a lot of wonderful, new friends, and I need to get to know all of them better.

And, I had lunch today at Schlotsky's with very dear friends that I have not seen in over a month. Thanks for making this a very good week for me!

In other news, my next doctor visit is August 5th, and my next treatment is the 6th. Time flies when you are trying to forget about your next chemotherapy....

Tuesday was OK

The swelling in the right leg went down. The pain level stayed the same. Not a bad trade. I'm worn out from dragging the right leg around all day. ;-(

Otherwise I feel fine. I'm eating well and drinking lots of fluids. Giving myself anti-coagulant injections has turned out to be very easy.

Tomorrow, I'm hoping the pain subsides. I have lots of walking to do this week and I'm anxious to get started!

Oops. Blood clot.

Pain and swelling in my lower right leg (calf) led to a diagnosis of a blood clot in my right thigh. I am giving myself injections to thin the blood and dissolve the clot. I understand that the chemotherapy is the likely cause of the clotting.

So, I have both legs elevated above my heart as I lay in bed updating my blog with my laptop. Not too bad of a situation. I can live like this.

For a while. Tomorrow I want to be back at work. I'm hoping that the swelling will have subsided by then. I have lots to do.

By the way -- do any of you know what a wonderful wife I have???

Tumor Times, Volume 3

Volume 3 is all good news this week!

I had my routine blood work on Thursday and everything is normal. In addition, the results of a CT scan that I had last week came back. It found no additional cancer anywhere else in my body. I have one tumor, and it is all in one place. I think that is about the best news I can ask for.

My energy level is fine. I have a good appetite, and no nausea. I do have some pain in my right leg when I walk.

God bless all of you for the wonderful love and support you have shown me in the last two weeks. I cannot express how much it means to me. Be sure that I have savored each wonderful call, card, and comment from all of you!

Good News

Good news from last week's CT scan: no evidence of any cancer anywhere else except the right pelvis. Nothing has spread. It's one tumor, in one place.

I think that is very Good News!

Leg Pain

My right leg hurts today. It has a dull ache, and I am walking slowly and tenderly. I think this is my first negative development since the first chemotherapy treatment last Friday. So, Praise God! If I didn't have some pain I would not know that I am sick.

Still walking with a lymph.... ;-)

Cancer Survival Rates

This item from First Things shows that our health care system in the US delivers better results for cancer patients than the systems of other countries. Why? Because we can get immediate help. Others have to wait.

President Obama's health care proposals will eliminate speed and efficiency of treatment. They should be opposed by everyone who values effective medical outcomes.

The Whole Tree Down

From Larry Duncan via Facebook:

Christ says, ‘Give me all. I don’t want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work: I want you. I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it. No half-measures are any good. I don’t want to cut off a branch here and a branch there. I want to have the whole tree down.
-C. S. Lewis in Mere Christianity.

Chemotherapy works in the same way: to kill that which should not be there in order to renew the man.

Questions and Answers

Here are some thoughtful answers to some never-asked-questions:

Q. What exactly is wrong with you?
A. I have follicular lymphoma. You can read about that here.

Q. How are you feeling?
A. Very good. My appetite is good, my energy level is adequate, and I am walking better each day.

Q. How was your first round of Chemotherapy?
A. Uneventful. The first round took 10 hours, and I only had one difficult half-hour during that time. I walked out tired, but was able to drive home OK and rested fine that evening.

Q. Isn't it interesting that tumor and humor rhyme?
A. Yes. I just wish I knew how to exploit that.

Q. Is your walking impaired?
A. Somewhat. My tumor is in my lower back and right pelvis, and it does cause pain on the sciatic nerve, which sometimes makes it difficult to walk. I call it walking with a lymph.

Tumor Times Moves to Blogspot

Just to make it easier on me and everyone else, I'm going to move the emails to this blog page. That will make it easier for me to update, and easier for you to catch up. Look for updates every couple of days, and you can read them at your leisure. Remember to contact me via email, or just click one of the comment buttons on the page.

Tumor Times, Volume 2

Time for the second missive in a continuing series of exciting cancer updates.

I had my first chemotherapy on Friday. It took almost 12 hours. I was comfortable for most of the treatment, except for one difficult half hour of nausea, light-headedness, and back pain. I got through that and everything else was uneventful for the rest of the day.

I also had lab tests earlier in the week. As far as I know, nothing new or negative has been discovered through those tests. The prognosis is still good.

At the moment I am feeling fine and I have plenty of energy. I’m taking a break from cutting grass. My lawn mower doesn’t want to run. It keeps stalling. I think it has cancer also.

Next week, I’m going to have an injection on Monday, and more blood work after that. I am told my hair will start to fall out in about a week. I am also told that the first doldrums will start in a week or so. I’m trying to find things to do that will boost my energy levels though all of this. I’m thinking about eating lots of ice cream. That should cure me of everything!

That’s all for now. Please keep Susan and me in your prayers. We need them.

-Kevin

Tumor Times, Volume 1

(Written 7/14/2009)


I had my first visit with the oncologist today and the news is good: the cancer in my lower back and pelvis can be treated successfully with drugs (chemotherapy) and probably not require radiation or surgery.

It is a slow growing tumor, and is very treatable. However, it’s not curable in that a doctor would never be sure that it is complete eradicated from my body. That means watching for a return of cancer in the future. This cancer is called a follicular lymphoma.

I might begin treatments as early as Friday. Except for some lower back pain, the tumor does not affect my health or stamina. I feel fine.

The doctor also plans to do some tests to see if there is more cancer elsewhere, although at this time there is no evidence of it spreading.

I think my prognosis is good, and I thank all of you for your prayers and wonderful notes of encouragement. If you are just hearing about this for the first time don’t worry – the tumor was unknown until one week ago today. The pathologist officially pronounced it cancerous on Friday, July 10th. Things have been moving rapidly.

All in all, I think that today’s news is about the best that I could have expected. I will endeavor to keep you updated.