Disappeared

It is with tremendous gratitude and much joy that I can report the pathology results from my recent tests show that my “lymphoma has disappeared.”   As hoped for and expected everything is clear.

The results came to me today, Sunday afternoon, in New Jersey.   We are in the middle of a marathon trip “welcome weekend” for my wife as she prepares to begin her new job as the rabbi of Congregation B’nai Israel in Emerson.  She led services, fielded questions, taught religious school, attended meetings, and was honored at a dinner dance Saturday night.  

At the B'nai Israel dinner-dance last night.

Tomorrow she does media interviews and attends more meetings.   All four of us were staying with friends in nearby Teaneck, and we returned “home” Sunday afternoon exhausted – and girding ourselves for more busy days ahead.  We all headed for naps, and when I rose, I picked up a message on my cell phone.  

It was my gastroenterologist.  I had an endoscopy last Tuesday and was scheduled to meet with the oncologist for results on June 3.   The message from my gastroenterologist began “I just received the pathology results, and I felt it warranted a Sunday call.”   This opening, in and of itself, was not necessarily the sunny weekend interruption I was hoping for, but he quickly went on to relay the very good news that the tests were clear and that all evidence of lymphoma has disappeared.

I may get a more complete and nuanced analysis from the oncologist when I see him, but I’m, of course, feeling terrific.  In truth, I feel mostly just confirmed in my own beliefs and expectations.  I would have been surprised to hear anything else. 

So the expectation is that for the next couple of years, I will continue to get periodic endoscopic exams as my condition is monitored.  As we are moving to New Jersey in less than a month, that work is likely to be performed on the east coast.  My California doctors have given me referrals to a local New Jersey general oncologist and an eminent specialist at Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in NYC.   I will be well looked-after.

My only concerns over the last couple of months have been the possible effects of the tremendous stress we have been under as we sold our California house, bought a home in New Jersey, said goodbye to friends & colleagues in Los Angeles, and started the multi-faceted process of moving.  Debby’s new congregation seems very warm, welcoming, and tremendously excited to have her there.  I’m not sure yet what I’ll be doing or where my career will take me.  It’s possible the China film I was working on will come back to life.  I’m talking with a university here about teaching as an adjunct in their film program, and I’m in touch with a growing circle of colleagues in New York.  Then again, after our adventures in real estate lately, I’ve thought that that might be a field I could thrive in. 

The new house (cross-your-fingers) on Bennett Rd. in Teaneck, NJ.

We hopefully get to move in sometime in July.

I’m cultivating an openness to new directions, and I am very eager to put my full energy and health into new pursuits.   This may be the last chapter of this particular blog, but I look forward to being in touch and keeping up with you on life’s new adventures.

Thanks again to all of you for your prayers, warm wishes, and amazing support during this all-but-ended episode.

Nothin' Doing

Mmm. Broccoli.

After a morning of de-stressing with acupuncture and massage, I showed up at the oncologist’s office in a rather jovial mood.  As usual, they whisked me right into an exam room, this time bypassing the lab, and the doctor arrived almost immediately.

He went over what the gastro doctor had said, adding detail.   My original diagnosis had been somewhat large and in multiple sites in my stomach.  What the recent endoscopy found was a small region that still carries lymphoma cells.  It’s such a small region that the PET scan didn’t detect it.   Nevertheless, there is something there, and there are several possible paths forward.

The oncologist affirmed that he originally had said it would take six months for the lymphoma to reduce to “undetectable” amounts. (They don’t say “cancer free” anymore because we all have cancer cells in us.  It’s just that we usually have very few, and our immune system takes care of them.)   So one possible path is to do – pretty much nothing - just monitor my blood levels and repeat the biopsies in three months.   What I have is an indolent, slow-growing condition. So, even if the remaining lymphoma has resisted radiation and is growing again, that growth is likely to be minimal, and the treatment in three months is the same thing he would do now. 

That treatment, the aggressive approach now, would be to do more radiation and/or use the drug retuxan, a non-chemotherapy anti-cancer agent that has been around for a long time, something he had mentioned earlier in my diagnosis.  

He left it to me to decide, although he said he would opt for the wait-and-see approach with one added element.  Even though I tested negative for the H pylori bacteria, which is usually associated with my condition, he thinks there is the possibility of a false negative.  So he would put me on a two-week course of a special antibiotic, which might hasten the shrinkage of the lymphoma.  I agreed to this course of action in which, as he explained, we are now waiting for my immune system to do its job.

So I’ll go back to weekly acupuncture and look into any other immune system boosting foods and activities.  Debby and I left the doctor and headed to Newsroom Café for a ginger-wheatgrass-spirulina-bee pollen- mango - and banana shake. Mmmm.  If you’ve got diet/activity suggestions or want to join me for a green drink or some exercise, I’d love to have the company.

A little something more

 

These are pictures from the inside of my stomach.  Fun?

It's been an anxious month of waiting (nothing new) as I planned and then had an endoscopy and colonoscopy to confirm results from the PET scans. The scans had seen nothing in my stomach or in my small intestine and shown some mysterious "activity" in my lower bowel.

The visual inspection of my stomach and colon was good.  While I still have evidence of a hernia and did show a little scarring consistent with radiation therapy, there was nothing else of note visually.  The procedure itself was uneventful. 

I received the pathology report this morning. Everything in my colon was negative, but in my stomach they did find a small piece of MALT lymphoma remaining.  It's unclear what the next course of action will be.   Originally, I was told they wanted to wait six months before doing the follow-up endoscopy because it just takes that long for the radiation to work fully.  They did the endoscopy after three months because of the mysterious "activity" in my bowel.   So the course of action may well be to do nothing and repeat the biopsies in six months.   Alternatively, there is an antibiotic treatment that may be indicated.  There may be a small dose chemotherapy agent indicated.  They may want to do more radiation -- or some combination of these.

I got this information from the gastro doctor who did the biopsies.  He had limited information and referred me back to the oncologist, whom I will see Wednesday afternoon.  So more information should be forthcoming then.  In any case, the mass is a slow growing (or slow-shrinking) issue, and there are still many tools available.  So, while disappointed in the moment, I remain confident of a full recovery.

I confess to being perhaps overly optimistic and to backsliding on my diet and self-care in recent weeks.  So it's time to get back on the horse of aggressively healthful nutrition, more regular exercise, and more spiritual focus on my own healing.  I invite participation from friends and family on all three counts.  Thanks. 

Encouraging News

Happy New Year! 

Today – to the sounds of a famous Mozart piece – I had my follow-up CT and PET scans to track the effect of the treatment thus far.   It is not unusual for the treatment to take up to six months to eradicate the errant tissue.   So this is generally a first look to see some initial movement in a positive direction.

While the medical staff at Tower Oncology is still prompt, courteous, and top-notch in all ways one might judge a medical facility, the process of these scans is not pleasant. Having ceased exercise for 48 hours, given up carbs & sugar for 24 hours, and fasted since breakfast, I was in a restless mood already when they handed me the first of my Grande, berry-flavored barium shakes. Three different people asked me what flavor I wanted from a choice of banana, orange, mint, berry, and mochaccino. Honestly, I can’t imagine it makes a difference. The stuff is ghastly.

As I finished downing my first liter, they shot me up with the radioactive dye and deposited my radiant self in a private waiting room to complete downing a second liter of barium. Then, filled with radioactive iodine, I was directed into the scan room and left to lay still for the 40-minute scan process. I was woozy, bloated, and irritable as I left the facility to join Debby for the special weekday treat of lunch and a movie.  Some decent food lifted my mood. As before, I was deemed still too radioactive to be around small children for about six hours.

I have an appointment with the oncologist next week, but in the middle of the movie he called to give me some preliminary results. While some blood tests have not yet come back and more study of some results is warranted, the CAT scan, which shows anatomy, came back completely negative. This is good news, and not entirely surprising as the CAT scan I had right before starting radiation treatment was also negative.

The PET scan was negative in the area of my stomach as well as in the lower intestine area that previously had lit up with mysterious “activity.” More good news. The doctor would not say that the MALT is already completely gone as biopsies are necessary to confirm this, but it is certainly encouraging. The PET scan did, however, light up in a new area in my lower bowel. This could mean there is cancerous activity; it could mean I have some minor inflammation or infection, or it could have another explanation. It is not conclusive, and, at least at this time, not of terrible concern to the oncologist. He will wait for all the data to come in and to consult with my gastro dr. I think it’s likely I have a colonoscopy in my future. That fancy double-balloon procedure is not indicated at this time.

Through this process I have been a believer in pursuing and receiving all forms of healing. Whether there is quantitative proof of value or not, I can say that all the energy, prayers, and generosity of friends, have lifted my spirits. If you are open to the possibility that there is power in “spirits” in either physical or psychological ways, then these efforts have been extremely powerful for me. I am living on a loving plane of gratitude for all that I have received. Thank you all. May I be a river to pass on this bounty of healing energy to all of you.

More news soon . . .