You didn't really expect me to take this topic seriously, did you? :)
UPDATE — THANK YOU for getting this on the REC list yesterday! Regardless of topic, you never quite know what will catch people’s attention. And thank you for all the well wishes and positive vibes!
The plan currently is for me to continue to travel up to Mayo Clinic every 2 weeks for blood tests and meetings with someone on my oncology team (I have to go up anyway because of the HAIP, it has to be refilled with at least saline every 2 weeks to prevent it from burning out. Eventually, once they decide I don’t need to come up every 2 weeks, they can fill the pump with glycerine instead and the pump will empty more slowly and I’ll only need to make the trek once every 6 weeks).
We’re keeping an eye out for new treatments coming online all the time, in fact the oral drug I’m being put on was approved by the FDA not that long ago.
Some of you no doubt recall that I have been battling Stage IV cancer for awhile now (3rd year anniversary of my diagnosis is coming up in March). Back when I was diagnosed, I was given a 50/50 chance of making it 2 years, so — I can’t complain too much about the time I’ve had.
I’ve had two major surgeries and underwent various IV chemo treatments, my 2nd surgery involved implanting an HAIP (Hepatic Artery Infusion Pump), a pump that sent chemo drugs directly to my liver to treat my tumors there.
Sadly, I’m now to the point where IV chemo drugs are no longer effective and my treatment is now moving to some less effective oral drugs that most likely will halt the progress for a time, but otherwise not roll back the cancer spread. In other words, we’re finally seriously moving into the “buying me as much time as we can” phase.
I applied for disability through my employer’s insurance back in December and am still awaiting a determination (thought the outcome is pretty certain that it’ll be approved). I’ve been blessed with the ability to continue to work and function pretty normally throughout my experience — my chemo side effects have not been severe enough or of a type that would prevent me from working, and I enjoy my job (I’m a school librarian, as some may recall). And to be honest, being able to work has been a boost in my morale and kept my spirits up.
Speaking of morale — I’m fine. I came to grips with my mortality a long time ago, and a dark sense of humor is a big help (for some reason, my wife doesn’t think the cemetery will let me install motion-activated speakers on my crypt. Bummer. Recording “Let me out!” or “Is it dark yet? I’m hungry!” or “Braaaaaains!” and similar such comments would be such fun. Sigh. People are so boring.)
Mrs. Witgren is taking the news pretty hard, though. She’s kept an optimistic outlook throughout and is struggling with the news. That’s really the hard part for me. She’s grappling with the whole philosophical “why is a good person like me dying so young when people like Trump live such long lives?” and things like that. And of course that she doesn’t want to live without me.
Such is the way of the universe, though. No one said life was fair.
She doesn’t agree with my idea that after I’m gone, she needs to take the insurance money, go to some warm beautiful beach somewhere, and ogle the hot lifeguards.
Anyway, just wanted to get some personal news out there, as I know some of you that follow me have been aware of this for awhile. I’m still a long way from done, folks, so you’ll be seeing me around on DKos for awhile yet — a long while if I have any say in the matter, and I have no intention of going gently into the night, and I damned well plan on voting for Biden in November and seeing Trump get a few criminal convictions.
I guess I’d like to wrap up this diary with a couple quotes from Sir Terry Pratchett, one of my favorite authors, from his Discworld series book Reaper Man:
No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away, until the clock wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life is only the core of their actual existence.
(the character of Death speaks in ALL CAPS in the book series):
WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?”
Oh, and one last thing — don’t skip your regular health screening exams! My cancer was caught by chance, but had I not skipped getting my first regular colonoscopy when I turned 50 (in my defense, it was during the heart of the COVID-19 pandemic when people where avoiding going out or going to hospitals and clinics, and I figured “hey, I’m only 50 and in good health, if I wait a year or so to get this done after this pandemic blows over, no big deal, right?” Eight months later during an unrelated ER visit, the Dr. was on the ball and noticed a shadow on my liver in a scan and told me to get checked out. Stage IV Colon Cancer that had metastasized to my liver was the ultimate verdict when I did), who knows where my situation might be now?
