Monday, October 16, 2006

10.16.06, Restaging Results: It's Your Cancer Talking

No Franky Scale today, especially since the restaging result will do something to show that the FS doesn't always cut through this situation at the best angle, give us the best cross-section of life to see "how it is" from. My cancer is progressing now. Just a simple answer, progressing. Progressive stage-IV cancer.

All the nodes that were enlarged before are now even larger. The liver tumors, larger. Pancreas, the mother tumor, larger. And the lungs, the small nodules that appeared not to be cancerous before, well, those are larger, too, so the new diagnostic approach might be "Go figure."

This is no artful telling of things. I just wanted to pass on the news and don't have the motivation at this moment to make up a more entertaining story. Besides, there are times when the simple straight-forward telling needs to be left to do its work.

Later I can write about what it was like to have my mom there, I was there with my mom and K, and about how the discussion with Whiting shifted gears slightly into more euphemism and circumlocution. Why do we all get the impression that she wants this? Does she? She and I had a pretty frank talk about it all after coming home — there's another scenario to knock your socks off, sit down with your mom and discuss dying plans, what actual bed you might want to kick off in, and who might be around.
What a day. More later, just thought I'd pass on this much.

[I also allowed that comment from an anonymous person about "glyconutrients," which are still on the docket, but you know, I have thought better of it and this is not the place for people's sales-pitch testimonials so I'm going to yank it. No offense to the poster. But the comment was just about how some product can change your life and that's actually offensive to shove that kind of so-called "hope" into the face of someone who is really, actually sick, despite a healthy salesperson's best of intentions.]

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Love for mr j.

love love love.

mme x