Bring on another year

Not a day goes by without contemplation on how lucky I am to have made it this far and in this great a shape.  There is a dab of survivor's guilt when I see others, some much younger fall by the wayside and still others suffering from the side effects of chemotherapy while I enjoy the taste of food, good energy and full locks of lustrous hair. This will be my third New Year celebrated since my cancer diagnosis; each of them provoking me to wonder whether this would be the last.  I am very excited at the possibility of welcoming in four seasons, a year of new birthdays for family and friends, deep conversations over breakfast, experiencing new books and movies and perhaps old ones I have missed, births, new technology, scientific breakthroughs, and great stories of success from friends, family and acquaintances.  I may even skip the third "Hobbit" installment; something I worried about being around to see when the first installment came out back in 2012.

Yesterday I squeezed in my last doctor appointment and chemo treatment for the year, taking advantage of having maximized co-pays and deductibles for everything.  Alice was still in town  and came with me.  I had been a bit concerned because in the last week I had experienced some pokey pains in the liver region and was wondering if that was a signal of returning cancer activity.  But the "tumor marker" blood test had not spiked so we are assuming that it is still in check with the current treatment.  In fact, Dr. Krajewski had done a bit of investigation and found several doctors who were willing to apply this treatment even when platelet levels were as low as 50 (thousand) and so he is moving the regimen interval back to every two weeks (It has been every 4 weeks, recently) to see if we can can buy some chemo "off" time in the near future.  I am happy for this, as the alternative is to switch to a different regimen, likely one with worse side effects.

Alice also joined me in the chemo lounge for a while.  It is still an interesting place for people watching.  She observed that I appear to be a veteran already since all the staff know me (and vice versa) and I am aware of little idiosyncrasies about the place; where the electrical outlets are, beverage choices and locations, tech talk with nurses, how the bathroom sinks appear not to have hot water running through the pipes, protocol with the pharmacy, etc.  A few days earlier we had popped in for the aforementioned tumor marker blood test and the receptionist (Jen) had implored me to grab a gift bag that someone had donated to cancer patients at the center.  It felt odd to me to be lumped in to that group.  I imagined the gift bags were for those without hair, pale in color and walking slowly, clutched to a concerned love one.  I sheepishly accepted a bag that contained warm socks, a winter hat, Jolly Rancher candies and a rolled up fleece blanket.  (The latter has since been dubbed "the cancer blanket" and has been cuddled with by all who take a seat in our living room and spot it there on the arm of the sofa looking all cozy and comfortable.)  I am a cancer patient but I do not feel like one most times.

Alice introduced me to a trivia game for the iPad and we played that for a while before she switched to her book and I to the "Serial" podcast that she had turned me on to a week earlier.  I had brought headphones for this purpose and discovered it to be a wonderful way to pass the hours in that chair.

It was a great holiday filled with family and love and good food.  I'm looking forward to doing it all again next year.