Today consists of another visit with my wonderful oncologist, along with blood work and chemotherapy. It’s the first time Tim has been to the doctor with me in quite a while. Maybe two years? First, he stopped coming due to Covid, then it became more of a habit, and too convenient to drop me off (or he was out of town). Finally, MD Anderson opened up and started allowing one person to accompany patients. They even took away their plastic shields.
This was also my first visit since my scans back in February. I wasn’t concerned. Well, maybe a little. But, if there was an issue he would have called me. The dude never sleeps. No news is typically good news, especially with such a great doctor. He continues to tell me how well I am responding to the treatment, and he is pleased with my progress.
All my scans look good. You don’t have to read any further to know my body is still stable. Having said that…
They always see evidence of cancer in my bones. Likely it is where the cancer was and not is. Cancer eats away the bone, and therefore my bones are always a concern. Bone density shows I have osteopenia (which I have had for several years). He is referring me to a bone specialist downtown just to make sure we aren’t missing anything. (Add another specialist to the list!) He doesn’t think it will change any of the treatment, but this is their speciality so…It might impact how often, or if, I get the Zometa.
The CT scan did find a new spot in the space between my lung and lining of the lung. It is less than 5 mm. The tip of a pencil is about 2-3 mm, so that tells you how small it is. If I wasn’t getting scanned all the time, we would likely not even know this exists. There is nothing to do with it, except watch it to see if it grows. It could be anything. Left over from an infection. Cancer. Benign something or other. Who knows? It’s too small to biopsy, and even if it was negative this would not change anything. The radiologist impression basically says to watch it.
We had a lengthy and entertaining discussion about Covid, Dr. Fauci, the CDC, wearing masks, and other life events. Of course we also talked about my treatment, and when to know if someone is “cured” from metastatic disease, etc. And we pondered whether to stop treatment, or if I am even a candidate to *ever* stop treatment.
Researchers will likely never know how long we should be on Arimadex, Herceptin and Perjeta. The reason for this is multi-faceted. Our population is small. Also, due to the complexity of the disease there is an inability to do effective research. Would you be willing to participate in a randomized sample, where you may be in the group who stops treatment, just to see if your disease progresses?
Um…no thank you! So, the research will never be done. Who would participate in a study like that? We will likely never know if, or when, we can stop treatment.
Bottom line. I will never be considered “cured” because there is always going to be evidence of disease in my system. (I suppose the Lord could completely heal my bones and evidence would disappear. But I will accept whatever He does.)
We concluded I will never stop treatment, because even if I don’t have disease showing up in my system the treatment is keeping it asleep.
He did remind us to live life. Don’t worry about missing a dose if we go on a lengthy vacation, etc. Don’t do it on a regular basis, but don’t let treatment prevent you from visiting places like Australia. If they ever open up enough for us to get in.
Oops! I need to go put on my Lidocaine cream. Almost time for treatment!
À la prochaine…See you next time!