Sid Bacon

Thank you for the many posts yesterday to the guestbook.  Cathy and I sincerely appreciate the outpouring of support – it is truly overwhelming.  You all have been and continue to be so supportive.  What a Team!  My family and I could not be doing this without you.  It truly is a team effort … and, so far, a very successful effort indeed.  We remain incredibly thankful for the wonderful news we received yesterday.  We could not be more pleased.

I forgot to mention in yesterday’s blog that I weighed in yesterday at exactly my pre-diagnosis weight.  Although my weight can fluctuate a bit from day to day (and throughout any given day), it would appear that I’ve made up the entire 20 pounds I lost in mid-to-late January and early February.  Not bad!  As it turns out, however, my weight is distributed a bit differently now.  My waist is 1-2 inches larger than it was before we started this ordeal; the weight gain in my stomach is more or less offset by the decrease in my upper body muscle mass. I’ll take the pounds wherever I can get them, but I think it is high time for me to get back to working out with weights.  (This feeling of mine was confirmed yesterday by the nurse practitioner, who encouraged me to build muscle mass, noting that it would make me feel even better and stronger.) I hope I feel well enough through chemo to stay with a workout regimen.  I am motivated to do so, so I think I will. I’ll take it slow to begin with.
 

As it turns out, the weight gain has created somewhat of an ironic situation.  I used to worry about having enough weight to fit appropriately into my suit for Liz and Dan’s wedding; now I have to worry about being too big to fit into my suit (at least my pants) for Andy and Kate’s wedding later this summer … (In reality, I am not really worried about being too big for my britches … I can always take them to a tailor to have them let out a bit.  I’m just so happy to be gaining weight.)
 

I am feeling good today, thanks to my patches!  No pain or nausea.  Cathy and I went on a brisk walk (after my first breakfast), and then I cleaned the back patio and trimmed a couple branches from one of our trees in the front yard. (Phoenix has this wonderful service, which they offer on a quarterly basis, which allows residents to place big items (such as tree branches) out for pick up.  This happens to be one of those times of the year for bulk pick up, so I wanted to finish my yard work from Memorial Day weekend.  Slow but steady …) After Cathy’s run, we enjoyed breakfast (my second) on our back patio while finishing the newspaper.  It is a good thing we get up by 5:00 to beat the heat. 
 

I thought I would interpret the Ca19-9 test results for you.  A score in the normal range means that the tumor is turned off for now, or, in other words, it is non-active.  According to the folks at Piper, this is the best outcome they could imagine for me.  (As a reminder, my readings have progressed as follows: 192.6 (pre-chemo), 165.4, 65.7, 37.2, and now 24.9 after the first four months of chemo. Last month I was told that 37.2 was near normal; now I’m normal.)
 

I liken this fight against cancer as a war.  I think we will be fighting it for the rest of my life, in some way or another.  The cancer or the threat of cancer will never go away.  I am prepared for that.  I am so happy to say, though, that thus far we have won all the battles in this war.  Team Bacon is definitely ahead in this fight. We are winning!
 

Cathy, Laura, and I are going to go out for dinner tonight to celebrate (Heather, I have plenty of shoes!).  As we toast my progress, we also will toast our many family and friends who are in this fight with us.   We feel the strength of numbers; we feel the strength of your support.  Good vibes are being felt. Prayers are being answered.  I ask for your continued support as we fight this war.  I know I can count on you; you have been with me every step of the way.
 

I hope you have a great weekend.  I’ll write again on Monday.

With temperatures expected to hit a brutal 112 today, Cathy and I went our separate ways at 5:30 this morning; she ran, I walked.  We still didn’t really “beat the heat”, as it was nearly 90 degrees at that time.  If you are going to exercise outdoors in Phoenix in the summer, you better get up early.   It is supposed to be nearly that hot all week … I think I may start walking even earlier, before the sun starts to rise.  I am happy to say that I am planning to jog a portion of my route in the near future, but I may wait until it isn’t quite so hot.  It will be nice to get back to running, even at a slow pace.  Progress is progress, at whatever pace. 
 

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend.  I certainly did.  Cathy, Laura, and I went out to eat Friday night to celebrate my good test results.  The dinner was more or less compliments of Dan and Liz, who had given Cathy and me gift certificates to this particular restaurant in appreciation for the few things we did for their wedding.  It would have been even better if Dan and Liz could have been there, but Dan did call when we first got to the restaurant, so I got to talk with him … it was like he was there with us.  I didn’t celebrate too late into the evening, as the chemo from Thursday made me tired (in truth, I conked out on the couch in front of the TV well before 9:00 PM).  Pretty amazing … the only acute side effect from the chemo that I’ve been experiencing lately is slight fatigue.  I feel very fortunate.
 

Cathy got together with some friends from work Saturday night, so Laura and I were on our own.  Thank goodness for left-over Tofu Tacos.  After dinner, Laura and I watched a few episodes of a TV show that we streamed via Netflix.  The show is called “Damages”, and it stars Glen Close.  It is quite good; we really enjoy it.  Cathy and I had already seen all the available episodes some time ago. Laura had just a few more episodes herself to watch, so she and I watched them together.  Well … that is not quite true.  I watched a little bit, but then Laura watched me sleep on the couch (again!). I’m a pretty boring date.
 

Earlier in the day on Saturday I worked out a little bit with weights, and will do so again today.  It is good to have a day of rest in between work-outs.  I’ll take it slow … after all, I don’t want to get too tired … who knows what time I’d fall asleep on the couch?
 

I had a wonderful Father’s Day.  Cathy had gotten me three fantastic tickets to yesterday’s Cirque du Soleil performance.  After much thought, I decided to take Cathy and Laura with me!  The show was impressive, though a little nerve-wracking during some of the acrobatic stunts.  After we got home, I had a nice phone conversation with my dad (and mom), and then we settled into watching the Thunder-Heat basketball game.  I hadn’t slept well the night before, so, you guessed it, I took a little nap during the second quarter of the game.  Cathy prepared an absolutely delicious meal (I woke up to eat!). After the (somewhat disappointing) game, I opened several extremely thoughtful presents from Laura and Dan.  They are so good to me, in so many ways.  Little do they know that their presence in my life is the greatest gift that they could ever possibly give me.  And the gift of the title “Dad” is something I’ll always cherish.  The only way the day could have been better is if Dan would have been with us.  However, he was just starting his honeymoon in Costa Rica, so I’d say he had a pretty good excuse.  Plus, he was definitely with us in spirit. 
 

It was nice to have a couple weeks off from chemo earlier this month.  But I must admit, I enjoy being at Piper and I definitely gain strength from my interactions with staff and other patients there.  Those interactions are an important part of my healing process.  In the same way, my interactions with you are critical to my progress in this fight against cancer.  I know that I am not fighting alone. I gain incredible strength from you, for which I am eternally grateful.

This is the second week in a row that I am spending some time in my office at ASU.  It feels good to work in a different environment, visit with colleagues, etc., but nice that Cathy has the flexibility to leave early and work at home, in case I get too tired.  Indeed, I think today will be one of those days.  I seem to be a little more tired after this round of chemo than I have been after the most recent past rounds.  It is certainly not anything to worry about; I just need to take it easy when I get tired.  I am pretty attuned to my body and what it is telling me.  I know how to respond (nap on the couch … see yesterday’s blog).
 

I am excited to be going to lunch with one of my friends today.  Linda was a fellow dean in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences.  Our offices were next to one another for four years.  We worked closely together, along with a few other colleagues, running the largest college at the largest university in the country. It was fun and meaningful work.  Linda and I haven’t seen each other for several months, so it will be great to get caught up.
 

I recently started a new book, which I highly recommend.  It is called “The Emperor of All Maladies:  A Biography of Cancer” by Siddartha Mukherjee. My friend Teresa recommended it to me; thanks Teresa!  Dr. Mukherjee won the 2011 Pulitzer Prize in general nonfiction for this book.  It is quite a tour de force.  Mukherjee is an oncologist and researcher, although the book is written for a lay audience.  It truly is fascinating, a real page turner. 
 

As some of you know, I am an editor for one of the journals published by the American Speech-Language-Hearing Association (ASHA – the acronym was in place before “Language” was added to the name).  ASHA publishes several journals, and has a Publications Board that consists of editors and non-editors alike.  We meet at the National Office in Rockville, Maryland every spring, and then again at the annual ASHA conference in November in whatever city is playing host.  I missed the most recent Pub Board meeting in Rockville this past month.  The trip coincided with chemotherapy treatment, and it wasn’t clear that a trip across country for a two-day meeting was the best idea for me at this point in time anyway.  A few days after the meeting, one of my colleagues sent the picture which I’ve included in today’s blog. Shown here are members of the Pub Board, as well as a few of the ASHA staff members involved with publications.  I can’t tell you how much it means for me to receive these kinds of well-wishes.  Moreover, it is great that people genuinely care about one another, and that they take time to show how much they care.  I hope I can be the kind of person that reaches out to others, to provide the kind of care and support that has been showered upon me.  It is so important. 
 

Thank you all for showing me how to live a caring life.  

I continue to feel good, and although I am very grateful for that, I need to focus even more on how wonderful it is to feel this good … I need to focus on this moment, this day, and not take any of my good fortunes for granted.  We all know that this is how we should live, but it is hard to do … I’m certainly not doing this as well as I should.  I will try harder.
 

I worked out with weights before my brisk early morning walk this morning.  I am starting to feel the consequences of my upper body workouts … just enough fatigue to know that I am doing some good, without over doing it. I am pretty sure I won’t be entering any muscle building competitions in the near future, however …
 

I enjoyed my lunch yesterday, as anticipated.  While waiting to be served, two former colleagues from the deans’ office stopped by our table to say ‘hi’.  It was great to see Peg and Stephanie.  I was so pleased that they came over to greet us and visit for a little while.  I truly miss the people I worked with when I was dean; they were unquestionably the best part of the job.  I will cherish and be forever grateful for their friendships.
 

Laura has her follow-up appointment this afternoon with the orthopedic surgeon. We are all anxious to know how her wrist is healing.  She is taking good care of it, the pain has subsided considerably, and thus we are hopeful that all is well.  Although I would never have wished this broken wrist upon her, I am grateful for the extra time we have had together.  It has been quite meaningful for me.  She is a fantastic daughter, so kind and caring, and certainly so good to her father. 
 

Cathy remains the rock of our family, through all the stress and challenges of our lives.  She does so much for us all, and without any hints of complaining. I don’t know how she accomplishes all she does, but she has always been that way, moving effortlessly and swiftly from one thing to another.  About the only thing she can’t do is make the Heat-Thunder basketball games end in a tie, as much as she would like both Laura and my teams to do well. Indeed, it appears that my Thunder is not likely to win this championship series.  For me, the sting of defeat is easily tempered by Laura’s delight in seeing her team win. 
 

I have been thinking a lot about hope lately, and I am sure I’ll write more about it another time. According to Wikipedia, hope is the emotional state which promotes the belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life.  Cancer dashes hopes, crushes them in their tracks.  Only with incredible strength and resilience can one stare down this disease and maintain a bright, or indeed any, hope for the future.  I gain strength from my family and friends, from all of you. That strength, in turn, bolsters my hope.  And, of course, my recent test results give me even more reason for hope. 
 

Today I have hope for tomorrow.  I am realistic, though, and understand that I must continue to fight in order to hold on to that hope. I must continue to work with my medical professionals to enact the best possible care for my body. And I must continue to work with you to keep my spirits as high as possible.  Cancer is a formidable foe, but Team Bacon is up to the challenge.
 

I am not fighting this disease alone; our partnership strengthens my hope for a successful outcome.  Thank you.

I have today, and it is beautiful.  Oh, sure, it is going to be hot (111 degrees), but that isn’t what I’m focused on or even thinking about (well, okay, I am thinking about it a little bit …).  No, there are many reasons that this is a beautiful day that should be cherished, and appreciated with the utmost gratitude.

I feel good, no pain or nausea.  I had a very enjoyable walk this morning, although I certainly missed the pleasure of Cathy’s company.  It is funny, although we have plenty of opportunities to talk – and we do – there is something special about being on a walk together, with no other distractions. It encourages conversations that may not blossom otherwise.  On the bright side, when I walk alone I have the opportunity to think, to get lost in my own thoughts.  Although occasionally I found my mind wandering, dancing away from the day at hand, I am happy to say that I generally remained focused on the beauty of this day, and gave thanks for all I have been given. 

I went a bit farther on my walk today, in part because I was feeling so good but also in anticipation that I might not feel like going as far tomorrow, the day after chemotherapy.  But who knows, I’ve been weathering the chemo storm quite well lately, so I may go on an especially long walk tomorrow as well.  And the longer walks give me even more time to think, and to appreciate more fully the blessings I have been given.  Nothing like exercising the mind and body at the same time …

I am grateful to be going to Piper later today (I’ll finish my blog from there), and am hopeful that I will be having chemotherapy this afternoon.  I am actually quite confident that my platelet count will be over 50,000, given where it started last week (124,000), and indeed will be shocked if it isn’t. As you know, it is important to me that I receive chemo as often as possible, to fight this fight with all the weapons we have available. 

It is a beautiful day when I get to spend the entire afternoon with Cathy.  Her presence during my evaluations and chemotherapy provides an invaluable level of comfort ... and pleasure.  I feel well enough to go alone, but I don’t think she allows that possibility even to cross her mind.  She wants to support me; and I need her support. 

I am now at Piper, sporting my new shirt that I got from Dan for Father’s Day.  I have gotten a lot of compliments about it.  It is perfect for chemo days (and any other day, for that matter).  It is long-sleeved (perfect for when the air-conditioning is just a bit too chilly in Piper), button-downed (perfect for easy access to my port for delivering the chemotherapy drugs), and embroidered with “Team Bacon” above the pocket (just plain perfect).  I may wear it every time I’m scheduled for chemo.

My platelet count was an astonishingly high (for me) 112,000, so we will have chemo again today. Hooray!  I am very thankful to be receiving treatment.

I am now mid-way through the 5th cycle of chemotherapy (where one cycle is three weeks on, one week off).  The protocol calls for six cycles of this first regimen before switching to the next one for six cycles (with the new regimen, however, a cycle is one week on, one week off, one week on, and then one week off).  But the protocol also says that you can switch from the first regimen to the second one if the tumor marker is normal, which it is. They have not been in this position before, so they are now discussing whether or not to bypass the 6th cycle and switch me to the new regimen sometime in July.  The medical professionals involved in this study are talking to one another, trying to decide what to do.  We should know the plan within a week.

I am thankful for all my progress, and thankful for your support.  It all makes for a beautiful day.