Sid Bacon

Eleven years ago today is a day I should think that few if any of us will forget. I sure hope not. I had a student in my undergraduate class who lost her father that day in the World Trade Center. It was a fairly large class and unfortunately I didn’t get to know this student very well, but I think of her each year on 9/11. There isn’t anything I can say about that tragic day that hasn’t already been said many times before. But I can talk about the tragedy of losing one’s life without the opportunity to say good-bye, to tell your loved ones how much you truly love them. I have written before that cancer generally provides you with that opportunity … a blessing that comes with the otherwise tragic diagnosis. Although cancer is certainly not necessarily a death sentence, it does make you pause and take a good hard look at your life and how you are living it. It helps you focus on the truly important aspects of life, your family and friends. My student and her father did not have the opportunity to express their love for one another that one last time.  Nor did they get to hug one another with the love and affection that can only come from knowing it is the last embrace. I am so fortunate to have this time – and we hope it will be a very long time – to express my love for those closest to me. I can only hope that I am not squandering my opportunity; I certainly want to do it “right”. Everyday I tell Cathy that I love her, and I hope and pray that she knows that is not just a rote saying, but that it comes from the depth of my heart. I don’t talk with Dan or Laura without ending our conversation by telling them I love them; I hope they, too, know that my expressed love is deep and profound, that it is rooted in a special love that exists uniquely between a parent and a child. Fortunately, there is plenty of love to go around, and I am happy to say that my love for Liz is growing daily – it is such a joy for me to see how these newlywed’s love has grown and is growing every day. I can’t wait to spend more time with her, because my love for her grows with each passing moment. 
 

My phone conversations with my parents and sister also end with an expression of heartfelt love. I am so lucky to have them in my life; they provide a tremendous amount of support. They always have and I am comforted to know that they always will. And what impresses me is that their support is stronger the more I need it. They are really there for me.
 

And I have a true sense of love for my extended family, those wonderful in-laws that I so fortunately inherited as part of my blessed marriage. My mother-in-law could not have been more supportive when our children were young … for example, hours of after-school “family math” kept them all entertained after school until Cathy and I could get home from work. We would have had a much more difficult time without Cathy’s parents living nearby, that is for sure. 
 

Further, I could not ask for better siblings-in-law. Obviously, you don’t get to choose them, but if I had had that opportunity to do so, they are just the ones I would have picked. They have shown their love and support throughout this entire ordeal. I hope they understand how much I love them.
 

And, finally, my two nephews … I get so much love and support from them, and I get so much joy out of seeing them with Laura and Dan.  These cousins share a tremendous amount of love for one another … it is incredibly heart-warming and satisfying to see how special this next generation is turning out to be.  And who would have thought … :)
 

And, as I hope you know, I sincerely appreciate the love and support I receive from each and every one of you. I can’t help but love you for it.  For now, I ask that the Team focus on a good outcome from tomorrow’s procedure. We hope and pray for an understanding of my pain and a resolution to it. I may not be able to post a journal entry tomorrow, depending on how I feel after the general anesthesia. If I don’t write tomorrow, I will definitely write on Thursday.
 

Stay tuned, and thanks for everything!

Cathy and I feel good about our visit to Mayo hospital yesterday. The surgeon who performed the endoscopic procedure was the same one who installed my stent back in February. People come from all over to have him be the one to perform this type of procedure. We were in good hands.
 

He felt that the pain was unrelated to the ulcer that I had (the best I can tell from the report, I think the ulcer may be healed … I’ll know for sure once I’ve spoken to the referring physician – the GI specialist with whom I have a good relationship). Instead, he felt it was related to the tumor on my pancreas. In particular, the change (increase) in pain may be related to a change in the way the tumor is pressing on my nerves. This change, in turn, is a result of a structural change in the tumor caused by the fact that part of the tumor has died as a consequence of chemotherapy … I can’t complain about that!
 

The surgeon performed a celiac plexus neurolysis … a procedure designed to provide permanent relief of chronic pain (which I certainly have) by blocking nerve pathways. One consequence of the procedure is that I might experience more pain for a couple days following the procedure … indeed, my pain is greater today than it has been lately … but in 80% of the cases there is long-term relief.  Things generally have been going my way, so I am optimistic that I will be among the 80% who achieve relief.  Time will tell …
 

Although that may solve the pain puzzle, it is not clear why I’ve been so nauseous lately.  I suspect, however, that it is at least somewhat related to the pain medication. Once we get the pain under better control, I think we’ll get the nausea under better control, too.
 

I am scheduled to resume chemotherapy this coming Monday.  I hope my pain has subsided some by then, and that I don’t have any nausea.  I haven’t felt nauseous the past two days, so I’m optimistic that I’ll feel good on Monday and will therefore tolerate the treatment better than I did a few weeks ago. I know this regimen is going to be more difficult for me, but the better I feel going into it, the better I’ll do. After all, although I breezed through the first regimen extremely well towards the end of the six months, I didn’t do nearly as well at the beginning, when I was sick and much weaker. 
 

I am feeling stronger today than I have lately (it helps not to be nauseous). Cathy and I went on a walk this morning, and the pace was pretty good. It was a far cry from the 14-minute miles I was doing about a month ago, but it felt faster than the 17.5-minute miles I was doing just a few days ago. I’m improving, slowly but (I hope) surely …
 

I appreciate all your concern and support. I feel we are making good progress in this fight. We’ll keep fighting as hard as possible. That is the only way we’ll win … and that’s the plan!

It is a beautiful day in Phoenix today … as it was yesterday.  The humidity is low and the morning temperatures are in the low 70s, with daytime highs in the mid 90s.  In other words, we are back to a dry heat, with hints that fall is not far away. I am certainly thankful for that! This cooler weather makes for much more pleasant walks in the morning, although walks with Cathy are always pleasant, regardless of the weather!  Today was certainly no exception.  We went on a brisk, 3-mile walk, and although I didn’t time it, it felt as though the pace was close to 15-min per mile.  I am so thankful that I am feeling stronger and thus able to go farther and to pick up the pace a bit. On the other hand, as I think about it, I enjoy our conversations and the overall experience so much that perhaps I should slow down...
 

My pain is significantly less today than it was yesterday.  And it may be less than it was immediately before the endoscopic procedure.  I still have residual pain, however, but am hopeful that it goes away in the next few days.  I just don’t know what to expect in terms of the time course of the celiac plexus neurolysis (nerve block) – will the entire benefit be immediate (after the initial spike or increase in pain I experienced yesterday), or will I see improvement over several more days? I’ve called the GI office at Mayo to ask about this, and someone is supposed to call me with an answer. In the meantime, I’ll be grateful for whatever relief I get.
 

I am very thankful that I have not been nauseous these past few days. It is not clear why all of a sudden I have gotten better, but I’ll certainly take it.  As a consequence, I have been eating more, and even have been gaining a little bit of the weight back that I lost these past few weeks.
 

All in all, I feel as though I am gaining strength as we move towards chemo on Monday. I am so thankful for that.  And I am optimistic that I’ll manage the chemotherapy better this time. I didn't handle it so well last time, although I wasn’t feeling all that well going into the treatment. Time will tell, of course, but I think it is important that I approach the therapy with a positive and upbeat attitude. It certainly can’t hurt …
 

I want you to know that I am so incredibly thankful for your support, as is Cathy. Your help in our fight against this awful disease means so much to both of us.
 

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. I will write again on Monday, while we are at Piper.

I hope you had a great weekend.  Cathy and I did.  One of the highlights was a trip to an ice cream specialty store in downtown Phoenix … just trying to gain some of that weight back!  And it worked … I have gained almost three pounds since I was here at Piper a couple weeks ago.  Perhaps we’ll add ice cream to our daily diet.  (Actually, Cathy has been making tofu/chocolate/peanut butter pies, which are absolutely delicious and really good for you, so that is more likely the reason I have been gaining weight … that plus having an appetite again. If the chemo doesn’t make me too nauseous, then I’ll be able to keep eating and gaining weight.  That is certainly the goal.)

My energy level has returned to where it was a few weeks ago.  For the past several days I have been going on 3-mile walks at a pace just under 15 minutes per mile.  I know the chemo will slow me down a bit, but I’ll do my best to keep up the distance and go at a pace that is as comfortable and fast as possible.  I think my exercise routine – though not at a particularly high level by most standards – is very beneficial to my recovery, so I’ll keep it up as best as I can.

My pain returned Friday afternoon, which is unfortunate, but it does not necessarily mean that the nerve block did not work.  The GI specialist at Mayo who referred me for the endoscopic procedure called me yesterday at home (yes, he actually called me on a weekend!). He was out of the country this past week, but just got back and wanted to touch base with me to see how I was doing.  He confirmed that my ulcer has healed.  And he was hopeful that the residual pain simply reflected inflammation from the procedure, which will go away over time.  How soon the inflammation will go away varies from one individual to another, so I’ll just be patient and hope that the pain ultimately goes away.  If it doesn’t, we’ll deal with the pain as best we can, using any and all tools that will work for us. 

Everyone at Piper has commented this morning on how much better I look today compared to when I was in a few weeks ago.  I certainly feel much better.  I am very optimistic that I’ll handle the chemo better as a consequence of feeling better right now, just before starting the regimen.  In some ways I am anxious (in an anticipatory way, not a nervous way) to see how this goes, as this is something we are going to be doing for the next six months, so it will be nice to get a sense of how we are going to be able to live, what we’ll be able to do, etc. over this six-month time frame. This round may not be a precise indicator, but I think it will be better at predicting the future than was the last round.  At least I sure hope so!

We are still waiting for the lab results before we start chemo.  I’m sure we’ll be starting sometime soon.  We will be here most of the day, and will return on Wednesday briefly to have the portable pump disconnected.

Assuming I feel well enough, I will write again tomorrow. If you don’t hear from me, you’ll know why …

Thanks for all your support.

I live at the forefront in the history of cancer treatment; so many advances have been made such that we now have hope when there otherwise would have been none. Yet, there is so much work that needs to be done … so much to learn and so much more hope to be given. I trust that I am contributing to the future by being a part of a clinical trial. I also trust that someday soon the chemotherapy drugs will target the cancer cells and leave the normal cells alone. It would certainly make going through chemotherapy more tolerable.

I am doing much better this time with the chemotherapy treatment than last time.  They scaled back the chemo dosage a notch (apparently essentially everyone is needing that) and gave me some stronger anti-nausea drugs via IV yesterday. Despite that and my own arsenal of anti-nausea drugs at home, I have felt somewhat nauseous, but at least I have eaten a little bit and kept it down.  I’m also sleeping a fair bit – an expected side effect and probably a good way to deal with the nasty chemicals in my body (and still dripping in as I write).

As you might imagine, I did not go on a walk this morning.  Maybe I’ll feel like a stroll tonight or tomorrow. I’m sure I can get Cathy to go along with my portable pump and me …

It was a long day yesterday at Piper. We were there from 7:00 AM to 4:30 PM. Cathy was there by my side the entire time, except when she had to run to the pharmacy to get some drugs for me. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

Thanks for reading my blog, for writing your comments, and for your overall support.  This is a tough time, but together we’ll get through it, though I can’t say the same for the cancer … it is not going to fare so well!