2013: The Year Cancer Kicked Back

Welcome to the oh so cliché Year in Review post. This is when good writers rehash some of their posts from the past year, essentially pulling off a long and hopefully entertaining column with relatively little effort. With that in mind, here we go...

The year began with some not-so-great news and some pretty good (Huey Lewis and the) News. We learned that the chemo routine I'd started in the fall wasn't doing much good. The cancer was still growing, albeit slowly. So, as Huey and I both said at the time, I want a new drug.

In February, I was nearly trapped in NYC, but pulled my best Snake Plisken and escaped.  We also decided on that new drug, Stivarga. It happened to be my most expensive oral drug to date, retailing for $11,000 a month. But it gave us some hope since it was a new approach to stopping the spread of my cancer.

March came in like a proverbial lion, with an ER visit that turned out to be a false alarm. Soon after, my hip and leg pain returned with a vengance. Scans confirmed that it was not a recurrence of cancer in my pelvis, which was of course my biggest fear. I finished off the month with an off topic post, explaining the Story of Passover, with a modern take.

Things were pretty quiet in my world in April, although I did debunk a couple of chemo-related myths, Amazing Randi style.

May brought a mixed bag of news. We learned Stivarga wasn't working - that's the bad part of the mix. The good part was meeting and becoming a patient of Metallica's personal Physical Therapist. Soon after, my pain diminished, and my guitar solos approached legendary status.

Things started getting a little dicey in June. During a trip to Johns Hopkins, we discovered what might have been a small clot in one of my lungs, and a whole bunch of fluid. The blog never really reflected it, but I started feeling pretty crappy and stayed that way for much of the summer. I had oxygen tanks with me 24/7, and generally started to look and feel like a terminal cancer patient. Spoiler alert - I got better.

By the end of July, I'd had another draining of the lungs, and had started on another new drug, Zaltrap. I started feeling better, and the scans showed why. No new growth. Had we finally found the magic bullet? Not really, as a magic bullet would reverse cancer's course, not just hold it at bay. But it was a step in the right direction.

I told the story of Sally (not her real name) in August. The story itself was inspiring, but it also inspired a whole bunch of people to try to guess Sally's real name. I had to point out that people at my kid's former school were barking up the wrong tree thinking it was a staff member there. The thing to remember from that story isn't Sally's true identity. It's the phrase "Bronze the Kayak!"

I spent much of September feeling like a lab rat. There's no better way to describe what it's like to participate in a drug trial, with its regimen of tests, dose administration, and scheduled bathroom breaks. We had high hopes for the trial, but my cancer became decidedly worse, and I dropped out of the trial. It was worth the risk, and I'm hoping to find a new trial again soon.

Most of the year, I was focussed on October 26th. That was the day of my twins' B'nai Mitzvah, and it was really important to me that I be in decent enough shape to enjoy their special day. It turned out perfectly. I was feeling good, they did a great job, and our friends and family had a great time too.

While I didn't post anything in November, I tried to explain in early December that I'd been in a pretty dark place, emotionally, much of the month. I'd lost a lot of weight, and I'd been having pain in my jaw that was pretty intense. Combined with all the routine side effects, I was pretty depressed. But I got some help working through it, and I've been feeling pretty good this month, physically and emotionally.

In December, I was reminded that I'm not in this alone. I wasn't referring to my supporters, as I hear from so many of you often in response to these posts and elsewhere. I meant that my treatment and my progress impacts my family just as much as it does me. My oldest son was upset to hear that I might be delaying treatment over the holidays, granting myself a six week break. He knew that it was during shorter breaks earlier in the year that things got worse, and he was scared. I talked to Dr. Z, scheduled what Marcie calls "chemo light," and made everyone happy, including myself.

The year ended with a tooth extraction, some reshaping of the exposed dead jawbone, and a soft food diet. Things could be worse...

Cancer took a few shots at me this year, and I was able to absorb its blows. I'm grateful for that, and for each of you reading this who keep me in your thoughts and prayers. I'm blessed with an amazing family. And lest I forget, Dr Z and his team, from the front desk folks to the techs, to the nurses, are the best there is. I'm in good hands.

Here's to 2014 - may it be a year of happiness, prosperity, and good heath for each of us!