Category Archives: The Cancer

Didn’t really know what to write about. So I thought I’d ramble for a bit:

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There was one bit of mildly concerning news that arose from our visit with the oncologist, and that would be the continued issues with my white blood cell counts. Even with the Neupogen injection I receive for 5 days after chemo my WBC count was only at 3.0 k/u when I went in for chemo again on Wednesday. This is still well below the normal range, though I guess it’s an improvement over the 1.5 k/u that it was at after my first treatment (which was the impetus for putting me on the drug). In fact it’s twice as good. Even so, the doctor indicated that it’s still an underwhelming result and if it does not show signs of improving before my next treatment on the 24th, then she will consider taking some additional action, including extending the injections for a few additional days after treatments. I’m really hoping that it won’t come to that because as it is,  those injections will really start to take their toll by the time Monday and Tuesday roll around. So hopefully the same magic that suddenly caused my blood to clot in a more normal way will take effect on my white blood cells production now.

One thing that should help is exercise. The doctor is encouraging me now to start to exercising as regularly as possible and for at least 30 minutes a day if I can. Initially it was recommended that I not exercise much at all since the goal was work towards putting weight on me and keeping it on, and they didn’t want to anything to derail that effort. But now that I am back up to a normal weight for myself she would like to see back on an exercise plan to get my cardio back up (it’s pretty sad right now) and prevent further muscle loss.

I had pretty much forgotten how thin I had become when this all started. I’m back up now to a normal weight for me, I was 148 when I checked in for chemo on Wednesday, but when I was diagnosed almost 2 months ago I was in the low 130′s putting my Body Mass Index (BMI) squarely in the “Underweight” category. This week though, I was reminded twice how much better I guess I’m looking now. When we went and saw the show I was supposed to be in on Sunday, we stuck around to talk to people afterward I was approached by my good friend Trish who was firstly surprised to see me, and secondly told me right away how good I looked and that I had put on some much needed weight. Trish and I did a couple of shows together last spring and summer. Her comment sort of surprised me at first as I didn’t really realize that I had looked underweight during that time though in hindsight that makes alot of sense. That was the period of time when my cough and other symptoms first developed and when I first started having inclinations that something wasn’t quite right (of course I ignored everything for another month or two).  Still, it was interesting for me to hear that perhaps I was in worse shape than I thought I was, even back then.

The other person to comment on my physical appearance was my doctor. Although we’ve spoken several times I hadn’t seen her in 5 weeks, and the first words out of her mouth when she passed us in the hall before the appointment was that I looked better. I guess 5 weeks and 15 pounds make a big difference.

What’s funny is that a few weeks before my diagnosis I even commented here on the blog about how scrawny I seemed to be. I had posted some pictures of my friends and I golfing in Hawaii and I included a picture of myself with the caption “It’s not often that I see a profile picture of myself. I ALWAYS forget how scrawny I really am.” Looking back through more of those pictures of me from our Hawaii trip this summer, and I have to admit that I’m looking pretty thin, and I still had a few weeks to go before I’d get to my worst. Thankfully there aren’t to many pictures of me at my low point.

It’s actually kind of hard for me to go back and look at some of those pictures of happier times, especially those golfing pictures. About a week after I was diagnosed my dear friend went into the hospital and has only recently started his own long journey of recovery. It’s hard to think about how long it will be before the 3 of us are all healthy enough to get back on the course again, but I already look forward to it, and in fact I think about that day almost every day. I’ve already decided that the two us who are (or hopefully, were) sick are going to ride in a golf cart. Dane can walk!

That’s probably enough rambling for now. On Monday or Tuesday I’ll post some pictures of this chest port that I have in me now. I wanted to wait a few days so that I could get some good progression photos of the bruising. The bruise is about 2-3 inches across and is responsible for most of the “tightness” that I described the other day, but it feels much better today than it did yesterday. I was initially concerned that there might be a problem since the bruising seemed much worse than I was prepared for, but the doctor put my concerns to rest when she basically told me “Meh, I’ve seen much, much worse” =)

Hairloss

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As each week passes by, I grow more and more confident that my hair loss has peaked and that I might not look like a cancer patient to people who wouldn’t know that I’m sick. I might be fooling myself, but I don’t even think it looks that bad, or at least I should say that I think that I might even be pulling it off. By “pulling it off” all I hope is that if you saw me walking down the street you wouldn’t think that I looked weird, or that I was sick at all. It’s certainly pretty patchy in places on the top of my head but overall I think that just enough hair has remained to just make it look like I might be losing my hair at young age. Or that I just joined the military.

What’s strange though is how chemo is continuing to effect the rest of the hair on my body. I haven’t shaved my face in almost a month now, and all that has grown is that time is a very fine “peach fuzz” as if I was 12 again. I’ve never been known for my facial hair growing prowess, quite the contrary in fact. Normally the only facial hair I would be able to grow is a weak mustache that creeps my wife out after a few days, and then some scraggly hairs around the front of my chin, but even that has failed to appear in the last few weeks. Unfortunately it does however continue to grow on underside of my chin and on a bit on my neck which is starting to show signs of the ever popular “neck beard.” She hates it so much! But I can’t see it so it’s doesn’t really bother me.

Additionally I’ve also started to lose most of my leg hair. There is still a bit on the front of my shins, but Christine is growing increasingly jealous of the smoothness of my calves and the sides of my lower legs. Between the smooth face, and hairless legs, it’s like I’m a becoming a freshman on the High School Swim Team. It’s kind of an odd place to be in.

I am happy to report though that the dozens of chest hairs that I’ve managed to grow in my (almost) 29 years have remained in place and thusfar have not shown any signs of abandoning their posts. I take great comfort in this for some reason.

I think the “mourning period” is over

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It only took 2 months.

I don’t know how to describe it, but in the last few days I sort of “got over it” or to put it in a more NSFW term that we use often: I “un-fucked myself.” What I mean by this is that while I’ve had a pretty good attitude and have kept a generally positive persona about this “whole cancer thing,” I feel like I’ve still let it dominate and mandate the decisions and choices that I’ve made over the last 2 months. This isn’t something that surprises me, it is kind of a big deal after all, but still I can’t help but feel like I’ve let it take over my life. I think I’m done with that now. I can’t ignore the fact that I’m sick, but I think I’m done letting it completely dictate what I do or don’t do.

Christine started noticing it first in the small things. Last night for example we were out and she noticed that I was walking at a faster clip than she was, closer to the pace of life that I used to move at. She commented I must be feeling better since I was walking at my normal speed again, and that made me stop for a second. I checked in and realized that I didn’t particularly feel any better, in fact Monday through Wednesday after chemo are actually some of my most physically uncomfortable and achy days of the cycle, it’s just that at some point I’d sort of accepted it. It’s not going away anytime soon, there isn’t anything that I can particularly do about it, so why should I let it slow me down or stop me anymore.

And boy, has it ever. I keep surprising myself when it comes to my physical abilities, or rather inabilities. I get an idea that I’m going to do something simple like laundry, but its shocking to me how quickly I find myself becoming fatigued. My hope is that it’s more from the damage that I’ve done to myself by not being at all physically active over the last few months, and not the disease, or rather the treatment , that’s been the source of my continued weakness. And that could be case, only time will tell, but at least for this week I feel like I’m ready to start moving forward again in a big way.

It’s either that, or maybe I just woke up feeling oddly ambitious today, and this is how it’s manifesting itself. Either way, I’ll let it carry it me for as long as I can.

The Winter Pineapple Classic 2010

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I’m finally getting around to get these pictures posted.

As I mentioned earlier in the week, on Saturday Christine and I headed up to the hills with Sage and Maggie for The Winter Pineapple Classic, a 5K in North Bend. It was another fundraiser for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. We’ve started to notice that there are a lot of these around, and that most of them are 5K’s or Stair Climbs or whatnot. We think it has something to do with the fact that these “blood cancers” tend to strike young people, so the fundraisers tend to get started around  activities and active lifestyle stuff and whatnot. Something for people to get out and DO. Or it could just be a coincidence.

But I digress. The four of us met up with a few others in North Bend. Christine and Maggie’s (and Ryan’s) trainer Kailyn, his husband, and a couple of their friends.

Team Lange

Shortly before the race started Tanya arrived to hang out with me while the others were running.

The team was in the second wave of the day at 9:15. The event started at 9:00am and scheduled start times were every fifteen minutes until noon. There were a ton of people there when we got there and there were a ridiculous number of people there when we left, and they were still rolling in. It’s a pretty big event! Last year there were over 3000 participants and they raised over $465,000 for the LLS. This year they were expecting to beat both numbers.

Here goes Wave 2:

There is a reason its called the The Pineapple Classic. Every team must carry a pineapple with them.

Starting off, grabbing the Pineapple

What was nice about this race is that it took place over a pretty wide open field, which meant that Tanya and I were able to freely walk around and watch them several times as they made their way around the course. We just cut through the middle.

OH, and I did I mention that it’s also an Obstacle Course !!!!

Not our people, but this was the first obstacle

Again, not our people, but you get the idea

Once Tanya and I figured out the layout of the course, we were able to put together a plan of attack in order to get ahead of them and cut them off at very points throughout the track. so instead of taking pictures of what they had gone through, we were able to get quite of few pictures of them going through the obstacles.

Stine posing for an 'action shot'

Teamwork required. Note the pineapple.

Team Lange

Team ''

It was a pretty fun event, and I was so relieved that it turned out to be a race that I could come “watch”. That was a unexpected surprise. I was pretty prepared to go sit in the car with Tanya for 20 minutes while they ran the race, but the venue was perfect to be able to run around and watch them progress through the course.

Already though, I can’t wait until I can participate next year. And the year after that. And the year after that. As each of these events come and go I can already see myself returning to them year after year. And each year I’ll think back on that first year, when I couldn’t participate because I had cancer, but now I can participate as an example to those who at one time like me, could not. It’s organizations like the LLS who have donated hundreds of millions of dollars to the cancer research. And because of the events like this I had a form of cancer that was treatable and curable. It will certainly keep me coming back, and will keep me donating to the LLS for life. Because of them, I can.

Highs… and Lows

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It’s almost too easy to talk about this journey as a series of highs and lows. Today was a perfect example. I got to spend some time with my friends Dane and Jessica (the High) but I ended the day feeling pretty low (the Low).

I sort of touched on  how I’ve been feeling in yesterday’s post, but I want to expand upon it today. As an overall, I haven’t felt too terribly bad during this latest round of chemo, but what’s been slowly wearing on me is the fact that I haven’t felt good either. I’ve just kind of felt sick for the last week. Not in an unbearable way, but its like its lingering just under the surface and won’t go away. It hasn’t prevented me from doing anything, but its just been a constant presence for the last week.

It actually started on Wednesday, the day we went in for chemo again. I was okay in the morning, but the nearer we got to our chemo appointment the worse I started feeling. By the time Tanya picked us up and we were on our way I was feeling genuinely nauseous. Even now thinking about it again I am starting to make myself a little ill. The nurse told me that I was basically describing “anticipatory nausea.” It’s basically what it sounds like. I know what I’m on my way to do. I don’t want to go. I know how it’s going to make me feel, and my body starts to react in anticipation.

It’s been almost a full week now, and that feeling has remained, like I said, just below the surface. Never really showing itself but at the same time never really going away. After a week it’s really starting to wear me down. My fear is that this is the real manifestation of continued treatment and that my body is starting to lose ground against the chemo drugs. When I talk about with people I describe it as diminishing returns, that with each subsequent treatment I am not quite able to get all way back up to a baseline level before I have to go back in and get another round of chemo. I’m scared that this feeling is going to get worse as the months progress and that eventually it won’t go away at all.

Also on my mind today is a friend who lost his father to cancer today. It was not unexpected, but I can’t help but feel the loss and take a moment to reflect on how much cancer sucks. I only met him once, but he was such a sweet man and he did have a lasting impact on me: to this day the image of him dancing with his wife at his son’s wedding knowing that he was terminally ill was one of the most touching moments I’ve ever see in my life. It brings tears to my eyes even thinking about it now. I know that our cancers were different, and that our journeys have little in common save for the  “c word” itself. But none the less, in the short time that I’ve lived with my own cancer I’ve felt an increasing connection and understanding with others who have lived, and who continue to live, with cancer in their lives.

Anyway, a lot on my mind tonight, and as such I’m feeling pretty blah. Christine has been amazing though. She worked all day and then came home and is now decorating the tree and hanging up the stockings while I lay here and type this. It just looks so beautiful.

Like I said, it’s a journey of highs and lows.

I should go, Christine just threw an entire glass of wine on the cat.