Or at least that's what it looks like I'm saying in front of Multnomah Falls in the Columbia River Gorge this week. The "it" in this case is the Erbitux treatment that I started two weeks ago. After two treatments, my CEA tumor marker has dropped to the lowest reading so far, from 52 down to 23! I'm naturally thrilled that I'm back on track in reducing the number so quickly - I can't wait to see what the next reading is in two weeks. A big shout out to my oncologist, Dr. Phil Gold at Swedish Hospital for calling me with the number as soon as he got it - he is as excited as I am. I still have the wonderful acne-like rash, but it appears to have calmed down a bit and my face has cleared a bit so my modelling career will be back on track soon :) .The picture is courtesy of my brother Mike, who was out visiting us with his wife Jean this past week. We spent a few days in Portland OR, staying at the McMenamin's Edgefield Manor and enjoying the scenery, with a little sightseeing and shopping. A good time was had by all.
I had an interesting conversation this week with another patient while in the waiting room of the treatment clinic. After the usual icebreakers of "What kind of cancer do you have" and "How long have you been getting treatment" (which are lines which just don't work very well anyplace else), we determined that we both had colorectal cancers with liver mets ("cancer-speak" for metastases) and then got on with our conversation. She has a much different approach toward her treatment than I do - she doesn't need to know all the details on what drugs she's receiving, and that seems to suit her just fine. She has adult children who track all the details and let her know when something is important. Every patient has their own approach for dealing with cancer and I'm glad that we all seem to somehow manage to find ways to deal with it.
One approach to dealing with cancer that I'm truly enjoying is a book of cartoons by author Miriam Engelberg called "Cancer Made Me A Shallower Person". Miriam was a breast cancer patient who passed away last October. She managed to chronicle her experiences as a patient with this collection of the observations, thoughts, and absurdities that patients experience from diagnosis through completed treatment in a cartoon format. It's wickedly funny, and has made me wonder if I can actually use my still numb fingers to scrawl out a cartoon panel or two myself. You can view some of her cartoons at her website: http://www.miriamengelberg.com/
The book is available at that big on-line book seller with the name of a big South American river, or you can have your local bookstore order it for you. Happy reading!
