May 312017

They really are a static point in time that we pin some value on.  Birthdays are the same thing.  There is no intrinsic value to have them just a way to mark time off a calendar or track progress or what I like to do, reflect on the past, present, and maybe what the future may hold.

One year ago today, the day after Memorial Day, which happened to be May 31st – so there is an argument is an anniversary the day of the week something happened or the actual date something happened… ponder that for a moment – (and I have always wanted to say this), but I digress.  My anniversary could be considered today or tomorrow so I am going to pick both.  So, one year ago today I pulled up to this cluster of buildings on a hill in the wee hours of dawn to pop in for a little nip and tuck of my brain.  Even a year later I can remember the entire morning, the conversations (not verbatim but pretty good), the veteran pre-op nurse that gave me confidence, the transfer that put my IV in he worried me asking a bunch of questions and did not know how they normally do things (BTW that IV was uncomfortable during my entire stay), the THREE respiratory therapists I would have (that is what happens at a training hospital) and the surgical nurse with the dirty shoes.  I mean seriously dude, you are going to be in surgery with my BRAIN exposed, yah I know your feet won’t be anywhere near my brain BUT get some clean or newish shoes, I am sure you are well compensated.  They looked like he used them to walk through forest park to get there or uses them to mow the lawn.

While they ALL told me I would not remember any of this I sure did.  I chatted with the guys about Cycle-cross as they wheeled me to surgery.  The team in the room said to bring me in feet first as they wheeled me in head first so we had to back out and turn around.  I wiggled off the gurney to a freezing cold stainless steel table with this red ball to rest my head on.  The “don’t put him under, the table is not working” comment.  Me saying, “did you reboot it” – them saying “great the patient is telling us how to fix the table.”  My next comment, “is it plugged in?” as they are discussing how to replace the table with a new one, moving me to another room, where is the maintenance guy, followed by oh, it was not plugged in we are good, its working, you can knock him out now.

I wake up in recovery and feel pretty good.  I am very thirsty and hungry and my fear of being attached to a breathing tube is relieved.  Honestly that was my biggest worry waking up with a breathing tube jammed down my throat to have them pull it out while I was awake.  They asked if I wanted to call Jessie so I did.  The rest of the day was waiting to get a room, a post op MRI, a pig out on dinner, realizing my innards did not work yet, that dinner coming right back up and spending the rest of the night flowing in and out of  conscious.  Dilaudid gave me some wild dreams that still wig me out a bit.  Personally I did not like being on that stuff.

The rest of the week continued and I never ceased to amaze everyone with how well I was doing.  So now a year later and I still get that amazement but I cannot help but worry when is that amazement going to end.  I try to feel, act, be, as normal as everyone else but that is just not the case anymore.  There is always a reminder of this giant change in direction, no matter how I ignore it, won’t go away.  As I pull into the garage I hear on OPB about the writer Brian Doyle from Lake Oswego has just passed away. He was only 60 years old.  April Baer was reflecting on some interviews with him, some of his accomplishments, they even played a little reading he did back in 2010.  The book he was most known for was Mink River and that is when I realize who he was.  I remember that book from the Lake Oswego Reads program.  it was the summer selection from 2012 and I always wanted to read that book.  (Actually I think I have it and I think I started it on a trip somewhere – will have to look through the bookshelves)  I was sitting in the car listening to the story about him, just as it ended the OPB lady asked April about how he died.  He was diagnosed with Brain Cancer back in November and died yesterday.

So my one year anniversary gives me a lot to reflect upon.  I am very thankful for all my friends and family that have helped me through this.  The management at Con-way that supported my recovery so I did not have to live in fear of job issues.  The amazing recovery staff at OHSU and all the people that helped support us and our Team Food Baby fundraising for the tumor walk. To my sister Dianna taking great care of me during recovery and working around our house.  She was just as busy as a bee the whole time.  To Jessie for being my remember all and doing the worrying for me.  Plus, she had to haul me around as I still recovered from the vertigo that led to the tumor discovery in the first place.

I have made new friends along the way, Dr Jerry Jaboin who provides the encouragement I need and often reminds me, I am not a normal Brain Tumor patient. Jessica Morris, another Brain Tumor Survivor that is 5 months or so ahead of me.  She is showing me how to stay strong throughout this.  You can check out her blog here-> I find it interesting how the experience she had, while similar to mine, was quite different.  She had music during her radiation treatments but we both visualized those little tumor cells getting zapped.

While I have no idea what my “expected” life expectancy is anymore I know I have gone beyond the “google GBM life expectancy” search.  (EDIT: that is no longer true, last year it was 7.9 months, now it looks like 14.6 months so I have some time before that anniversary).  My plan is to have MANY more May 31st anniversaries, 9/9/2017 anniversaries, 12/5 anniversaries, 3/23 anniversaries….

you get the point

So on my first anniversary of an amazingly successful surgery I cannot wait to write about my second anniversary and how thankful I am!

May 042017

[for you TL/DR people: MRI was good next one in two months]

This has gotten so mundane that I don’t even post about it anymore.  Life just plugs along with the daily inconveniences of wearing sticky, itchy, annoying pads on my head.  I am sure they will be even worse when it gets hot in summer.  I had a great visit with Jessica Morris in NYC.  She is a few months ahead of me and is an Optune wearer.  She had problems with the pads overheating in the summer last year.  So another thing to look forward to.

My Aunt Chemo still comes to visit for 5 days every month and she love to bring along the constipation just to let me know she loves me.   Jessie and I have gotten better at dealing with this little gem and it has gotten better each round of Chemo.

So onto the good stuff.  The MRI went fine – soon I will be able to sleep in that clicking, clacking, booop booop booop tube.  There are two machines they seem to put the brain people in.  The one I had today must be a slightly different model since the tests sound and feel different.  The technician was new and she asked if I get these once a year – HA!  I counted all of the times while I was in there and I am pretty sure I am up to 12 now, 11 of those at OHSU, 1 at Providence when they found the tumor.  I really don’t remember that one much since I was so drugged up from the vertigo.

Today was the first time I actually got to see my scans the same day as my scan.  There are two types of images they use to “read” MRI’s.  The contrast is what they use to see if tumor is regrowing.  The good news there is it does not look like it.  Plus there are these two open areas called the ventricles. that run down the middle lower part of the brain.  My Doctor told me when a tumor starts growing it pushes good brain mass aside and that often squashes into the ventricle.  Mine looks great so it does not look like anything new is growing.

The second scan they look at does not have contrast and is called the FLAIR.  Without getting super deep into the weeds it looks at the substance of the brain based on how it reacts to the magnetic field created by the MRI.  Fat will look different from gray matter vs fluid in the brain etc.  I did have one area that showed up quite large on the FLAIR.  They think that may be from the radiation treatment.  They referred to it as Gliosis.  I will talk to my radiation oncologist about it tomorrow.

So after all that, they are happy with the scan as far as tumor progression, cautious about the potential radiation damage (I am going to blame that for my CRS syndrome [Can’t Remember Shit]), and will have me back in two months this time.  Personally I prefer the two month schedule.  I want to catch ANYTHING early when it comes to this thing growing back.

Will update tomorrow with my “2nd opinion”

Apr 042017

Links! Today was a good day for announcements in treatment for Glioblastomas. First, we started off with more awesome results from Novocure (Tom’s Optune device). Their stock prices surged too!
Next, I got an email from the National Brain Tumor Society regarding their Defeat GBM Research Collaborative. This is one of the reasons we support NBTS. There’s a lot of GBM trials in Phase III which is pretty remarkable and a due in large part to increased awareness and funding. I felt my hope surge today along with those stock prices that something promising on the horizon. 

Potential Glioblastoma Treatments Entering The Pivotal Phase of Evaluation

Also another plug for the Portland Brain Tumor Walk on August 6. My birthday casserole cook-off fundraiser raised $1090! You all are amazing and it’s because of people like you that the above progress is being made. The organizers would like to do an upcoming feature on Team Food Baby but it would be nice to have more than two members on the team before I say yes. You don’t have to do actually do the walk to join Team Food Baby but there is a $25 fee. I know it’s a busy weekend and I wish they’d stop putting it at the same time as other big events like the MS Ride. Here’s the link to sign up!
Tom starts another round of chemo tonight. We’ve definitely been seeing him get progressively more fatigued with each round but he has still managed to work full-time and make it to his spin class. Last month he told me after his workout he couldn’t remember why he felt so tired, then he remembered he was on his chemo! We’ve also enjoyed being more social as of late and cheating a wee bit on the keto diet with birthday cake and festivities. 
As always, thanks to all of you. It means so much to have you all in this with us.

Mar 032017
I have not really been posting that much. Jessie has been doing the main updating – I guess when you are living cancer you don’t really think about talking cancer. Plus, she is often waiting while I am getting treated for something so she gets time to post about it
One of the ways I like to cope with my condition is to study it, try to think about life differently, and maybe what I can do with it. Ted talks are one of my favorite escapes. I have watched a couple tonight (they are so addictive) and I wanted to share two as they really resonated with me. The first was from a notification I received from Ted about a new talk on my phone. This one is serious and humorous at the same time. I think it shows you how you can look at something with a different perspective and really learn something where you never expected you could learn from.
Lux Narayan: What I learned from 2,000 obituaries ->
So if you want to accomplish something with your life you have on average until age 37 to get it done. So all of you under 37 get busy. And seriously watch this one. It is only 8 minutes, you will be surprised what you learn from it.
The second one is not so light hearted but it did give me pause to think. The article Jessie posted about the reporter with a Glioblastoma brought up some statistics that are hard to just ignore. While I hope to be, hell plan to be, that outlier or anomaly that lives 15+ years after diagnosis, that is still a long shot. Shit, I would prefer to be the exceeding rare “cured” GBM but wouldn’t we all. So this Ted talk helps reassure those of us (well me really) that know what will likely take my life prematurely. BJ Miller is a brilliant and compelling speaker. It is a little long but great story.
I am by no means going to give up. But on average we all think we are above average so it is good to keep one foot grounded just in case you find out you really are just average.
Mar 012017

Updates-Tom has had a cold we’ve been trying to kick for nearly two weeks now. We thought we had it licked Sunday and he worked out yesterday and felt bad again last night and today. He’s supposed to start another chemo round tomorrow night but will re-evaluate that tomorrow. His labs have been good. Somehow I’ve got to make that guy rest! Overall he has been exercising a lot and doing well prior to the cold. 
Also here’s an from a newly diagnosed GBM patient that struck a note with me today. Attitude is everything.

Feb 022017

“They” never said that the week before an MRI scan is a special kind of hell. From co-workers exposing Tom to a nasty bug to a question on insurance coverage, we came into this scan more than a little frazzled. Luckily Tom didn’t get sick and the insurance got straightened out so that just left the big one.I make it a point to go to the scans to show Tom support, but also because if there is a recurrence, all the stories of others say the tech has the patient stay put and a doctor is called. I was sitting in the waiting room toward the end of the hour and the nurse who is running the MRI trial Tom was in came and sat next to me and gave me (what I interpreted as a concerned look) and asked how I was doing. I made small talk and caught her up on all things Tom and then the paranoia hit me that she was stalling until a doctor could come see us. Then she said she was hoping for a good outcome on his scan for him and left. Whew. And they let us leave. We didn’t get any early “it’s all clear” signs that we have gotten before the appt so we waited the 24 hours getting progressively more nervous. The resident checked Tom out and said he was doing great and said he was going to just now go look at the scan with the head neuro oncologist and would be back. 20 min later they finally came in with “looks good!”. Whew!!! It took them awhile because they were debating if the cavity where the tumor was had shrunk since the last scan. It takes awhile for a week of fear to leave your body but we are feeling pretty elated now. They even bumped Tom out to every 3 months for scans vs every 2 months so another good sign that things are moving in the right direction. Tonight Tom starts another round of chemo and tomorrow we see our favorite, Dr. Jerry. As always, thanks to all of you for your support and strength! I hope to have Team Food Baby up and running for this year’s Tumor walk by the end of the week!

Jan 242017
So no new real activity lately and I guess that is good news – BUT – we are getting near the time to mobilize TeamFoodBaby. Last year with very short notice we put together an amazing team for the Portland Brain Tumor Walk. Jessie will be getting the team setup on the fund raising site soon (the walk is on August 6th) but I just wanted to share a great way to help participate in the best way possible, by drinking beer. Migration Brewing is doing an early fundraiser with a bunch of breweries and special collaboration food. 10% of the Event’s proceeds will go to benefit the National Brain Tumor Society. This won’t go into TeamFoodBaby’s kitty but heck, all you have to do is show up and have a beer and you will be helping out. IN the grand scheme it is all about finding a cure.
Find the details here:
Dec 302016

Now that I have a few moments to myself, I have some time to reflect on this year before we head off to where the year started, Mary and Gordy’s cabin, and some well-deserved down time.

My first thought, damn this was a shitty year.  While some good things happened for the most part I would love to forget it.  The best moment was right at the beginning of the year.  I should have known something was up when my proposal to Jessie did not go as planned and almost did not happen.  It was an amazing moment that I will never forget and I am glad I was able to do it.  Still to this day I remember saying to myself, this is going to be our year.  I was so wrong!

After that we had one of the most terrifying drives of my life.  What should be a 4 hour drive turned into 6 hours of white knuckle hell!  Car and trucks in ditches, a semi wreck causing a 6 mile back up on the freeway, then the Subaru completely out of my control sliding on the ice a little this way a little that way.  I thought, after 5 and a half hours now we crash.  Thankfully we survived that without a scratch.

Fast forward three months and the vertigo hits.  I have never been that sympathetic to people with “vertigo”.  I always felt it was a made up problem and while I never openly said anything to anyone, I apologize for those thoughts.  It was completely debilitating, I could not move or open my eyes without throwing up.  After the whole, swallow my pride and get help, I had an ambulance ride to the hospital all of 5 blocks away.  If you think Uber surge pricing is bad, get a bill for a 5 block ambulance ride.  Being in such a state where I could barely open my eyes I will never ever forget the looks on the doctors faces when they came in with the results of the MRI, a brain tumor – BUT good news, we don’t think it has anything to do with the vertigo – YAY two thumbs up!  So now I have two shitty issues to deal with.  Honestly the brain tumor has been a piece of cake, the vertigo has been the persistent pain in the ass.

A couple months later (after a great trip to Bali with some amazing people) I get a chunk of my brain cut out.  Many people will tell you how having a life threatening issue is a greatest thing that ever happened to them.  There is a TED talk where a lady speaks about her tumor as the “best gift I ever survived” (and I understand her point since it is a life changing event) I would have preferred it not deal with this experience.  We were fully prepared for the “friendly tumor” an Oligo – thus the name Oblio.  Two weeks later and the word Glioblastoma caused everyone’s voice to sound like Charlie Brown adult voices.  I will always remember that moment but not what was said.  Yah I have had Chemo, Radiation, more Chemo but through all of that I never felt as sick as I did that weekend after hearing them say my tumor was an Glioblastoma.  The ONLY thing we took comfort in was that everyone said it looked like a text book Oligodendroglioma, our “friendly slow growing yah you can survive this tumor”.  Now it was the, you are going to be dead in a year tumor.

Jessie and I pored over the research and took copious notes and devised a plan to fight this.  Now the part that gets me teary eyed – all the support we received.  That was TRULY the greatest gift of the year.  I appreciate each and every one of you that helped us through my recovery, the tumor walk, being there to chat, visit, cheer us up, take our minds off this horrible shit, and keep us moving.  I knew we had great friends and family but the outpouring of support just stunned me.  I cannot thank all of you enough.

So that is it with the bad stuff.  On with the good:

  • I got engaged to a wonderful lady that continually fills me with joy.
  • We met Dr Jerry who challenges me to keep living my life and provides reassurance when we do down the rabbit hole.
  • I got back on the bike and actually did some mountain biking – thanks to Team Western Safety for that.
  • I raced in 6 cross races. While never a threat to win I got stronger as the season progressed and felt just being there made me the biggest winner on the course.  How many of those ass holes had a chunk of their brain cut out and were undergoing chemo.  Ha!
  • We took several fantastic trips – Bali, Kauai, and visited family in both Boise and Spokane.
  • I came back to work and feel, for the most part, pretty normal.

What I learned:

  • Life is not about stuff, it is about having experiences with great people (but having nice stuff can make the experience better: see mountain biking above (I would have cracked open my head if I did not have my new bike, thank you Jessie))
  • Try and make a difference for others. I think we get so wrapped up in ourselves that we miss out on helping others.  You really see that when you are in a Hospital a lot.
  • If you think you have it bad, there are others that are always worse off than you. I think about that while racing that there is always someone faster than you.  So fight your own fight and don’t let someone else get you down.  Everything is up to you, you are not entitled to anything.
  • This is probably the most important, be in the best shape you can be. I think my recovery has gone so well can be attributed to being relatively fit.  No, you don’t have to be a world class athlete or run marathons but you do have to be active, strength train, and eat right.  ELIMINATE processed foods, cut WAY back on sugar or eliminate as much as possible, and cut the carbs.  Sugar and carbs feed cancer – that is a fact.
  • You need to be an advocate for yourself – Doctors do not have a magic pill. They cannot fix things by waving a magic wand.  They can be overwhelmed by the number of patients they deal with – YOU need to educate yourself and come prepared.  Do not take what they say as gospel, challenge them, make them prove their theory’s, get second opinions.  AND listen (or read) these three podcasts

Yah, I am looking forward to 2016 coming to an end but there has been some bright spots throughout the year.  I have learned so much about myself, my friends, and just my perspective on life.  I hope all of you have a fantastic New Year’s Eve and CHEERS to 2017