be warned that this is a very long read. I didn’t intend to make it that way, but this is pretty much a cumulative report of what happened to me in last two months. Feel free to skim through or just stop reading if you want to, as I won’t be offended at all. Well- maybe a little.
“You have cancer.”
All of sudden, the world moved in slow motion. Plastic cup filled with water started slipping through my trembling hand. Clock ticked its second hand a minute too long. Baby wailed in a hospital room nearby. My doctor’s mouthing the word “cancer” over and over. The cup is now falling to the floor. The patients and doctors unknowingly bustled in the hallways, ignorant of my latest dilemma. The cup is now crashing onto the floor and splitting apart, sending water everywhere. All of this happened in a second, but it felt like eternity. It’s like the world stopped revolving for a moment, allowing me to take in my surroundings and the doctor’s words.
And you know what? Nothing actually happened like that. I didn’t have a cup of water in my hand. The baby was nowhere nearby (and in case you guys are wondering, I’m able to hear high-pitched voices, but probably not from another room- ha). Well, I just did that for melodramatic effect, really. Hardy har har. In fact, I had already prepared myself mentally for any kind of worst-case scenario. The week prior to getting this news, I was in the hospital for four days to have the lumps under my armpit and on my neck checked. However, despite being mentally prepared, the world prolly DID slow down for a brief millisecond, whereas the news of me having cancer was finally hitting me like a runaway train.
“Oh fuck me. So that is actually the case?,” was possibly the first thoughts that appeared in my mind (if I really could remember what actually did). But here’s the funny thing. When I got the news, I was more concerned about my ASL interpreter than myself. I could see that she was also stricken by this news and by the fact that she WAS the bearer of bad news. The freelance interpreter was kind enough to keep me company for three hours sitting in the front office (yes, that long), waiting to be called by my doctor. She was a pleasant and cheerful lady. Even though I already warned her of my existing condition and the possible results, all of the cheerfulness drained from her face when she passed the message along from my kind Asian female doctor. When the doctor left (ofc, after a barrage of questions and clarifications from me) the room, I told the interpreter that she could leave, because I didn’t see any need for her to stay longer. I was waiting to get papers from my doctor before my dismissal from my appointment. The interpreter was no longer herself, the cheerful and talkative lady I first met, but instead a heartbroken and sympathetic person. In a nutshell, I think she took the news harder than me, especially when she had to deliver the message to me. Oh well, go figure. ha
Before spilling the beans about my entire diagnosis and current treatment, I can assure all of you that I’m still in great spirits and am currently in good hands. To prevent constant ranting, I shall try my best to summarize my entire ordeal from early symptoms to the treatment I’m currently undergoing. So here goes…
As of nearly a month ago, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It is actually the most common cancer for young males, especially Caucasians in North America. But the good news is that people from 15 to 30 yrs old have 90 percent survival rate. This is one of the main reasons why I’m still upbeat and confident that I shall get through the entire treatment just fine.
For now, let me take a step back and explain how my symptoms showed up in the first place. It seems it all began during my last few weeks of my ten-week internship as a student teacher at the Texas School for the Deaf. I was struck with a bad case of coughing, but oddly enough, the kind of coughing I had caused a shortness of breath at some point. I would cough really hard, making my eyes all watery, and making these hoarse sounds, for I could barely breath. At first, I assumed it was a bad case of bronchitis, but I realized I was not spitting mucus at all. So later, I assumed it was allergies, since several friends of mine were having bad allergies at that time. Yet, growing up, I almost never had any problems with allergies. Some friends insisted that it was just Austin. I had originally planned on visiting the doctor, but my medical insurance was under Medi-Cal in California, and was not accepted out of states. After calling a couple of clinics and asking them how much it cost for me to visit without insurance, their answer was, “Oh, the initial fee for visiting doctor is $107.” Just to check on my coughing? Forget it… so I ended up dosing myself with over the counter cough medicine for couple of weeks or so. It slowly got better over time. A week after the completion of my ten weeks internship at TSD, I headed to San Diego for three weeks’ vacation. The coughing did show up occasionally, but not as much as before, so I didn’t think too much of it during my vacation in SD.
Now fast forward to the end of my three-week stay at SD. Just right before my flight back to Austin, I was struck with a mild fever. I was feeling light-headed and sweating profusely, but managed to bear through it on my flight back to Austin. Upon my arrival, my fever was already going down. Yet, the very next day, I noticed a mild pain in my left upper chest (near my armpit). The pain felt like it does when I hit the weights too much, but it was bearable and didn’t bother me that much. Alas, this odd sensation continued for few days. It was on the day when the owners of the house I was staying at were about to fly out to Central America, leaving their house and cats for me and my friend to maintain through the summer, when I made the decision to check myself in the mirror. To my complete surprise, there was a soft, golf-ball sized lump sitting right under my left armpit. This was WHEN I knew that I was in hot water. I decided not to tell my friends as I wanted them to enjoy their trip in Central America at ease, without worrying too much about my peculiar dilemma. After dropping them off at airport and on the way back to home, I told my friend about my situation right away. We agreed that this matter was urgent and requires immediate attention. Yet, the lack of medical insurance in Texas prevented me from doing so. What did I do? I just showed up at the SSI office and made myself into a Texas resident. All of that just to be able to get Medicaid insurance plan under Texas! They told me that it would be ready on July 1st, which was two weeks later (it was appx. June 16-17th). Since I was feeling perfectly fine with the exception of a minor soreness in my left armpit, I figured I could wait a couple of weeks longer. As a few days passed by, I noticed another lump on my left neck, but for the life of me, I wasn’t sure if it was present at the same time as the lump under my armpit or if it had showed up a few days later.
On the day my Medicaid plan was initiated, July 1st, I went straight to Brackenridge Hospital in Austin (near the University of Texas) to have my lumps checked out. I was expecting to be in the hospital for a few hours, to have my blood taken and a couple of tests, but nope, that wasn’t the case. I end up staying at the hospital for four friggin’ days! Through the cat scan and chest x-rays done on first day, they determined that I had enlarged lymph nodes in my left side, including in my lung. The cause of enlarged lymph nodes varies from cancer, viral infection, tuberculosis, and even HIV! Truth be told, I was terrified when they asked me if I was tested for HIV before, because I haven’t. Just kept on procrastinating on this, and now the suspense was killing me. I went through a series of tests, including an ultrasound on my precious family jewels by a bulky female nurse. Now that was pretty awkward, as I felt it was something only a senior citizen should go through, but what could I do? Just think of a happy place (bora bora, oh how I want to be there). After series of tests, the doctor asked me to stay overnight for a biopsy of my lymph nodes on the following day, which I didn’t expect at all as I was so ready to go back home. My pager was dying, but fortunately, my very last sentence to my housemate was “ah, the doctor said I might have to stay overnight. I’m not sure, but will let you know soon.” After my doctor confirmed it, my pager was as dead as Mel Gibson’s career. *sighs* As the nurse brought me on a mobile bed to the 7th floor, I glided past several rooms, all the doors were open with sickly patients inside. At the corner of the floor, I spied a room shut down with a bright pink poster on the front door exclaiming: “Be warned that this patient might have airborne disease. Please wear a mask before entering this room.” I told myself that it would be funny if they put me in that room, and sure enough, they did. Oh great, the story of my life…
So by the first night, I was isolated in my shut-in room with no way to contact the world outside. Whoever entered my room was required to wear a mask over his/her mouth, so that definitely did not help. Now I know how Frankenstein felt, being pored over by “mad scientists” under their masks. Well, thank g_d for a couple of things. A book I brought to kill time and the good ol’ faithful television, surprisingly with a good number of channels.
Second day (July 2nd): a biopsy was performed. Through ultrasound, it was discovered that I had more than several enlarged lymph nodes under my left armpit, hence the reason why I have a golf-sized lump there. O boy, the biopsy itself was a prick. They had this bigass needle poking up my armpit, and you could feel it clicking when it attempted to scrape a sample from the lymph node. I’m just grateful for anesthetics, which made it relatively easy to endure. Without it, I’d prolly bite my tongue off and literally become a deaf-mute guy for the rest of my life. Several hours later, the doctor came in my room and told me that they didn’t get sufficient samples and would have to do it again in the following day. Was this close to throwing a temper tantrum (oh bora bora!), but ended up forcing my doctor to e-mail my housemate, Jason Ruzicka (Ruz), to bring my pager charger.
Bless the sports of this world. Couple of exciting soccer games in World Cup was on television, helping time pass by. Before I knew it, Ruz peered into my room nervously with his bright yellow mask covering half of his face. Seems he was afraid of entering the wrong room and giving an old granny a heart attack, not that I can blame him, tho. Ah, was great to see a familiar face once again, and also was grinning like a fool at the sight of my pager charger in his hands. At last- back in touch with the world! Not only that, he also was kind enough to give me a get-well card thus boosting my morale. Bless his soul, indeed. He stayed for a while and kept me company. At one point during our conversation, I saw his mask moving up and down vigorously. I actually asked him if he was laughing, and he nodded in reply. As a Deaf person, seeing people’s facial expressions is crucial. With that in mind, it was awkward and a bit comical to carry a conversation with someone whose face is half-covered.
After his departure, I was able to use my pager and get in touch with my family and inform them about my stay in the hospital and so on. Browsed the internet on my pager a bit to see what’s up with the world. No longer isolated, I was.
Third day (July 3rd): woke up and awaiting my next biopsy. To my confusion, a nurse came in with my breakfast, because of the fact that I was not supposed to eat for eight hours before biopsy. I explained this to her, yet she replied that doctor actually told her that it was okay to bring me breakfast. Seething, I told her to bring the doctor in immediately. She retreated the room quickly, leaving the eggs and sausage few feet away beside me, its smell wavering all around the room. Don’t inhale… don’t in--- ah crap, I’m hungry. dammit.
Around 30-45 minutes later, the doctor finally showed up along with an interpreter. His response was simply this: “Oh, sorry about that. We realized that we got sufficient samples, so another biopsy isn’t needed.” ¡ay caramba! Are you for friggin’ real? Then why the hell am I still here?
Taking a deep breath: “Oh realllllly? So I guess I’m dismissed from the hospital now?”
“Oh no. We need you here for another night, as we need do more tests.”
Another night?!?!? (bora bo--- ah, this crap ain’t working anymore) I don’t recall that much from that encounter, as I was too fed up with the lack of clarification from the hospital staff. Even though I did ask some questions and got couple of answers, the doctor left the room, leaving me feeling baffled and unsatisfied. In my defeat, I decide to page Ruz and have him bring me my laptop, ipod, blockbuster movie, and most importantly, a few snacks from Taco Bell (yo quiero taco bell!). Still feeling confused, I took the time to think things thoroughly and came up with questions that will get me the answers I was looking for. By late afternoon, I called the nurse over and told her to have my doctor visit me right away, but that took another two hours. By that time, my friends had already arrived with my so-called entertainment center, along with the zesty smell of tacos from Taco Bell. I had a barrage of questions prepared for the doctor at that time, and at last, she was able to clarify a few things that left me befuddled in first place.
I had to stay another night in hospital, as they had yet to determine if I had tuberculosis (TB) or not. This disease is highly contagious and can be spread through the air, hence the reason why all doctors/nurses/visitors are required to wear a mask while being in my room. You can determine whether a person has TB or not through testing his/her spit (salvia). I had already tested negative the last two days, but it turns out that it’s hospital policy to have the patient to be tested negative for three straight days before releasing the patient. At last, I understood the reason why I was staying in the hospital longer. I was finally feeling at ease, but I wanted to double check, so I asked them to confirm this: If my test comes out negative on the following morning, I’ll be released from the hospital? They gave me a resounding aye. But nope, I wasn’t done. I added, “Oh, that’s great! By the way, I’m supposed to be the host of a July 4th party tomorrow (it was partially the truth, as I was co-hosting the pool party with a couple friends of mine), so is there any way we could do this a bit earlier?” They immediately replied, “Oh absolutely! We will do everything in our powers to have you released right away if your test results come negative. We can test your spit at 5-6 am, if you would like to. Results should be ready a few hours afterwards.” Score one for me! Anything to get me out earlier, sureeeee!
Feeling much pleased after the doctor and his company left, leaving me to chat with a couple friends of mine. After a bit while, they left to meet up with other rowdy males for a big UFC fight (Lesnar vs. Carwin). Soon enough, my room was turned into an entertainment center. Ipod blaring in my ears, browsing the cyber world on my laptop, book and movies lying beside me, munching happily on my cheesy gordita crunch from Taco Bell, and most importantly, me in a new set of clothes. I was this close to jumping up and down on the hospital bed and riffing insanely to hard rock at max volume. Ultimately, I just could taste the fresh air that awaited me the very next morning… only if all goes well, of course.
Fourth day (July 4th): after hacking up slimy salvia in the wee hours of the morning for them to test, I went back to sleep. It was probably at 10 or 11 am when I woke up, and what startled me were couple of doctors, nurses, and an interpreter, all hovering over me with wide grins on their faces. It took me a while to get my bearings together, then I noticed something. They didn’t have their masks on! For three days, I never really got to see their faces, so their beaming faces were a bit overbearing for me at first.
“I guess I have been cleared for tuberculosis?” I asked modestly, and they nodded enthusiastically. About time… also, MUCH to my relief, I finally got results for HIV which came negative (about time I got sense of peace. so I truly do recommend y’all not to follow in my footsteps and get yourselves tested asap). Despite this good news, I was not in the clear yet, as the result of the biopsy was still pending at that time and would be ready within a week after my dismissal from the hospital. Afterwards, the doctor said she wanted to print some papers for me and to process my release, and that itself took few hours (that’s how slow their service was). Regardless of this, I was free… thanks almighty, free at last!
At 2 pm, I finally took my first step outside the hospital since early afternoon on July 1st. Ironically, it was Independence Day, so that definitely brought true meaning to me with my given circumstances. It was supposed to rain that day, as it did for last three days, but to my awe, it was a beautiful and sunny day. The realization finally hit me, I was cooped up in my hospital room for approximately three days. I left that room only once to get my biopsy performed. This made me appreciate the little stuff such as the smell of fresh air and to be able to roam across green grass. While driving back home, I had both windows open to let the air flow freely into my car. Such a liberating feeling, I’m telling you. It was truly an Independence Day for me. Pool party that afternoon with approximately 30 awesome people in the gorgeous weather was certainly the cherry on the top. A July 4th that I will never forget, indeed.
In hindsight, I realized few things, and figured I should share this with y’all. In the duration of my stay at hospital, I was a bit frustrated with the lack of clarity from the hospital staff, even though I was provided access with an interpreter most of the time (not entirely, I have to say). But the problem lies in the fact that I probably did not ask the right kind of questions. Granted, I asked them a lot of questions, but probably not the ones I should ask. It was on the third day that I told myself to calm down and ponder what KIND of questions I should ask. Every day I was expecting to be released from hospital, but in reality, they were planning to keep me for 4 days due to their policy of testing tuberculosis. I still don’t understand why they neglected to mention this in first place, which would have spared me a lot of trouble. It was by the evening of the third day when I finally got most things clarified, thus allowing me to feel at ease and satisfied. So be sure to think things thoroughly and ask what you feel needs to be cleared up. If you aren’t sure, just call for a nurse and demand for the doctor to see you right away, as it’s ultimately your rights and YOUR body they’re dealing with. Just something for you guys to keep in mind for your future hospital visits.
K- I know I have a tendency to rant and rant at certain points. So I’ll tone it down for my sake and the readers’ sake and speed up the process… hopefully.
Four days after being released from the hospital, I was notified to visit their clinic to receive the results of my biopsy (July 8th). As mentioned in the beginning of the entry, I was already mentally prepared for the worst-case scenario, but of course, I was hoping that it would be a case of a bad viral infection. Unfortunately, that was not the case. After being notified that I actually have Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, the doctor recommended that I get started with chemotherapy within two weeks, but I told her that I would need to discuss this with my parents first before confirming the treatment. Heading back to home, it was a surreal feeling. Me getting chemotherapy at the ripe age of 27 years old? What are the odds of that, really? And how? The doctor said the cause of that type of cancer is pretty much unknown. I’ll explain my feelings regarding cancer in next entry. Thanks to help of my friends who were staying at home, they found some information about my cancer and filled me with some good news about how it’s treatable and so on. After conferring with my parents, it was agreed that it would be better off for me to move back to my parents’ home in Fremont, CA, and receive treatment there. Last thing I want to be is a burden to my friends in Austin while I’m enduring chemotherapy, and in addition to that, I have yet to confirm a place to live in by the upcoming fall. Also, I know my parents, especially my mom, would be freaking out by having their son who’s currently diagnosed with cancer thousands and thousands of miles away. Lastly, it was time for me to return home, as it’s been too long since I really spent quality time with my family and dogs at home. Oh yea, free rent can’t hurt too. :)
With that decision finalized, I immediately notified my Austin doctor of my decision, and she was in full support of it and claimed that she would help in any way she can, especially with sending my files to wherever I will have my treatment at. Next, I e-mailed my UCSD professors and explained the situation and my decision to put my thesis on hold indefinitely until I’m completely recovered. In case some of you guys are wondering, I’m nearly done with grad school, with just a thesis left. I was supposed to defend my thesis on August 13th (yes, two days ago!) with my classmates, but with my given circumstances, it was clear that I needed to focus on my health first. Thankfully, all of them replied back right away and were in full favor of my decision and told me NOT to worry anything about my thesis until I’m all recovered. That response alone certainly did lift a lot of stress off my shoulders (UCSD- your support is greatly appreciated). In the meantime, my mom assertively emailed my great aunt for advice as she had a lot of friends in the medical field. It was through her friend, who strongly recommended I get treatment at the Stanford Cancer Center (under Stanford University). They are a world leader in cancer research, especially my kind of cancer. Bless my luck, because it was only 40 minutes away from my home! The doctor in Austin even exclaimed that this was a great decision.
A week later, my car was piled up with my stuff and all set to go, along with two friends. I made a couple of pit stops on the way: Phoenix for a night and to have another friend join us, then to San Diego to pick up some of my remaining stuff and to see a few friends for a couple of nights, before heading to Fremont by myself. For me, that road trip was much needed. Nothing can beat great company and the scenery of road trips (it was my first time using I-8 from Phoenix to San Diego! And wow, it’s majestic, as we got to drive through three different regions before reaching the coast (rocky desert, sand dunes, mountains). At last, I was home, being greeted by my parents and dogs. Always great to be back home, indeed.
Three days after my arrival, I was scheduled for my first meeting at the Stanford Cancer Center. Upon my arrival, I was a bit nervous, especially seeing all of the cancer patients, some with masks and many with bandanas to cover their heads. Will I be like them later? The meeting went pleasantly well, as the doctors were very attentive to my needs and responsive to all of my inquiring questions. The doctors told me that my exact diagnosis had not been determined due to the lack of information from Austin, and couple more tests are needed. It turned out that I was supposed to contact the doctor in Austin myself, and have her send my files (which of course, I did immediately). A pet scan was scheduled the next day. My meeting was on Wednesday, and the doctors said they would need all information ready before the upcoming Monday, since that’s when the doctors will have their “team” meetings regarding new patients (on every Monday).
FYI- from the day I discovered the lumps on my body to that day at Stanford, I was feeling perfectly fine. I did not have any symptoms or whatsoever, bless my lady luck. The doctors said that was a VERY good sign. I was supposed to be in Las Vegas that week for the Deaf International Expo, as I already had a room booked under my name a month ago (ofc, I did replace myself with another friend after this situation came up). I asked them timidly (I probably even had my best puppy eyes on) if I could head to LV for the weekend for my last hurrah with everyone else before I begin my chemotherapy and possibly be bed-ridden for the next few months. The doctors gave me their approval, but of course, emphasized that I needed to take it easy on myself there. I did ask them bluntly if alcoholic drinks would endanger my health or aggravate my cancer (I had already expected to stay sober the entire weekend). The doctors, naturally, chuckled at my question, but did answer truthfully. They said that alcohol won’t aggravate my cancer at all, but they were just afraid that it might affect my well-being as they wanted me to be at my best for chemotherapy. Yet it was through our mutual agreement that I could have a few beers during my weekend stay at LV, which exceeded my original expectations.
Right after the PET scan the next day, I went straight to the SF airport for an one-way flight to the sin city for a long and hectic weekend. LV- I’ll keep it short and sweet. It was overwhelming at first. Seeing too many old faces at once. First night, kind of felt like a broken record, explaining what I had been up to and etc (of course, I did not bother to tell that many people about my situation, just a few dear friends of mine. I did not want to dampen everyone’s time in LV, you know.) Played deaf poker tourney, but alas, no luck. Saw sunrises for four straight days (including the ride back to Fremont)!!! But I can assure y’all that I did take a nap in the late afternoon on a daily basis to reenergize myself before every night. The four-day stay in LV was certainly worthwhile and satisfying as my last hurrah before heading back home.
I was scheduled to meet with my doctors on Wednesday to get my exact diagnosis. Of course, I was anxious to know what exactly was wrong with me and how long my treatment would be. There are four stages to Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, 1 for basic and 4 for severe. For more information on this cancer, feel free to look at this site: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hodgkin's_lymphoma. At last, I got my result.
To my bewilderment, I was diagnosed at stage four, mainly because of one major concern: my lungs. I was actually expecting to be at stage 1 or 2 the entire time after my visit to the hospital in Austin. However, I realized that I was already at stage four since the very beginning, because I KNEW there were enlarged lymph nodes in my lungs. I just didn’t realize that it was classified as stage four. But fret not, for there are also some good news. They didn’t find any enlarged lymph nodes below my diaphragm nor my spleen, as this would call for serious treatment. All my enlarged lymph nodes were in my upper chest, neck, and lungs. They said they would need to perform a bone marrow biopsy right before I was to start my chemotherapy on that very day to make sure the cancer didn’t spread to my bone. Instead of 8 weeks as originally planned, they decided to increase it to 12 weeks of chemotherapy. The doctors admitted that they were concerned about my lungs, because they aren’t 100 percent sure if they were cancer-related. It could be a completely other kind of infection. There were two ways to find out: proceed with chemotherapy and have a CAT scan in the next four weeks to see if the size of the lymph nodes has reduced (then it’s cancer-related) or perform a biopsy in my lungs now. A biopsy in my lungs would require surgery and might complicate things, so I agreed that it was better for me to do four weeks of chemotherapy and determine the result afterwards. If the size of the lymph nodes in my lungs remained the same after chemotherapy, then a biopsy would be necessary.
On the bright side, all the doctors mentioned that they were pleased that I was in great health and barely showed any symptoms. But there was one symptom I forgot to mention to the readers. That was weight loss. Some people from San Diego were shocked at how much weight I lost right after living few months in Austin, and they were immediate to pinpoint my cancer as the cause. But I always insisted that I lost ten frigging pounds from nearly four weeks of P90x! Then I lost another ten pounds from having this cancer. I was at 170 lbs when I moved to Austin, which was my peak. I gradually lost weight to 160 lbs after p90x (man- that workout is definitely a bitch! But it does works wonders, I can assure you, my friends.) After being diagnosed with Hodgkin’s, I was slowly losing weight without realizing it. By my arrival at home, I weighed myself and was surprised to find myself at 150 now. Here’s the irony… 150 pounds was actually my ideal weight (for my body frame). So golly gee, I’m already there! Think about it- p90x for losing ten pounds, a lot of work involved; and cancer for the next ten pounds, no work involved but life in danger. Hmmm- want a speedy and easy way to lose weight? Then cancer is the answer, my friends. And yes, I’m well aware of how that is a BAD joke, but be warned that my quirky sense of humor is how I deal with situations. To be frank, I have already used the “cancer card” to lessen burdens on myself, even when it’s not necessary. For instance, if I were to discuss where to eat out with friends, I’m pretty indecisive myself. I hate to be put in a position where I have to make a decision, so I would simply say, “Ah, why put an unnecessary burden on this sickly cancer boy? Not cool, you know. So I’ll just wait until you guys make the decision, alright?” Lame, I know. :) I also have made several crude jokes regarding myself as a victim of cancer among my friends. Once again, that’s how I deal with things, as I like to put a positive spin (if u call cynical sense of humor one) on negative situations. However, one of my friends shot back at me, “Dude, you better stop pushing your luck.” And know what? I think he’s probably right. Just need to reduce it a tad bit, I guess. *whistling*
Back to Stanford: A bone marrow biopsy was performed right after our meeting. I was ACTUALLY more nervous about this than chemotherapy, because I heard it hurts like HELL! To my relief, it wasn’t so bad as I thought. They had to give me several shots of anesthesia to get my back all numb, then all I felt was pressure of the drill whirring in my back, but no pain! But around 30 minutes after the biopsy, I finally felt a stabbing pain in my lower back, which lasted for almost an entire day.
Now, time for my very first chemotherapy! Let me explain briefly about my chemotherapy and what my schedule looks like from now on (am on my third week now). Since Stanford is one of world leaders on cancer, they actually developed their own chemotherapy treatment, and this differs from other chemotherapy offered in other hospitals. My chemotherapy is called the Stanford V treatment. According to my doctors, it is less invasive and radioactive in comparison to hospitals all over the states. A total of 12 weeks: it’ll be on a weekly basis, on Wednesday, with an exception of third week of each month, which requires two days of chemo (Wed/Thurs). Every week, I will be injected with different kind of medications. That way cancer cells won’t be able to become immune to those medications. First week, I was injected with three different medications. I was afraid that I would become nauseous right away after the chemo, but the nurse told me that I would feel the effects 24 hours later. An hour of injection, and I was all done. As I was exiting the hospital with my mom, the reality was finally setting in. This is the beginning of a long journey that I shall endure through. I have no idea what lies in store ahead of me, really. All I know is that my long and challenging journey has begun.
Here’s what my visit to hospital looks like every week. It’ll be a total of 3-4 hours for each visit to hospital. Let’s do a mock schedule. 1 pm: Lab test, to draw blood out of me. 2 pm: Doctor’s office, to discuss with doctor about how my body dealt with prior week’s chemotherapy, and to answer any of my questions (every week I always show up with questions and clarifications). And most importantly, to find out my white blood cell count from my lab test, as this will determine if I can go ahead with chemotherapy on that same day or not. 3 pm: Infusion treatment, where I’m injected with chemo. And off to home, I go.
1st week of chemo: to my amazement, the side effects of chemotherapy did not bother me as much I thought they would. I was experiencing a bit headache and a little nausea, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Fatigue also was an issue, but I suspect it was more from my four-day stay in LV instead of chemotherapy (or both combined). I was still active and feeling upbeat, and that’s what matters the most to me. I was still meeting up with a friend of mine to play disc golfing almost on a daily basis during my first week of chemotherapy. Oh, in addition to chemotherapy, I had to take several medications on a daily basis. Most of them were to prevent nausea, infections, stool softener (to lessen chances of constipation, as that is one of most common side effects of chemo), and so on. Every another day, I had to take eight pills of steroids. So those medications and my age might be the reasons why I’m handling chemotherapy just fine so far.
2nd week of chemo: the doctor told me that it would be relatively easy in comparison to first week. The difference in those medications is that I might have mild fever in next 24 hours and possibly experience tingling numbness in end of my fingers and toes. The day after chemo, I did feel a bit hot but it later dissolved right away. Sure enough, on the weekend after 2nd chemo, I actually felt a bit of numbness in my end of fingers. I was more fascinated instead of being bothered by it. Once again, everything was a breeze.
3rd week of chemo: the doctors warned me that the odd weeks of chemo are usually more challenging than even weeks. But by each third week of month, I will have two days of chemo consecutively. I was wary about this week, because I assumed that I would experience effects harder this time. However, the doctor told me that this week is really similar to 1st week of chemo, possibly a bit less! Unfortunately, a new situation has appeared. During my meeting with nurse (who was filling in for my doctor), was startled to see my white blood cell count for it took a terrible blow. Let me explain a bit about white blood cell count (wbbc). The normal people have wbcc from 4 to 10… 4 is lowest end of normal wbcc, but for chemo patients, their wbcc are expected to drop to 2-3, which is considered “okay”. However, by the third week, my wbcc was at 1.4. This means I’m more vulnerable to bacteria and illnesses. My initial thought was that I did something wrong (maybe being too active? Eating wrong kinds of food?) and caused my wbcc to drop. But the doctor said it has nothing to do with my activities, and it’s just how my body responded to the first week of chemo. Basically, it was beyond my control. However, because of this, they had to postpone my chemotherapy to later date, until my wbcc comes back to the safe zone. Instead I had to have Neupagen shots for four straight days, as they are designed to help my bones build up more white blood cells. It’s something that I can do at home, but it would take a while for insurance to approve this. Therefore I had to drive 40 minutes to hospital just to take a shot (a five minute procedure!). Yesterday was my last day. My chemotherapy has been postponed to tomorrow (Monday/Tuesday), but first lab test will be done again to see if my wbcc has gone back to a safe and reasonable level for me to continue with my chemo. That’s where I’m right now.
I have a few more things to share, but I will save them for the next entry. I know this has been a long read (I’m damn tired myself), but it’s a cumulative of what happened to me in the last couple of months. I can assure you that the entries from now on will be much shorter and focus on a few specific things. I’m expecting to update my blog on a weekly basis, possibly after each chemo, so that way you guys can stay posted with my progress.
By the way- I am not BALD… yet (some of you are already asking me to send a bald picture of myself). I still have a head full of hair, thank you very much. According to doctors, it might take effect in 3-5 weeks. It is possible that my hair would just thin and not fall off, especially when Standford V treatment is less radioactive. Yet, I must confess that I already see some signs of hair thinning. Some friends know that I have this bad habit of twiddling with my hair (I tend do it when I’m under stress- and it was easily visible during my grad school years). I usually look for tangles in my hair and untangle it, and naturally, I would pull some of my hair away. But this time, when I do it, I find myself holding a larger amount of hair than usual. My hair isn’t falling off yet, but yea, it’s getting brittle and easier to be pulled off. FYI- it’s not like I pull my hair off my head and finding a serious chock of hair, leaving an obvious bald spot. My hair is probably equivalent to the population of this world, really. In last week, I probably did pull off (mostly from showering) an amount of hair equivalent to China, but all over my head not one specific spot. G_d forbid I end up like Tim Tebow’s Friar Tuck hair, seriously. Tomorrow, I’m likely to go for a trim. Then maybe shave it all off in couple of weeks. Alas, I am afraid that I might suffer from the Samson syndrome. I just fear that once my hair is gone, I’ll just become this weak and fragile cancer patient. It’s just that I’ve become so accustomed to my long curly hair for last decade, and they’re slowly dying on me now. Ay yi yi. Time to start anew soon… but definitely not NOW!
Lastly, a few friends have mentioned that they want to send me something (get well cards or gifts or whatsoever). Well- as I kept on mentioning numerous times, I am doing fine so far and still in great spirits. My health is still in excellent shape. Well, it is true that it might change through the treatment (hopefully not). But if you insist on sending cards, cookies, waterproof digital camera, madden ’10, 49ers season ticket, an one-way ticket to anywhere in the states or whatever, then I guess I really won’t mind. In reality, your well wishes are all what I need, really. :)
Here’s the address if you still insist on sending something to boost morale (I’ll admit that I do enjoy occasional surprises- ha):
Adam Jarashow
41601 Mission Creek Dr.
Fremont, CA 94539
Oh oh- feel free to share this blog with other people who really want to know my progress. I have nothing to hide, nor am I ashamed of my condition. I know I did overlook some friends on my mailing list, as it’s nearly impossible for me to think of everyone I should include. Not everyone is aware of my situation yet (I know few of my friends will receive a major shock when they get my e-mail). I know the readers could learn a thing or two from my experience. This is still a learning experience for me, and I intend to invite you to partake in this journey too for your own benefits (or entertainment).
Okay. I’m done (about time, I know, I know). Time for me to treat myself with Mario galaxy 2, which I got few days ago. But I promised myself that I wouldn’t play it until I’m done with this entry.
Mario, here I come!
til’ next time,
adam j.
