Before any freaks out about the title of this post, let me explain. It's a song title from the Misfits and I use it with a big smile on my face. I received a phone call from Dr. Geschwind's colleague this morning to review the findings from the MRI that I had on Tuesday at Johns Hopkins.
According to Dr. Geschwind, I had a "fantastic response" to the chemoembolization treatments. The tumor on my right lobe has shrunk by about 1.5 cm from 6.5 cm to 5.0 cm. Also much of the tumor seems to be in a state of necrosis. This means it's dead. So I sing "Die, die, die my darling!" in my best punk growl.
It's actually not completely dead. There could be some living cancer cells on the edge of the tumor that are too hard to see in the scan. But with the majority of the tumor being killed off, there is very little chance that it will grow anytime soon. This was a major issuee when I was first diagnosed because this tumor could block off my bile ducts if it expanded and then I would have major health problems and possibly liver failure. By getting it's growth under control, I have bought myself time to fight against the tumor that is in the left lobe of my liver and the cancer cells in my lymphatic system.
This news, which I received today, caps off a busy few days as far as my health and medical status go. Last Friday, I had a port installed under the skin in my chest. This port will allow a nurse to hook up an IV for me to receive chemotherapy treatment without having to poke my arm. Saturday morning, I was experiencing some new, sharp pain in my abdomen which warranted a visit to the emergency room. Oh the stories and frustrations I could speak of, but suffice to say, I was happy to leave the next day after no doctor could figure out what was wrong with me.
On Monday, I met with Dr. Rebecca Moss, my oncologist at the Cancer Institute of NJ (affiliated with Robert Wood Johnson Hospital and UMDNJ). We spoke about starting systemic chemotherapy soon. The main purpose of this chemo regimen would be to try to clear my lymph system of cancerous cells - something that can't be done with localized treatment like chemoembolization. Dr. Moss convinced me to be in a clinical trial which will combine the drugs gemcitabine (which is pretty standard in the treatment of cholangiocarcinoma) with a new drug called plitidepsin. My thoughts are that I can always step out of the clinical trial if things aren't going well, but I can't get in if I start a different regimen first. This clinical trial will start April 6th for me. I'll be participating for at least two months, possibly longer. Hopefully, besides clearing my lymph system, the chemo will also attack the tumors on my liver.
Tuesday, Sarah and I went down to Baltimore for the aforementioned MRI. We spent some times with friends of mine from DC and Baltimore and then returned on Wednesday. And here we are on Thursday and the good news comes on the phone... Things are looking up - but there's still a long way to go.
Until April 6th, I don't have much going on. Sarah and I may make a short trip out of town to visit my relatives in South Jersey. I do have to go to the Cancer Institute on Monday for a blood transfusion as my hemoglobin count is low. This means I'm a bit anemic and would explain my overall fatigue over the past few weeks. Hopefully the new blood will give me some good energy. And telepathic powers.
