Pre test results, pre the Grande Boucle

Ann and I are heading off to Houston, Texas, tomorrow for CT and MRI scans on Thursday.  The scans will show if there has been any progress made in fighting the cancer, or if cancer has made any progress on me by growing and infiltrating more of my body.  The main focus will be on the tumor in my lung, which is kind of floating there and easy to measure and compare from the March PET scans.  On Friday, my case will be reviewed and we’ll meet with Dr. Patel to review the results and make a battle plan.  If biochemo therapy is working then we’ll continue with a third round of biochemo starting next Friday. If it is not working, we’ll likely switch it up and I’ll enter the TIL (tumor infiltrating lymphocyte) clinical trial at MD Anderson next Friday.  Not sure what we’ll do if there is no result at all.  I recently read a blog called Melanoma Mom of a young woman with a very similar case to mine where her two treatments prior to entering the TIL study actually shrunk her tumors enough to avert the need for anything else, so there’s as much chance of great news as of bad.  Needless to say we are on pins and needles awaiting the results.  All I can say is that I feel great now, two weeks after my last biochemo treatment, and I know my body has been busy kicking cancer’s ass.  I’ll let you know the results over the weekend.

Also this weekend is, much to my wife’s dismay, the start of the 98th Tour de France.  Being a cyclist and pro cycling fan this means 23 days of the most amazing performances of individuals and teams, epic battles steeped in a hundred years of tradition across 2,131 miles of the beautiful fields and mountains of France.  And very dear to my heart is the greatest cyclist in the history of le Tour, seven-time winner Lance Armstrong.  Especially so this week, pre-results, as I consider what my cancer diagnosis means to me.  I believe in the bottom of my heart that we ultimately determine what things mean to us and that in turn determines our future.  Life’s roadblocks, setbacks and failures have more of an impact on our lives than successes and bouts of contentment.  This setback in my health has the potential to have an enormous effect on my life, and that can be a negative or positive.  I’ve determined, and am committed, that it will be positive.  I will come out the other end of this fight a better man, a stronger father and more loving husband.  I'll come out a more complete human being with a new fire burning in my gut to try to prevent this from happening to others.  In short, this will be a turning point for me, a lesson in life that I’ll take to heart to make my life – and hopefully that of others – better and more complete.  And I’m not alone, studies show that most cancer survivors come away from cancer with a sense of blessing.  Lance Armstrong was crystal clear on what cancer meant to him.  He said:

     “Without cancer I would have never won a single Tour de France.  Cancer taught me a plan for purposeful living, even that in turn taught me how to train and win purposefully.  It taught me that pain has a reason, and that sometimes the experience of losing things – whether health or a car or an old sense of self – has its own value in the scheme of life.  Pain and loss are great enhancers.”

     Whatever the results on Friday, I know – beyond a shadow of a doubt – that having cancer is going to make me a better person.  Take that cancer, and stick it where the sun don’t shine.