Here We Go

I can't tell you how or why, but I knew that something was brewing and it wasn't good.

I guess the pains I had through my right side for a month tipped me off that something was up. And when the ultra-sound earlier this week picked out a "bright spot" in my kidney I accepted right away that the cancer had spread. Plus, when you've been in a position such as I for more than a year, you come to accept the reality that a spread of the cancer could happen at any time.

So when I talked to my doctor yesterday and he gave me the news that there were three "lesions" in my liver I really took it in stride. Of course it's not what I wanted to hear. But I almost expected it.

My reaction wasn't, "Oh no! How could this happen?"

My reaction was, "OK. So what can we do about it?"

Some of my doctors have been very disappointing the past month. I virtually begged my oncologist to pay attention to the pains that were inflicting my right torso (pains that are now completely gone). He suggested that maybe I should go to the emergency room or see my primary doctor. I took that as showing no interest, and really just blowing me off.

Barb and I meet with him today and I'm going to politely push him for explanations of his sudden disinterest. It's certainly obvious now that he should have gotten involved.

And the kidney specialist at the University of Pennsylvania sent me to see a surgeon, a "friend of his," who he knew was doing a procedure known as "ablation." Ablation is a relatively new procedure where needles are inserted into the middle of a tumor and then the tumor is burned or frozen. It's a minimally invasive procedure that can be done on an out-patient basis. Hospitals have been too slow at integrating this technique. And when I met the surgeon in Philly, who I was told had done dozen of ablations with great success, he told me that he had never done an ablation procedure.

OK.

So I'm putting my foot down, politely, with my doctors now, no more screwing around.

My primary doctor is awesome. And it's become obvious to me that he should really be my point-man, my go-to-guy.

Today we'll give the Lancaster oncologist a chance to really get involved again. But if he shows little interest, then I'll be going right back to my primary doctor.

It's disappointing to see how little doctors talk to doctors. In this age of specialists, though, it's crucial that doctors communicate, and communicate well.

I have a strong feeling that my oncologist today is going to pass-the-buck and simply say, "I want to send you to Philly."

But I'm done with wild goose chases in Philly. I'm going to ask him to forget about Philly, and tell me what he thinks, and tell me what he would do. If he wants to consult with doctors at the University of Pennsylvania I think that's great. I think he should. Just don't send me down there to wait for four-hours to see the wrong doctor, and discuss medical treatment plans that I'm not qualified to discuss.

I've been explaining to people that when the cancer spread to my brain in March of last year that it was serious. It was life threatening. We treated it and it was rough. But I made it and pulled through strong in the end. And the brain has been clear ever since.

I expect now to take the same approach to the cancer in the liver. Be aggressive, go after it, and knock it out of there. As long as I can convince the doctors to take the same approach.

Kidney cancer still has no cure, at least not yet. But there are two FDA approved chemotherapies I've yet to try. Plus there are two more chemotherapy drugs currently before the FDA for approval, one has already been approved for treatment in two other types of cancer. There are also surgery options for the liver, including ablation and traditional surgery, or possibly a combination of both considering the sizes and locations of the tumors.

So, giddy-up, let's go. As of this morning my full-time job is attacking this thing.