A camera-shy cat...

So whenever the camera is off, Dude acts in his normal, peculiar ways. But when it's action time and the camera is rolling, he pretends he's a normal cat. Still trying to capture him doing his quirky things. By the way, ever notice how many cat videos there are on YouTube... and better yet, how each of them seem to have millions and millions of views? Huh.

I am feeing pretty good! About 80-90%, I'd say!

The nerve pain in my feet is slowly improving... and I even spontaneously jogged across the church parking lot today when two little girls were chasing me down. It was epic, relatively speaking.

The docs put me on an antibiotic called Omnicef for 21 days, as well as the steroid nasal spray Flonase, to see if that clears up my sinusitis. Things are better, but far from fixed. Same with bowel problems... gotta diagnose that one further. We've been trying to experiment by removing dairy and/or gluten from the diet, but that's HARD to do!

THANK YOU for checking in!

A clean scan! Three months down...hopefully a long lifetime to go...

Just back from my doctor's appointment at Emory. The CT scan shows no signs of recurrence of the cancer. Candace and I are elated!

The good news doesn't stop there: my white blood count (my immune system), which had been at 1.7 and then 2.0, jumped all the way to 7.4! The normal range is 4.2 to 9.1, so I am smack-dab in the thick of it. While my platelets dropped a little, they are not in the critical zone and this type of drop is less of a concern than my whites. Other counts looked great: Hematocrit (46.7%), Hemoglobin (16.5), RBC count (5.04).

I'm going to get scanned in three more months, and hope for the same result. In the meantime, I have to get a CT scan of my sinuses this Friday, as I've had chronic sinusitis for several months now. I will see an ENT doc to try to figure out what's going on. Since my bowels have been a bit unpredictable (read: irregular and irritable), I am probably going to have to see a GI doc. The sinus and bowel 'problems' are minimal in comparison to the good news related to recurrence and white blood counts!

God has carried me through some fearful nights this past week. All the scenarios running through my head of a possible relapse were playing like a double-feature in my head. At one point, I even remarked that this post-chemo period has been more challenging from a fear and trust perspective, as one fully expects to feel crummy during chemo... but not for months and months after the chemo has ended.

I walked the Light the Night event this past saturday and, of course, didn't take a camera. My feet were burning in pain, but I completed the entire 2-mile walk and enjoyed it thoroughly. Each person was a given a colored balloon: Red for family/supporters, white for patients/survivors, and gold for a lost loved one. There was a sea of red balloons, a few white ones, and many gold ones. Lots of people don't make it. Like Richard. I walked with him in mind, and his name written in marker on my shirt. It was a moving event.

My employer is still on the verge of a major restructuring, or bankruptcy. This is great news. Why? Because coming 'back' to work has been such a nice thing, given the temporary holding pattern we're in. Whenever I feel unproductive or like I'm not 'where I need to be in life', I am reminded that there could've been NO BETTER TIME IN MY LIFE, or even the series of world events, for me to go through chemo and recovery.

The opportunity to see the 'good' coming out of this, and the invitation to give all glory to our God, abounds at every single turn in the road. I am so, so grateful.

Next post to include a Dude (cat) video. He is working on a trick that he wants to share with you.

CT Scan, a new friend with Lymphoma, and a smart cat...

So I had my three-month scan today. Not a PET/CT, but a standalone CT that covered my skull, neck, chest, abdomen, and thighs. I had the tasty two bottles of barium contrast, and also got the IV contrast this time -- which was a first. When you're in the middle of the scan and they inject the IV contrast, it sends a burning hot sensation up your arm, and then into you chest and abdomen. At one point, I thought I had gone to the bathroom on myself, but fortunately it ended up being just a mixed signal to the brain somehow.

The scan results are in, but I won't know them until I sit down with 'Tiger MD' next Wednesday morning. Why rush it? Won't change 'em...

On a less enjoyable note, some close friends introduced me last night to a guy who was just diagnosed with Lymphoma. After speaking with him for what will be the first of many, many conversations to come, I hung up feeling a tinge of anxiety. It was almost as if I was reliving the uncertainty that comes with this sort of life-changing new information. He, like me, is in his 30s, lives in Atlanta, is married and has no children at this point.

I asked him to read me the details of his pathology report. He has been diagnosed with the same Lymphoma as I was initially diagnosed- diffuse large b-cell. Similarly, two oncologists told him to get started with R-CHOP. When he read that his Ki-67 stain, a measure of the proliferative rate of cancer, approached 100%, I insisted that he ask his docs to tell him why he DOESN'T have Burkitt's. For me, the corrected re-diagnosis to Burkitt's from a plain vanilla diffuse large b-stell was only possible after additional testing was pursued. I am very curious if they will request that same additional testing in order to rule out -- or in -- Burkitt's While I certainly hope it's not Burkitt's and that he is able to pursue the less toxic chemo, it will be quite ironic if his experience parallels my own in this aspect. I'll keep current with him, without a doubt.

On a final note, I am very fond of cats. Probably borderline 'cat whisperer'. I try to sweet-talk stranger cats I meet on neighborhood walks, and tend to take pause and consider what to do when I see a mangey dumpster stray scurrying about. So we have two cats-- Dude and (Fat) Mama. Dude is a very needy and loving cat. He meets you at the door, follows you around the house, and insists on nibbling on your ear when you are seated.

I rarely lose my keys. I tend to put them in the same place on the countertop every time I come home. Last week, I had a problem: I lost my keys. How was this possible? I looked in all the likely places, but had no success in finding them. After starting to wonder how in the world I'd find my way out of the predicament, I looked over at Dude, who was sitting still, watching my fruitless search.

I inquired aloud, "Dude! I've gotta find my keys!!"

Though he normally doesn't meow excessively, he let out a long, awkward, labored cry. "Merrreeoooowwwwoooowwwoww."

As he let out this protracted sound, he walked a few steps across the room and rubbed his body against a bag of dog wee-pads (don't ask) that was opened and mostly full. My eyes, as they made contact with his, saw a slight metallic reflection nearby, peeking out from in between these pads--- IN this bag.

Of course. He was showing me where the keys were. He had known all along where they had fallen, out of my pocket several hours earlier that day.

I had to take pictures to prove it -- because it was certainly absurd. Even better, my wife Candace witnessed the entire episode. See the keys hiding in there??? Thanks, Dude!