Update on Tabby: 2-6-2013

Before I get too far into this, I need to say something.  Thank you to everyone who reads these, comments on them, shares them, etc.  There's not a whole lot, at this point, I can do or that anyone can do, but it is appreciated.

Yesterday, we went back to Austin to visit with Tabby's doctor and get the results of her latest CT scan.  We expected everything to be stable.  Our expectations were not met.  The tumors have grown.  Significantly.  What that means is that the last year of chemotherapy Tabby has endured has done nothing more than hold it at bay.  It hasn't ben successful in fighting it.  We are all very disappointed.

So what does that mean?  First, back into chemotherapy for Tabby, but this time without the "hooded nightmare" cisplaten, or the torture-drug nulasta.  She's using a drug called Taxol, and will be infused with it once a week for, likely, the rest of her life. In two weeks, we look again to see if there needs to be adjustments made on the dosage, if she's allergic to it, or if it is having any effect whatsoever.  This new drug does have a lower success rate than the first.  If this one fails, there's one other, and it has a lower percentage still.

The doctor was very clear:  She told Tabby that there would come a point where Tabby would have to make a decision.  People who are not in chemotherapy do tend to feel better than those who are not, but they live longer.  Tabby nodded her head and said "Okay.  Let's fight."

Define "tenacity."  Look it up in any dictionary, and you should find a photo of my wife.

There's not much else for me to say at this point.  I continue to watch over her, try to provide comfort for her and my girls, and keep doing what I do because the world, in general, doesn't give a damn.  No matter what happens, the world will keep turning, bills will still need to be paid, and people will still expect things to get done.  And someone has to do them.  So I'm doing them.

I was asked what effect this had on our day to day lives.  I can't even begin to answer that question without sounding like whining, so I won't.  I'll just say there's been a huge impact, the likes of which I hope no one I know will ever endure.  Emotionally, financially, psychologically...  Cancer doesn't just claim one person.  It claims families.  It claims friends.  Those of us that must, do what we must.

Tabby doesn't have an expiration date.  She's planning on fighting until she can't anymore.  How long that will be is anyone's guess.  And I'll be the guy in her corner screaming at her to get back up and fight.  Because I love her.  And because that's what we do.

SAJ

Personal Fitness and Health

Most often, I use this blog to talk about whatever strikes my fancy.  Recently, it's been a way to keep all you good folks updated on what's happening with Tabby's fight against cervical cancer.  And while that is currently the most important thing going on in my life, I got inspired to do a short-ish entry on my personal battle with weight loss.  Why?  Because it's my blog and I can.  Also, because the last few entries have been damned depressing (rightfully so) and I wanted to put something positive up.

A little history:  When Tabby and I got married, I weighed 142 pounds and has six percent body fat.  Six.  As in "almost none."  I was very lean, could eat anything I wanted, and still fit in a pair of pants with a 27-inch waist.  Those were the days.  Over the years, (19 of them, in fact), I saw a gradual increase in weight brought on by a multitude of factors, the biggest one being I simply love food and didn't exercise self-control.  I like to blame Tabby's cooking, but if I'm being honest, I did it to myself.  I packed on about 100 pounds of shame.  That's right, at my biggest, I weighed in at 240 pounds.  For a guy that's only (slightly under) 5'7" that's a whole 'nother person.  I came to a monumental decision that is still affecting my life, but in a positive way.  I needed to be more healthy.  In light of current circumstances, I really needed to be more healthy.  So I took a few steps.

First, I quit smoking.  It's been close to three years now, and I'm not picking it back up.  I did, however, substitute food for cigarettes, which resulted in the afore-mentioned ballooning of my weight.  Then I decided it was time to make things better.

Step one:  Gym membership.  The university for which I work (AKA:  "The Day Job") has a "wellness program" that allows employees to take 30 minutes of their day for personal wellness or fitness requirements.  My boss was kind enough to allow me to add those 30 minutes to my lunch hour, which allowed me an hour and a half to walk to the Student Recreation Center (which is the most kick-ass gym a guy could want), work out, shower, and get back.

Step two:  The workout.  For me, it's strict cardio for now.  The elliptical is both my best friend and my most hated instrument of torture.  Every day, I walk to the gym, follow the "fat burning" setting, and flat-out run for 35 minutes.  By the time I'm done, my shirt is soaked, my lungs burn, and my legs ache, but that's a good thing.  I think.  I follow it up with about 10 minutes of intense stretching of my legs.

Step three:  Bonus workout.  To begin with, I still am the assistant coach of the Texas State University Karate Team.  I'm a 4th degree black belt in Kajukenbo, and have the reputation of being somewhat of a sadist where workouts are concerned.  When I show up for class, it's all business, and I work the students until I'm sure they'll be sore in the morning.  I do the same workout they do, putting my body through the ringer until I, like they, are soaked with sweat.  On days when I don't go to the gym (because it's in another town), I try to get out and walk two or three miles through my neighborhood.

Step four:  Calorie counting.  It's a well-known, but often despised, fact of weight loss that, in order to lose weight, a person has to expend more calories than he is taking in.  If there's another way of doing it, someone please tell me what it is.  To that end, I downloaded a calorie tracker on my phone and enter in EVERYTHING I eat every day.  I also add in my exercises.

So how's that working out for me, you ask?  Starting from a weight of 240 lbs, I'm now down to 200 lbs, with an end goal of 180 lbs.  I've dropped several inches in my waist, my kilts fit better, and I can now walk across campus without getting winded.  I can also now out work (almost) every kid in the karate class, which, considering I'm going to be 42 years old in two months, is no small feat.  There are other benefits that I didn't count on.

• Food actually tastes better.  Not sure if that's from not smoking, the weight loss, or a combination of the two. 
• I have a better mental outlook.
• My knees and hips don't hurt as often as they used to.
• My back doesn't hurt as often or as much as it used to. 
• I have so much more energy. 

I guess my point here isn't to preach or say that everyone needs to get on the fitness bandwagon.  I'm saying I did what was right for me.  My body, though far from perfect, is still a work in progress.  And if this little blog entry inspires just one person to maybe get up and try to improve their physical health, then I'm glad to have provided that service.  

I wish everyone who reads this long life and good health!  

Update on Tabby - 12/31/2012 Taking a Break

We went in to see the doctor today with a great deal of trepidation.  Tabby's body has taken as much abuse as a human body can, and it's starting to wear on her.  Apparently, most people can't take two full batteries of cisplaten-laced chemotherapy, and Tabby's done that and smiled through it.  But recently, her body has begun showing signs of wear.  Constant vomiting, constant fatigue, bone loss, muscle loss...  It's a fight.  A serious fight for her life.

Often, Tabby's doctor has offered to give her a break.  Every other time, Tabby's said she could handle it.  This time, however, we recognized that she needed a break.  Her body stopped recovering between chemotherapy sessions, and I wasn't sure if the cure was hurting her worse than the disease.  So this time, she said she needed the break.  The doctor agreed.  She needs to recover.

So here's the long and the short of what's happening for now:  First, no round 14.  Chemo stops now.  No more nulasta, no more cisplaten, no more beating her to death with this stuff...For now.  Tabby will go back for another CT scan in February to see if the tumors have grown or stayed the same, and we'll figure out what to do from there.

The good news is, she will have time to recover, to purge the poison from her body.  She'll rest, regain some of her strength, and maybe her appetite again.  There will be no three-to-four days of hell while nulasta makes her bones ache.  We might be able to get somewhat caught up on the mounting medical bills.  But there is a down side.  First, we don't know what stopping treatment, even for a month, will do.  It could do nothing.  It could spiral out of control.  It could do a number of things that I don't want to think about.

So here we are...About to begin the new year.  In fact, it's the last day of 2012, and we're looking forward with uncertainty.  We don't know what 2013 will bring, only that with uncertainty comes even a glimmer of hope.

Again, and again and again, thank you to everyone who has wished Tabby well, sent gifts, bought copies of DROPLETS, and kept us in your thoughts and prayers.  Every message she receives, every card, gives her strength and courage.   I'll let you know what happens in February.  Until then, please keep her and our girls in your thoughts. Make no mistake, this is stage 4-b cancer.  This literally is a fight for her life.  The odds are long and stacked against her.  But she's going to keep fighting.