Cancer Update - One

It has occurred to me that I should, from time to time, post status updates on my health. But first, I should probably give an account of what is actually wrong with me so that the updates can be viewed in context and not just as a random information dump of abstract things like, it shrunk or for some reason I can taste it or even its moving around and attempting to crawl out of my eye. If the latter actually happens, they will make a movie of my life and my kids will never have to worry about finances again (worth it).

In order to bring you up to speed on my condition, I first need to educate you or give you the tools to decipher the complex and overwhelming cancer lingo, multifarious scientific measurements used to calculate a patient’s health and the pop-cancer-culture - what’s popular (being bald) and what’s not popular (not being bald), etc… You can think of this first part of the post as a technical manual to brain cancer or a kind of secret decoder ring that will enable you to precisely analyze with precision and preciseness of what exactly is ailing me in such an precise manner that you might be in danger of being labeled precisionist (spell check tried to make this say percussionist – that would have made this sentence plain ridiculous…and imprecise).  

The first part of comprehension is learning the lingo. Most of the cancer vernacular that is not doctor-patient related can be found in motivational phrases on posters, bumper stickers, t-shirts, hats, bracelets and billboards that are designed to not only develop an awareness, but to raise the necessary funding for curing cancer – live strong, I love boobies (which even when written on a hat, bracelet or bumper sticker will still cause you to stare directly at the boobs of the slogan bearer), bald is beautiful and finally smell my prostate (definitely the least effective slogan of all the cancers).  Here’s the take away, as long as what you are saying is positive, motivational, encouraging or beautiful, you are speaking the glorious cancer vernacular spoken by the struggling and frightened (suck it other terminal diseases with crappy slogans).

The next part of this intense and educational post will teach you how to understand brain cancer severity. There are 4 general types of malignant brain tumors; Stage four being the worst and stage one being the least worst – since all cancer is severe and tragic it would not be appropriate to say the best brain cancer to have is stage one… but it’s kind of true (lucky stage ones). A stage-four brain tumor is extremely aggressive and is called a glioblastoma (I am fortunate to not have a glioblastoma and can barely begin to imagine what they are going through). Stage-three is called an anaplastic astrocytoma (this is me). Stage-three is less aggressive and slower growing tumor – It takes a lot more work to nurture one into adult-hood than it does with the first two stages. Mine is now about 6 or 7 years old and hopefully dying an excruciatingly painful death (I’m sure that “Meat Wad” -the name of my tumor- feels the same about me).

Moving on, I have saved the most complicated aspect of cancer for last: scientific measurements. There are four basic ways, plus countless variations, in which to measure a tumor. They are: the drinking-ball scale, the fruit & nut scale, the hard currency scale and the pencil-as-a-ruler scale. Probably the easiest and most comprehensive scale for most people to understand is the fruit & nut scale. Covering the span of almond to watermelon, the fruit & nut scale is also the largest and most diversified of all the scales (if your tumor is the size of a watermelon you will probably be giving birth to something soon). But, for what it accomplishes in breadth and layman comprehension, it lacks in accuracy: There is no standard size for a grapefruit, orange, apple or peanut.

After the all encompassing fruit & nut scale, the next scales are used in order for a more accurate measurement starting with the drinking ball scale. Tumors are only measured in balls that can be played with while drinking alcohol - I am not talking about your own balls here (or your friends either pervert). The most common of the ball measurements are golf, hacky-sack, ping-pong and pin. Next, we move to the hard currency scale that includes quarters, nickels, pennies and then dimes before moving into the pencil-as-a-ruler scale that offers only the size of an eraser to the tip of pencil (the best size possible before remission occurs).

Okay, now you are informed enough to understand anything I have to say about my disease. In a nutshell (not the measurement, just the saying), I have a stage-three anaplastic astrocytoma. It started off the size of a hacky-sack and after surgery, radiation (a lifetime’s worth) and chemotherapy, it has shrunk to the size of a quarter. The surgery caused paralysis of my right side, completely eliminated my foot, outer facing leg muscles and hamstring. Necrosis (dead brain matter) has further complicated the issue by blocking neural-pathways and further decreasing my connections to the right side of my body (it is super cool looking when I try to jump or jog).

So, now the update on my condition: My recent MRI has shown a large (possibly dead) spot surrounding “Meat Wad” (like a beautiful gray mushy aura or halo).

This is either one of two things:

1. The tissue around Meat Wad is continuing to die and I am slowly becoming the walking dead (if I can catch somebody then I can eat them).

Or

2. The tumor is growing and I am becoming an incubator for a Sigourney Weaver type of alien (I will be eaten instead).

Yesterday I had a PET scan to confirm whether “Meat Wad” is growing or dieing. My next post (sometime next week after my next doctors appointment) will elaborate on the PET scan – what it is, how it works and what it does.