Cancer, shmancer, abi gesund.  After Monday's full day of tests, we returned to the KU Cancer Center on Friday for the results.  On the outside, everything seemed stable: my left shoulder feels much stronger.  I still can't extend my arm and lift heavy objects, but at least I can extend it farther than before.  The diarrhea seems to have abated somewhat (replaced it's true with evening cramps and a couple of bouts of nausea), but still I feel freed from always worrying about leaving the house.  The fatigue has stayed the same, and the right hip remains stiff.  But it was good to know what was really happening in less visible ways.

Our appointment with Dr. Vanveldhuizen was at 9:20, his first of the day.  Since he is always running late, we thought that we'd get right in.  We did get as far as having my vitals taken immediately--weight, stable; blood pressure, good.  And then we were ushered into the consultation room to wait--for 50 minutes.  We'd already looked in all the drawers (gowns, towels, etc.), so there was nothing new to do there.  A few old magazines were in a plastic holder on the back of the door.  I found one I'd never heard of called Newsmax.  It was an extreme right-wing magazine (a good thing they'd already taken my blood pressure) attacking Obama as a "fraud" and warning Romney that he had better move to the right.  There was an opinion piece by the unspeakable Laura Schlesinger, describing American public schools as a complete failure except when they were a complete success--inculcating secular, humanist values.  Her recommendation was that parents take their children out of public schools and homeschool them.  I wanted to throw the magazine in the trashcan, but contented myself with putting it at the back of the pile of reading material.

Finally, Dr. Van arrived.  The results of the blood work were all good.  The CT scans revealed that the kidney tumor has grown a tiny bit--0.5 cm, which, if I remember my conversion table, is about 1/20th of an inch, a negligible increase.  The same was true of the spots on other bones and organs.  So the news was good: things remain stable, inside as well as out.  I sometimes think there's something strange about me in that I never really worry about getting the results.  I'll have to admit, though, that it was a relief to get such good results.

We talked about future treatment.  For the moment, I'll continue the current regimen.  If, as happened several weeks ago, the treatment becomes too debilitating, I can stop the chemo again for three days, and we'll consider lowering the dosage.  Now, however, I'll stay at 600 mg. a day.  If the primary tumor continues to grow or grows more rapidly, we can do an ablation (burning the tumor).  For stages I and II kidney cancer (when the cancer hasn't spread or has spread only to neighboring organs), the tumor can be removed surgically.  But once it's spread throughout the body, as mine has, surgery isn't usually recommended.   Dr. Van also always discussed the most extreme possibility--treatment with Interferon or Interleukin-2.  In a small percentage (4-5%) of patients with metastatic kidney cancer, the treatment produces a "durable cure."  But the treatment, which is done over five days in the hospital,  is extremely toxic, often damaging the heart, liver, and kidneys.  Given the low chances of success, my health history, my age, and the organs already affected, we had, I thought, already agreed that it wasn't worth the risk, but I think Dr. Van feels he isn't doing his job if he doesn't bring it up--only to rule it out--at each consult.

So yesterday the news was good.  We had another delay because Dr. Van had forgotten to write a script, and we had to wait until he was done with his next consultation to remind him.  But then it was back to Topeka, where I treated myself to a juicy, medium-rare hamburger and then headed directly to bed.

Thanks to all of you who e-mailed or called to express concern and to hear the results.