I really AM sick…
I continue to attend my conference in San Juan, PR over the last several days, but instead of enjoying my Caribbean “working vacation” I have spent much of the last 2 days not feeling well. As I have said previously, pancreas cancer is generally asymptomatic, yet this unexplained pain in my abdomen has done what all the various doctor’s visits and medical tests have failed to do: Remind me that I have cancer. Waking up with pain, having to regularly ingest pain medication to reduce the discomfort enough that I can attend the actual conference presentations; having to move slowly so I don’t bump or jostle my innards.
I have been more aware of my cancer in the last week than I had been since just after my surgery. The last couple of days, I have just felt sick. My colleagues here at the conference that know about my condition continue to be worried when they see me amble into the presentations (not to mention my wife worrying about my potential need to access the health care system while I’m in PR). In fact, MaryBeth can rest easy when I say that Kathy, a colleague whom I met over 2 years ago and have subsequently developed a very strong friendship, has been on a “Merle you need to take care of yourself” kick (and though I grouse when she pesters me to eat, for example, I really do appreciate that she and others care enough to pester and hound me).
Early in my illness, I used to categorize my days as either good days or bad days. At that time, a good day was one in which I was not consumed with thoughts of my recently diagnosed cancer; a bad day was one in which the “what ifs” associated with my cancer took over my conscious thoughts. Unfortunately, the last couple of days also fit into the “bad day” category. One of the “benefits” of having pancreas cancer is that it’s generally asymptomatic until the disease had substantially progressed and developed.
Despite that the diagnostic information (e.g., x-rays, CT scans, blood work) already collected by my docs seems to indicate that this currently unexplained pain is NOT obviously associated with my pancreas cancer. Nevertheless, the pain and discomfort is very real and runs along (and to the right) of my surgical incision. So, being someone who tends to worry, I remain concerned about this currently unexplained pain.
This may sound morbid and to be clear I do NOT have a death wish, but there is a piece of me that wishes that a tumor would be found and the doctors could tell me you have x-number of months of good health left. Again, I want to put off my death for as long as i can. (Amusing side note: Lisa, a friend from church, told me about a conversation she had had with a colleague in which the colleague had said something like, “If I’m going to die….” Lisa broke into laughter, as she is apt to do when people say silly things, and responded, “Do you know something I don’t?” All this to say that we are ALL going to die, so it’s just kinda silly to make a statement about “IF” I’m going to die…Okay, perhaps it loses something in the translation, but I found it amusing.)
I don’t like not knowing what’s going to happen. Am I part of that fringe group that will make it to 5 years? (My friend Anna has specifically told me that I AM the fringe, so she has no doubt that I’ll beat this disease.) As best as I can tell, I am going to continue with and complete my current chemo treatment regimen, and then wait to see whether the cancer comes back. Dr. Kauh said something along the lines of “We’ll finish your treatment and then cross our fingers.” As I have said previously, I am Type A enough that I will likely experience increased anxiety as we “wait and see.” Being told an endpoint would, at least, allow me to come to grips with that eventuality and get my affairs in order. There would be stress (to be sure) associated with being given that kind of endpoint information, at least it would give me a timeline within which to work — I often work better when their is (pardon the pun) a deadline.
Let me say, though, that it is easy to be glib about this situation (being given a limited amount of time of good health left), because I’m not expecting it to happen anytime soon. I think I would be significantly less glib if I were to go to my doctor’s appointment next Wednesday and was given that kind of information. I guess I’m trying to say that it’s easier to be “brave” in the face of cancer, when you don’t expect that you’re likely to get such information.
So this turned out to be more rambling than I intended. To sum up: (a) I’m in PR trying to have fun while attending a professional conference; (b) i have fairly intense pain (when not treated with appropriate medication) that has impacted my SJQOL (San Juan Quality of Life); and (c) being in this situation has led me to be a bit maudlin in my cognitive musings. Maybe tomorrow I can write something that is light and fluffy! 
Until then…
Merle