Kidney Don't Fail Me Now!

(Note: I was drained by the happenings yesterday (Tuesday) that even though I started this entry late Tuesday, I had trouble focusing and finishing. I'm putting the final touches on this Wednesday morning). The toughest part is just not knowing. If I know I can prepare myself. But if I don't know, then I need to figure out how to appear positive on the outside while always being mentally prepared for the worst. So today, when I got some good news, it was very hard to contain myself. Yesterday I spent the day at City of Hope getting three things done - nuclear bone scan, a CT of my chest, and a CT of by abdomen and pelvis. The doc is looking for a couple things, both pretty scary: #1: Has the cancer spread? The bone scan will tell him if the cancer has mestastacized into my bones (the initial problem that my hematologist was trying to figure out was high calcium levels in my blood). Likewise, the chest CT will help the doctors determine  if the cancer has spread there. #2: How b

So the call from the gastroenterologist was actually good news. No blood or active bleeding noted. What was more important was what wasn't mentioned. There wasn't mention of "C". See? I got all would up about nothing. But I guess when you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail.

I've been at City of Hope waiting to get a bone scan and a couple of CT scans. Got here at 8:45 and got the nuclear dye injection for the bone scan at 9:00. Talk about customer service! My appointment was 9:15. In what universe do you actually get in for a doctor's appointment sooner  than your scheduled time? But now I'm getting a call from my gastroenterologist's office to schedule a virtual appointment to discuss the results of last week's capsule endoscopy. What did she find that I don't want to hear? Guess I'll find out in a couple hours.

This one has been a source of stress for a few days. I've been keeping this from my mom. Dad passed about 8 months ago. She's been in assisted living since just before then, and not really liking it. She's pretty fragile at this point, with Parkinson's really starting to take hold. My concern is that she comes from the generation where no one survives cancer. Last thing I want is to do is put more stress on her. I contemplated not telling her. I contemplated telling her that I was going to need a surgery, but not why. It was really bugging me. In the end, I got some good advice from a couple of friends this week. One of them reminded me that after 90+ years of life, she's capable of processing the news.  Likewise, I would want to be there for my kids if they were facing a similar situation. So today I broke the news. To my two friends - you were right. I'm also feeling better. Another stress off my chest. Tomorrow I'm back to City of Hope for imaging and a b

Disclaimer: I've made a decision that I'm going to keep others that I may write about in this blog anonymous. I am deeply appreciative for all the love and empathy that I am receiving from old friends. There's one message in particular that I received a couple days ago that let me start my Saturday on the right foot. Thank you to that old friend. I realized last night that yesterday was kind of a normal day. Got up early, had my coffee. Listened to Morning Edition while scanning the WaPo and the OC Register. Go through my email from the previous day. Planned the menu and made the shopping list for the week. Chopped up an onion and potato and cooked up some hash for breakfast. Headed out for my weekly car wash. Special trip this week to Costco. Then the regular shopping cycle of Trader Joe's, Mission Ranch Market, and Stater Brothers. Back home for lunch. Quick nap (thanks to being bright eyed and bushy tailed at 4:30AM). Whip up some zucchini and corn fritters and grill

Today is the first day in a while (a few weeks) where I was able to stay focused on work all day. I also slept soundly for 8 hours last night (albeit in 2 shifts). If this continues tomorrow, I think I have to give some credit to the people at City of Hope for taking the stress of scheduling my appointments and leaving me with the feeling of confidence that everything will be taken care of for me. There *is* one thing that I miss. Friday night poker. I miss getting out of the house, which doesn't happen very often working from home). I miss the drive down the coast. I miss using my analytical mind. But I've also made up my mind that it's just not worth the risk of getting sick and putting my surgery at risk. With my surgery I stand a chance. Without it, well....  

Fell asleep tonight at 7:30 (it's now 12:50AM). Don't know if it's because of the relief from knowing my future is in good hands at this point or whether I'm sufferring from one of the side effects of "C".  It's hard to stay optimistic yet realistic.

 Earlier this morning I was hoping some things would go my way today: 8:30AM: I receved an email that I have a new message in MyCityof Hope. The message is from Dr. Yamzon asking if 8/04 surgery date works. (YESSSSS!!!!). I fist pump and responded yes. Ran into my wife's office (the bedroom) and let her know. Fist pumps all around. 10:04AM: Call from a 626 number. (Don't let phone spammers know - but I'm answering all calls these days). It's Tony from City of Hope. In one call we schedule and confirm surgery date (8/4), pre-op (7/21), Covid test (8/1). I ask about imaging. We schedule bone scan and 2 CT scans for Monday (6/27). It's about 6:15PM right now, but I think the feeling of relief is still there. I can breathe. This is way better than Tuesday when I had to take a day off work and spend most of it on the phone with multiple imaging centers before calling in a favor from my brother-in-law to get someone on the inside at Memorialcare Saddleback to get the bone

 It's just before 7 AM. A couple thoughts and hopes for today: Great meeting with Dr. Yamzon at City of Hope yesterday. I really feel good about transferring my care there. Everything depends on when they are able to get me in for surgery. I have a 7/7 date with Cedars, but would prefer COH if I can get in sometime in July. Dr. Yamzon ordered a couple of CT scans (CT of the chest, CT of the abdomen and pelvis) and a bone scan for tomorrow. Hoping to hear about this early today as well so I can make arrangements to head out to Duarte tomorrow. I sure hope things go my way today.

The call came in at about 4:30PM, Friday June 3. I had just gotten home from getting a CT scan and chest xray as I completed the pain in the ass lab tests and imaging ordered by my new hematologist/oncologist as he tried to eliminate standard causes of hypercalcemia originall diagnosed by my PCP and confimred by my endocrinologist.  "Glenn, your CT scan shows a giant mass on your left kidney. It's about 17cm. We've got to get it out of there. I'll refer you to a urologist immediately. We may have just saved your life. Do you have any questions?" By this time, we wife had hurried into the room.  "Uh. Uh. Ummm. No I guess not," is all I could stammer. My wife asked, "Did he say 17 cm ?" I guess my journey begins as soon as I pick myself up off the floor.