This page gives you the latest information on Dale’s health.
April 20, 2014
Easter Sunday
I have been so healthy for the last year that I have not updated my medical report since June 2013. No news is good news I guess. My MRI’s have shown the same image for nearly two years. The tumor image is still present, but about 1/10th the size it was at its worst, and stable. I think of it like the fig tree that Jesus cursed, telling it “You will never bear fruit again.” Like the fig tree, I think of the tumor as still present, but withered up and incapable of life. My doctor has wondered aloud whether the tumor is viable any more.
Easter Sunday is a good day to give thanks for life, for stepping back from the grave. However long I live, my experience of brain cell cancer has been remarkable in its departure from the normal progress of the disease. I have moved from having MRI’s every 2 months to every 3 months. Last Monday my doctor and I agreed to go 4 months. Call it remarkable or call it a miracle…whatever it is, I am glad for it.
I stopped taking chemotherapy 14 months ago and have felt stronger and healthier ever since. Now I have started praying that God would heal any areas of my brain that were damaged by the tumor.
I feel like my life is in God’s hands. My scripture reading this Easter morning said “The Lord will do what is good in his sight” (2 Samuel 10:12). I am good with that. And grateful too for everything the medical community at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance has done for me.
June 7, 2013
Today I had my second MRI since stopping chemotherapy four months ago. The imaging is the same as it was at the last MRI, and the eleven MRIs before that. The tumor remains small and inactive. It is good news that the tumor is not growing now that I have stopped chemotherapy.
Because statistically I am doing so much better than most people with this brain cancer, there is no way to predict what will happen now. While my neuro-oncologist still believes the tumor is fatal and will grow again at some time, he said today “It could go on this way for a long time.”
Personally my goal is to die in 20 years of something totally unrelated to brain cancer.
October 14, 2012
My MRI on Thursday showed no change in the tumor, which has been stable for several months now, no longer shrinking but not growing either.
We had a good talk with Dr. Chamberlain about remaining on Temodar chemo treatment for at least four more cycles. There is no apparent downside to continuing the treatments, except for the 4 or 5 days I am not feeling quite up to par energy-wise. There may also be no benefit. That cannot be determined at this stage. I begin chemo week #21 tomorrow, so four treatments take me through January, and 22 months after diagnosis.
Dr. Chamberlain calls me an “outlier,” too far outside the statistical averages for any predictability about what will happen next.
Meanwhile I am feeling good, being as optimistic as I can, remembering to be thankful for life, and still seeking your prayers that the tumor will disappear. I might as well be the farthest out outlier I can be.
September 24, 2012
I finished chemotherapy round #20 last Friday and will finish feeling the side effects by tomorrow. The side effects remain the same—lack of energy and motivation, and a slightly upset stomach occasionally. I am fortunate compared with what many people suffer with chemotherapy.
No MRI this month, so no imaging news. Blood work results are normal as always.
I am doing well and feeling well, and will be until something changes. Only God, apparently, can say when any change will come, and what the change will be. I continue to pray for the tumor to disappear; and at the same time seek to be content with God’s will whatever happens.
The scripture for my life right now is James 4:13-15. “Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a town and spend a year there, doing business and making money.’ Yet you do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wishes, we will live and do this and that.’”
I am feeling like more than a mist, but also realizing that my permanence is not here on this earth.
When I was originally diagnosed, we pressed my doctor for a timeline. He said that the average survival time with this cancer is 18 to 24 months. Next Monday I reach 18 months. I have a lot of reasons to remain in this world, so if you are willing to join in praying me through the next 6 months, I will be grateful. Statistically my chances of surviving “a long time” go way up if I make it through month 24.
August 22, 2012
I had my latest MRI and doctor consultation last Monday. I continue to do very well. The big issue on Monday was the decision to end or continue the chemo treatments.
The brain tumor is now small and stable, and there is no certainty that the chemo treatments are having any impact on the tumor. It may be dormant, and remain dormant for some time without chemo. On the other side, the longer I continue chemo the greater the risk to my immune system or to stimulating leukemia. In this situation I find that statistics and percentages have some relevance. 30% of people with oligodendroglioma experience tumor growth within 6 months of stopping treatment. 60 to 70% experience growth within a year. Do these statistics apply to someone who is off the charts with a remarkable response to treatment; someone who has so many people around the world praying for healing? Concerning my immune system, regular blood tests have always confirmed no weakening due to the chemo. If I ate a banana daily there would be no red numbers (out of normal range) on my chart. Concerning leukemia, 2% of patients who continue Temodar treatments for a long time get leukemia. That seems a small risk.
Last month I finished chemo treatment #18. Most people don’t get to #18, but I am going strong and feeling great except for chemo week tiredness. I have to confess that I am pretty annoyed by losing 6 to 8 days of each month to feeling anywhere from mildly tired to exhausted. I seem to have more and more reasons to want to not be tired or feel a little sidelined with so many things to do and people to spend time with. So when do we quit the chemo?
Dr. Chamberlain said it was up to me, and was mostly about quality of life. Are the chemo treatments so exhausting that the quality of my life suffers? My answer is that I am annoyed but not suffering. So I decided to continue the treatments (#19 occurring as I write), and to be more careful about minimizing physical exertion during chemo week and maximizing a positive attitude. Instead of dreading its approach and expecting to be pretty tired, I am living with optimism and even giving thanks to God as I swallow those 4 little poison pills each night for 5 nights. In other words I am experimenting with minimizing the chemo side effects by paying more careful attention to how I think and how I use my energy.
I am still wishing for the day that the MRI shows no evidence of tumor. That has never happened according to Doctor Chamberlain, but perhaps there will be a first time. I plan to go back to visit and update some of the worshipping communities who have prayed for me in the past year; to ask them to pray for total healing, if that is in God’s will. We might as well break some records and plow some new ground in the medical history of oligodendroglioma if that is what God has in mind.
June 26, 2012
My most recent MRI was on Monday, followed by my appointment with my neuro-oncologist. The MRI showed that the tumor was about the same as in April…no significant change from last time, but very much smaller than a year ago. To me “stable” is not as good as “continued shrinkage” but better than “growth.” Hearing the report my daughter Katy said “When the heck is that thing going to get out of there?” My doctor’s consistent answer is “Never.” This tumor, he says, always eventually kills.
I, on the other hand, am still hoping that the words of Jesus that a friend sent me from Vietnam are true in my case: “This illness is not unto death.”
My doctor did mention again possible years of survival instead of the months he normally talks about. And mentioned to a colleague that I have friends who call on higher powers, and it seems to be helping. Keep it up friends! We are always grateful for your prayers.
Our main conversation during this appointment was about when we might decide to end the Temodar chemotherapy treatments. When I was diagnosed, Dr. C. said we would do 6-8 treatments and “see where we are at that point.” After I responded so much better than many, he mentioned that in Europe they have done 18-24 treatments. This week I am on round #17. Apparently there may be some risk that long term Temodar usage creates susceptibility to leukemia. Also if the tumor has stabilized continued treatment can possibly irritate the tumor into finding a way to adjust to the chemo and begin to grow again. Thus a decision is coming sometime in the next several months about whether to continue or discontinue the Temodar. Dr. C. says that we are approaching the need to practice the “art” of medicine, by which he means taking an educated guess about the best course of treatment when science does not provide certainty.
As you might expect, anticipating the need to make a change creates some anxiety on our part. If the tumor shrinks again we will certainly continue the Temodar for a while. If it “gets the heck out of there” we will feel better about stopping the treatments. If the tumor stabilizes we will practice the arts of medicine and faith.
Thanks for your prayers about this decision.
Meanwhile I am feeling stronger than any time in the previous 14 months. I elaborate on that in a new “Buggy Report” in another section of our blog. You have not heard from Buggy in a long time. Check him out.
May 29, 2012
No MRI this month, so my visit with my neuro-oncologist was pretty routine. All my blood work was normal, as it has been every month since the beginning.
The interesting issue that came up was about future treatments. Originally my doctor said we would do 6 to 8 rounds of chemotherapy using the oral drug Temodar. After I responded so well, he said that we might go as high as 18 to 24 treatments. This week I am finishing round #16. And my doctor is beginning to think about when we stop the Temodar. Although this drug has no potential to damage organs, he is not sure it will remain effective through too many more rounds. And if it is not showing effectiveness, then we should probably discontinue. And after that, what?
When I mentioned that according to his numbers for his measurements of the MRI tumor images, the tumor has shrunk about 80% since May, 2011, he seemed skeptical. My guess is that beginning next month we will be doing careful measurements and paying close attention to whether or not the tumor continues to shrink. Until now general estimates have been good enough. We know the Temodar has been remarkably effective. As we approach the 18 to 24 phase of chemo treatments and have to determine what to do next, being more precise may be more important.
He will also be attending a conference this month where he and other experts will be sharing the newest information on treatment for oligodendrogliomas.
I won’t be unhappy to be done with chemotherapy, if that is what happens. But it is a little anxiety producing to be talking about a change in treatment, or no treatment at all for a while as we observe how the tumor responds.
Any prayers for wisdom for us and for the medical people are thus appreciated.
May 4, 2012
Small things first. I ate my banana before my April 30 blood test, so the blood test turned out great as it always does. Never any sign of weakening immune system due to chemotherapy. And no slightly low potassium since I remembered the banana.
The big news is good news and a surprise. After several months of tumor stability, the tumor shrank again since the last MRI. Measurements are not totally accurate, but they showed an almost 20% shrinkage compared to January 2012. After Jinny and I got home we looked up the measurements from May 2011, which was the first tumor measurement. If our math is right the tumor has shrunk a total of almost 80% since last May.
My neuro-oncologist is unwilling to say that the general prognosis has changed (from the average survival time of 1 ½ to 2 years). But he does say that my prospects get better in increments: 6 months survival makes the probability of lengthened life better; then 12 months better still; then 18 months, etc. Right now I have finished 12 months. He also says that the tumor shrinking early in treatment rather than late has got to be a good sign. And of course that it is shrinking again after 4 months of stability has to be good.
I am in chemo round #15 this week. I think I miscounted and took 5 pills Wednesday night (either that or the pharmacy miscounted because I am one short for tonight) and I was totally wiped out yesterday. I did nothing but sleep all day, wake up to watch an evening movie which I slept through, and then sleep all night. Today I have much more energy.
Thanks to everyone who has been sending prayers to God, and love and good thoughts our way. Since the tumor is only about 1/5th of its size a year ago, let’s go for it and pray for its total disappearance. Or envision its disappearance if you don’t pray. I am waiting for the time I am told “The MRI must have malfunctioned because there is no tumor image. We need to do it again.” And then after we do it again they decide the MRI functioned fine but the tumor is gone.
Regarding why I am so fortunate when many others whom we love do not get these results—I don’t have a clue. It is a mystery that I have thought about a great deal in the past year. I have not found a good answer. My only conclusion is that, whatever happens in response to our prayers and desires for healing, God is good and can be trusted to make it all turn out ok “when all is known at story’s end.”
In addition to the tumor news, I have been feeling better than any time since before the diagnosis, chemo week excepted of course.
March 7, 2012
I had my March MRI on Monday along with our consultation with Dr. Chamberlain. Nothing new to report. If you read the January 27 report, it pretty much describes the way things are. This month the MRI showed no tumor shrinkage, and no tumor growth. Stability. For how long is the question. Dr. Chamberlain seems to think stability could go on for a long time. All blood counts are normal except I didn’t eat my banana Monday morning (slightly low potassium).
Next Thursday will be one year from the first MRI which found the tumor. Without Dr. Naina (neuro-surgeon who did the brain biopsy), Dr. Chamberlain (neuro-oncologist), our beloved oncology nurse Candice, and the brain cancer drug Temodar, plus the thousands of prayers for me over the year, I could be close to dying. Instead I am on chemo round 13, going strong, living normally and feeling good.
Last month I had a fairly miserable chemo round. Not miserable compared to those who must take chemo intravenously, but miserable for me. I feel guilty whining, but I am definitely a whiner when it comes to not feeling up to par. I think I did most things wrong during the last chemo round: tired going into it, traveling at the time, eating at too many restaurants, being too active. This time I am trying to wise up, take it slow, not schedule much except computer time, and sleep late. It is going much better.
Thanks as always for all your support, prayers and love.
Next appointment: March 26 (early because we are going out of town), with no MRI.
January 27, 2012
Good News, I think, maybe, hopefully:
Jinny and I met with Dr. Chamberlain last Friday for our regular appointment in a non-MRI month. My blood tests were all normal, as usual, with no indications of weakening of immune system, etc.
We had plenty of time to talk, and so I asked Dr. Chamberlain about my probable survival time, particularly since the January 9 MRI showed that the tumor did not shrink since November after shrinking in every MRI image since May. Particularly I wanted to know if the lack of shrinkage between November and January meant that I had now entered “phase 2,” that is “tumor stability,” after which phase 3 would be tumor growth. And what was his best estimate of lengths of time involved?
Part of what makes the answer to my question difficult is that there are no substantial studies on level 2 oligodendrogliomas. This is because the number of people who have this tumor at level 2 is small, and research rightly is directed at studies which can help a larger group of people. There are, however, studies of level 3 and level 4 oligodendrogliomas. Extrapolating from those studies (mostly done by Dr. Chamberlain himself), his best guess about my situation is this:
- If I surpass the average survival time for this tumor (18 to 24 months for a level 2), then my chance of living a considerable time longer than the average goes way up.
- Because of my remarkable response to chemotherapy, and the fact that tumor shrinkage has happened early (rare) rather than late (typical if there is any shrinkage at all), Dr. Chamberlain is fairly optimistic that I will surpass the average survival time.
- So there is good reason to hope that, accomplishing #2, I will also experience #1, and could live a number of years beyond the average for people with a level 2 oligodendroglioma.
Obviously everything stated above is based on studies not directly pertaining to my illness, and is all about percentages and probabilities. There are no guarantees, and there is over a year to go before I surpass the average survival period for this tumor in early April, 2013.
Still this is the first time I have been able to hear optimism from Dr. Chamberlain. He has been giving a version of optimism much of the time, rejoicing with me that my condition was not deteriorating and calling my response to treatment extraordinary; but that optimism has not, until now, included any indication that I might live beyond the average survival time. And given what we have been praying for, I have not been able to hear those positive comments as optimism. This is also perhaps partly due to my not understanding how much my health could have deteriorated by now. I have the impression that it is common to lose the battle with this tumor by round 6 or 8 of chemotherapy. I begin round 12 in a week, and am going strong.
Our dearly loved oncology nurse told Dr. Chamberlain after our previous appointment, when the tumor didn’t shrink and the medical staff was still very happy with my situation, that I would not be happy without a miracle. She is probably right about that.
But maybe the miracle is happening the Presbyterian way—slowly and under medical care. I don’t want to overlook that; and I don’t want to be ungrateful when I should be full of thanks and praise. When I was first diagnosed, and stumbled upon that Bible story about King Hezekiah being granted 15 additional years after getting a fatal illness, through all my reflections (another section of our blog) about living and dying, and all the different ways I feel about those possibilities, perhaps the 15 years has stuck in the back of my mind, even though I know I cannot insist and should not expect anything different from what others experience.
Now it looks like those 15 years might at least be remotely possible from a medical point of view. I have always known they are possible from God’s point of view. In fact what has disturbed my faith, if anything has, is not that I couldn’t believe it was possible, but rather that I knew it was possible so every medical report fell short of what I hoped for. Thus my brilliant nurse’s comment that I will not be happy without a miracle is right on target.
Here is what I would ask for all those who pray for me and my loved ones. Don’t get your hopes up too much. We are still talking possibilities and percentages. There are no guarantees how this is going to turn out medically. Dr. Chamberlain is right to make no promises, and to be cautiously optimistic at best. But at the same time, be encouraged as we are. And continue in prayer for my complete healing. As we pray that prayer, we are confident that God will do what is right no matter what that is. After we have told God what we want, the best conclusion of our prayers is still and always “Your will be done.”
Next appointment: March 5, with MRI.
January 9, 2012
My January 9 MRI showed that the tumor has not shrunk in the last two months. This could mean that it has stabilized, or according to my neuro-oncologist the tumor could begin shrinking again. You can guess that I am not thrilled with this report. As my nurse (whom Jinny and I dearly love…I think I have mentioned that before—several times) told the doctor, “He won’t be happy except with an outright miracle.” She got that right, as least sort of. I would much prefer that the tumor had shrunk another ten percent between November and January. And I would love to see it shrink to zero over time, or disappear in an instant.
I reminded my doctor that he had said in April that we would do 6 to 8 rounds of chemo and then “See where we are.” This week I am on round 11. I asked him what he meant last April and he said most patients with this tumor have lost the battle by round 8. So I remain remarkable, astonishing in my response to the chemo, fortunate to have a tumor 60% smaller than last May, one of the very fortunate ones. I do not take this for granted, and agree with my doctor who attributes it to a combination of “faith and poison,” meaning the prayers of so many & the chemotherapy. When I pressed him about his view of my longevity, he said what he said in April—18 to 24 months from the diagnosis. Then he added that, with my very positive response to the chemotherapy, I would probably do better than that.
Currently I feel strong, “normal” except for those few days after a round of chemo ends. I do not feel like I have a brain tumor.
I think I will be writing a blog entry soon mulling over “intensity of prayer.” Jinny and I realized after yesterday’s report that we have become a little lackadaisical since things were going so well. We have not prayed as intensely, and we have not looked with our former sharp awareness for the signs of God’s presence moment by moment in our lives. Would you mind if I call those among my readers who pray to resume your original intensity? Thanks everyone for your love and support.
November 14, 2011 – Medical Update
The good news is that my tumor continues to shrink. My doctor did not do as thorough a comparison of the November MRI with past images as he had done in September. He did say that the tumor’s response to the chemotherapy continued to be unusually good, that he does not see such a positive response very often. The one image measurement he did for comparison to September showed an approximate 15% shrinkage so hopefully that measurement is representative of what is happening to the whole tumor. But I cannot say that for sure.
Jinny and I discussed with him again how long I might be on this chemotherapy and what would happen after. He said that as long as the tumor keeps shrinking and my bone marrow is not harmed, we will continue this treatment. (This drug has no negative impact on other vital organs.) If and when the tumor “stabilizes,” we will continue treatment for a month or two to be sure, but the stabilization will probably mean that we have gotten from this chemotherapy all that we can. The stabilized tumor may remain stable for a significant period of time. It’s normal course, however, would be to begin growing again at some point. Most probably, when that happens, harsher chemotherapy would be required. He knows of at least one patient who has been on my chemotherapy drug for 5 years. He does not give any hope that the tumor will be totally defeated by the treatment. It is more a matter of how long I can live before it begins growing again.
I have mixed feelings about this report. I am grateful that my response to the chemotherapy is good, perhaps we could even say astonishingly good. I am grateful that the tumor continues to shrink. I am grateful for my medical team’s knowledge and care. I am grateful for your continued prayers. And I would be extremely happy with receiving the additional 15 years that I hope for after reading the story of God’s interaction with Hezekiah during his fatal illness. At the same time, I find myself starting to let go of the hope/dream/fantasy that one of these times the MRI will come back showing no tumor at all, which I could only attribute to God’s direct intervention. I still have enough childlike (or naïve?) faith to believe that can happen. I don’t want that child’s faith to slip out of my life.
And I want to face adult realities with mature trust. When I was diagnosed, I told the Lord that whatever he wanted is ok with me. That is still true. My life remains in his care. It is safe there, and so am I. Still, I do wish that tumor would go away. You could pray for me that it never stabilize, that it just keep shrinking for another 15 years.
September 20, 2011 – Medical Update
My MRI from yesterday showed that the tumor is still shrinking. It is now about half the size it was in May. So it has shrunk about an additional 20% since July. The small portion of the tumor that was in the right hemisphere of my brain is no longer visible on the MRI. My doctor made the comment that the tumor now seems “well contained.” He is very happy with my response to treatment; and says the tumor is not very happy with the chemotherapy. So things continue to move in the right direction. I feel stronger all the time. Last night I began round seven of chemotherapy—4 pills a night for 5 nights. Thanks for your continued thoughts and prayers. Most people don’t get this good a response to treatment for this kind of tumor. An additional 20% shrinkage by November would be really good news. — Dale
August 25, 2011 – Medical Update
I met with Dr. Chamberlain on Monday. My blood work continues to show everything in normal range, no negative impact of the chemo on my body. Dr. C. now talks about continuing the chemo for 18 to 24 rounds, as they do in Europe. He used to talk about 6 to 8 rounds and then “see where we are.” I think he knows that normally 6 to 8 rounds is about all that is effective and that the tumor finds a way to make the chemo less effective in that time. So talking about 24 rounds is his way of expressing a little optimism, to go along with the words he used regarding my MRI results in August: “remarkable” and “extraordinary.”
Today I am in day 3 of chemo round 6. No side effects to speak of except some “wakefulness” at night. Something about the chemo or the anti-nausea pill I take near bedtime creates this. I can be sleeping soundly on the couch, having dozed off watching something Jinny wants us to watch together, and after my nightly chemo regime I am awake until 2:00 despite Tylenol PM. Makes me wonder whether the tiredness at the end of a chemo week is the results of drugs having a response in my body, or just poor sleep.
I have been continuing to seek healing prayers, and hoping for immediate results involving the disappearance of the tumor. I have had some great experiences with wonderful people and communities of faith. Yet I continue to have weakness in my right ankle and arm, signs that the tumor his not totally gone away. I begin to wonder if God wants me to live with this since I might forget lessons about faith and life if the tumor were totally gone, lessons that I never want to forget but might if the tumor disappeared. So I have changed my prayer from “Make the tumor disappear” to “Keep things moving in a good direction, and never allow a reversal that lets the tumor become debilitating and fatal.”
Next MRI is scheduled for September 19. Hopefully it will show a still shrinking tumor. I will keep you posted. Thanks for your caring and prayers.
July 25, 2011 – Medical Update
I had my latest MRI today. It showed significant shrinkage of the tumor. That shrinkage plus the continuing improved usage of my hand and arm led our doctor to say that I am in the top ten percent of good responses to treatment for this tumor. So I should be able to expect to significantly beat the average survival time for this tumor. The doctor also said that in Europe they are using up to 24 cycles of Temodar (my chemotherapy drug) for this tumor. I begin cycle 5 tonight.
I am feeling healthy and strong, though more easily fatigued than prior to the tumor. Otherwise no noticeable side effects at all. These tumors are normally always fatal at some point in time, after the tumor finds a way of making the chemotherapy ineffective. So those of you who pray, please feel encouraged and please continue to pray for a complete healing.
Thank you God for my medical and pharmaceutical team, and thank you everyone for your prayers and good thoughts.
Next MRI in September.
**July 6, 2011**
We met with my doctor on June 28. Blood counts remain good. Continued recovery of my hand and arm use is a very positive sign. I am typing this report rather than using voice recognition software. I could not have attempted typing 2 weeks ago. New MRI scheduled for July 25. We are hoping for some image evidence of tumor shrinkage. Thanks for everyone’s prayers and good thoughts.
Chemotherapy Round #4 was June 27 to July 1. It was easy. Jinny and I flew to California for a strenuous weekend July 2-4 and I had plenty of energy, unlike the first three days after round #3 when I was tired and wanted to sleep all the time.
My mother called yesterday to tell me that when my uncle Wayne was born with Downs Syndrome in 1923, my grandmother was told that he would live no more than 2 years. He died in his mid-sixties. So Mom figures I have nearly sixty more years to live, which would put me close to 125 years old. Not sure I want to go there but Thanks Mom.
**May 27, 2011**
I had my second MRI today, and then met with my neuro-oncologist. He said that, at the very least, the tumor has been blocked from growing. It may have shrunk a little, but unless it is shrunk by 50% he is unwilling to say any more than that it is not growing at the moment. Because the tumor had probably been growing fairly aggressively, this is good news. The fact that my hand and arm have continued to regain capacity is also “clinical evidence” that the chemotherapy is having a good effect. The risk is in the tumor’s ability, given enough time, to find a way to make the chemotherapy less effect, and to begin growing again. The medical staff was full of smiles about what today’s MRI showed.
Personally I can imagine a better result. I would have preferred that the tumor had already been dramatically reduced. That is not yet true. So be steadfast in prayer. Thank you for your faithfulness.
I begin the next round of chemotherapy pills on Monday, continuing through Friday.
Now I am going out to mow the grass and trimmed bushes. 🙂
**May 18, 2011**
Almost 2 weeks since the end of my last chemotherapy round, I am feeling really strong. I’m doing things with my right hand and arm that I haven’t done for two months. Today I mowed the grass. Two months ago, I had trouble walking short distances from the car to a building. Maybe after my next MRI on May 27, the technician will say “What tumor?” I am grateful for all the prayers, as well as my medical care team. Today Pastor Shinil Park of Grace Community Church in Vancouver, BC drove down to Seattle to pray with me. Pastor Park is a cancer survivor. I am grateful for all such kindnesses, and for how much better I am feeling. Things seem to be moving in a good direction.
**May 9, 2011**
Current status: I finished my second round of chemotherapy pills, taking the last of them on Friday evening.
Physical therapy: Buggy is having trouble getting motivated. By nature he is a slacker. Jinny is on his case, with little success so far. Maybe a chart with stickers will motivate him… that’s about his level. You can view his poor attitude on his video in the “Buggy” section of the blog.
Side effects: The chemotherapy was a little more difficult this time. I think that the first time I was expecting the worst, so the chemo seemed easy. This time I was expecting it to be easy, but it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. My arm and hand lost some of their function, though my leg remained stronger than before. I am hoping that function will return now that the chemo is over. I was generally more tired than I expected to be. There was nothing I would label “nausea,” but my stomach was a little unsettled for the last few days. All in all, for chemotherapy, it was still much easier than most people experience.
What’s coming next: May 27 MRI and doctor’s visit.
Special note: Notice the report on my nurse Candice in the “blessings” section of the blog.
**MAY 3rd, 2011**
Current status: We met with my neuro-oncologist yesterday, after blood draws a week ago and yesterday morning to check blood counts. The report was good all the way around. Blood counts were pretty normal. My right hand and arm are functioning significantly better, which the doctor said probably indicates that the tumor has shrunk some in response to the first round of chemotherapy. Yesterday I began the round two of the chemotherapy pills. The dosage was increased from 300MG to 400MG as planned, and will probably remain at this dosage for the foreseeable future.
Physical therapy: See “Buggy Report.”
Side effects: Side effects continue to be minimal. No nausea. Some tiring more easily, especially in the third week of the treatment cycle. I will watch for the walking wobbliness that I experienced near the end of the first chemotherapy week. The doctor said this is probably not a balance issue, but rather an issue of the chemotherapy exposing the weakness in my right leg.
What’s coming next: Three more days of chemotherapy pills. Blood draws on the 21st and 28th day of the treatment cycle. New MRI on May 27, along with my next doctor’s appointment.
INITIAL BASELINE REPORT:
Dale was diagnosed with level II Oligodendroglioma on March 29, 2011. His brain tumor is inoperable because it is so dispersed in his left frontal lobe. It also spills over a little into the right frontal lobe. Jinny says that the MRI pictures look like a mist, or a flock of sheep that have wandered all over the pasture.
(For more on our sheep analogy, see the blog entry titled “Visualizing Border Collies”)
The treatment plan: Five days of the chemotherapy pill Temodar (three pills each night at bedtime), followed by 23 days without the pills, totaling a 28 day cycle which is then repeated.
Status in April: Dale has completed one round of the chemotherapy pills, and is in the 16th day of 23 without the pills. He had a blood draw today (21st day of each cycle) to measure various blood and bone marrow counts. He sees the doctor next week, and begins the new round of chemotherapy on May 2.
Side effects in April: Side effects have been minimal so far. No nausea. Some experience of tiring more easily, especially in the evening. Some unsteadiness walking late in the week of chemo pills, necessitating the use of a cane for a few days. We don’t know if this wobbliness was a result of the chemo, or of a steroid that Dale is no longer taking.
I am a Friend of Jills- I meet you all one Thanksgiving about 5 or 6 years ago. Jill had taken me under her wing, as she does so many of us rejects. I was going through a sad divorce after 38 years of marriage, it was my first Thanksgiving alone. You were all very kind to me. Please know I am praying for you Dale. God watches out for us. I am sure of that.
With Love, respect and prayers Your friend, Eve
I love hearing Georgia’s laugh on the Utube. Go Buggy!
I’ve been thinking of you each day of this chemo round. Visualizing the heard/team going in 3 at a time to round up those lost sheep! Glad to see the update. Georgia is an Angel! Thanks again so much for this blog, it eases me to know I can check in on you, without bugging you at home. Love you guys!
We attended a healing service at WPC last night with you as the focus of our visit. We trust in God to see His work continue in you and my prayer was “God, save Dale’s life” that phrase I got from Psalm 116.
Thanks for sharing your situation with us. We have fond memories of your work here with our family and we are allblessed.
Rud and Jeannette
I read your news today and was very encouraged for you. I have a good friend here in Cheyenne who is battling brain cancer as well. Hers, however, is tenacious and aggressive and she is in the late stage of life. I keep you in my prayers and think of you and your family daily. Love from Cindy
Dale,
We are happy for the good medical news. Pat and I continue to pray for your complete recovery.
Bill Shafer
Hi there Sewalls! Glad to hear the update. You are in our prayers, all the way from the woods in PA! Peace, Susan and Brook
Dale, I just read your latest medical report. I’d say it’s good – very good. In this case, no change is good news.
Just wanted you to know Betsy and I are thinking of you, and you are in our prayers.
We’ll be praying you through to month 24 and beyond, Dale. Glad to hear you’re feeling well and continuing to respond well to the chemo!
Dale,
Again you’ve dodged the tumor! You sneaky guy, you! Keep it up… and you once siad you couldn’t dance! Well, you’re doing a fine job of it now…