I'm doing. . . pretty good?!

About a month ago I completed my first treatment of Azedra - the nuclear medicine treatment. The first few weeks were really challenging for me because I was so radioactive that it was unsafe for others to be near me for even short periods of time and I had to isolate in our bedroom. 

I found out during that time that I need hugs to hold myself together mentally. Not like "oh, this is nice" but they reassure me that I'm ok both physically and socially. I chose not to hug my wife because I was so radioactive - the last thing I wanted to do is make her sick. But my choice of not hugging my wife until my radioactivity dropped to a safer level made me feel lonely and isolated. It was only when my radioactivity dropped and I was able to get more hugs from Bessie that I felt like my Azedra treatment was complete.

As I met my hug quota and was appreciating the other rooms in our house, I noticed something -

I felt pretty good!

To be clear, feeling "pretty good" with my cancer is a relative thing. I take two good sized fistful of pills every day and my right arm fires bolts of pain if I try to move it in a way it doesn't like. I require a toddler's amount of naps. If my meds are delayed for a few hours things start going sideways quick. When we introduced a minor medication change last week to try to lower my heartrate below 110, I vomited the contents of my stomach for two days straight.

All that said, I almost feel like I'm taking some illegal "feel good" drugs right now. I have more energy than I've had since before cancer. My appetite is back to the point where I will likely start gaining weight. My breakthrough meds (pain pills you take when your daily allotted pain medication is not enough) have sat largely untouched. I'm feeling well enough I should be taking on more responsibility around the house but I've laid low for a bit just reveling in this "feeling better" thing.

It seems obvious to give Azedra credit for this turn of events, though there have been no measurements to determine the efficacy of the treatment. I could just have hit a balance of meds and lifestyle that just magically works, but it's most likely Azedra. I think that the designers of the treatment dreamed of an ideal body for their method to work on, it may likely be mine. My tumors seem to hoard radiation like kids hoard candy on Halloween. It's been about 5 weeks since my Azedra treatment and my radiation level should be normal again, but it's still quite high. In most people the radiation is urinated away, but I assume my tumors have taken it and they're not giving it back. (I will slowly get less radioactive, just not as quickly as other patients.)

I am delighted with how I'm feeling, but I have to remind myself that this does not change where all of this is heading. Right now as I'm writing this, I feel great and cancer is just a word not something that is still in me, awaiting it's time when my body can't take any more radiation. I've noticed that when I feel bad, I think about my mortality and what I'm doing and what my life means and all that. When I'm feeling well, I think I'll live forever.

My feeling like I'll live forever is a testament to either the resilience of humans or my incredible goldfish-like memory. I have felt incredible pain. I have suffered. I have thought about and talked about my passing and what I want for my funeral and burial. As I feel great right now, I should be loving and appreciating life more than ever because the evidence of the seriousness of my situation is pervasive. But I'm not. I feel almost entitled to feeling like this and that it will go on forever.

I hope that when things get tough again that I will remember and appreciate these times and that I did not waste them.