Spent the last week dipping into despair, stressed about, you know, everything, but including which part of the drug trial study I’d get into. The untested combo of immunotherapy plus the “not terribly successful but has been our go-to for years” pill, or just the pill. Just the pill is the Plan B “standard of care” next option when I didn’t have a robust response to Plan A, immunotherapy + targeted therapy. Plan A was heralded by my Mayo oncologist as the path to durable response, and continuing to live life fully, yet unencumbered by cancer. In comparison, Plan B sounded more like “hopefully we can keep you alive for 14 rather than only 12 months.”
When Plan A failed, panic set in. Plan B doesn’t sound great. Note I continue to feel 100% fine, so rationally, it’s hard to see going from this to dead in 14 months, failing an attack of Terminal Hit By Bus.
Wouldn’t it be great if rational thought prevailed?
I kept myself from wishing too much that I’d get into the study, which basically combines some of Plan A with Plan B, a combo that is untested and possibly the cure. Manifesting my destiny is such a mind fuck. On the one hand, I need to think positive thoughts to make positive things happen, but on the other, if I think too positively, I’ll jinx it and it won’t happen. I realize how little I want all of this fabricated responsibility.
My restrained wishing while preparing for disappointment turned out to be the right balance: yesterday I found out that the randomizer selected me to be in the study. I have been given hope.
An aside on the randomizer: we enjoyed watching The Floor, the new game show hosted by Rob Lowe that makes heavy use of “the randomizer” to pick contestants on the show. The basic premise is that two contestants face off in a contest to see who identifies the most pictures correctly. In the bird category, I’m still mad about what the show claimed was a robin. It wasn’t a robin, like not even close to being a robin. Yes, it had some red on the breast, but was definitively not a robin. Irrationally, I blame Rob Lowe for this. Fucking idiot.
I had a session with a healer on Friday. A friend recommended this person. I confirmed with Bob; this friend is not a known wing nut. That’s the first hurdle: how crazy is the friend making the suggestion? I had a brief introductory call with the healer (though I don’t think he calls himself that, and he made it clear he doesn’t walk on a leash). He told me a bit about the premise, and how sessions work.
I excitedly passed this information on to Bob, who is generally NOT wired to believe in weird shit. “This is quantum mechanics. You believe in quantum mechanics!” I reminded Bob. It’s basically energy work, working the theorem that energy can be manipulated remotely through certain techniques, and can stop the spread or even cure cancer. It’s had success, I told Bob. In a study, this practitioner partnered with two other practitioners in other parts of the country, and the three of them cured some cancerous mice.
Bob spit out his coffee. Apologized, and tried to cover by saying “Cancerous Mice is a good name for a band.”
“At least this seems more plausible than Jesus.” I responded.
I’ve never been religious. From a surprisingly young age, I just wasn’t buying it. From the improbably white hippie wizard leader to people using the “teachings” of Christianity to act like true assholes, nothing about it makes sense. On the other hand, I’ve thought a lot about the generic concept of prayer and the benefits of people directing good thoughts and energy toward something, and I believe that it helps in some way, if only to dedicate a few moments thinking about someone other than yourself.
After my session on Friday, I can honestly say I am feeling better about my prognosis than I ever have. I have absolutely no idea if it’s “real” or if it will “work.” But I definitely know that red-lining stress and terror is not helpful or fun, so I’m for anything that makes that go away. The session was pleasant, calming, and not that weird. Ultimately, we just don’t know. All of the treatment options available to me have elements requiring some leap of faith: Western medicine. Chinese medicine. Energy work. I’m fine not knowing which of these ultimately cures me.