July 26, 2011 The Miracle of Medicine

Battling cancer can be an interesting journey. You think you have it all figured out and you get thrown into a new phase and you have to figure it out all over again. I guess you can say that I have had three phases so far: 1) first rounds of chemo after cancer detection, 2) transplant and 3) post transplant recovery and aftermath.

Phase one was scary because I didn’t know if I was going to live or die. If you haven’t gone through this before, it is very easy to think the worst because you really don’t know enough. I somehow got through that phase and then it was on to the transplant. Unlike the first stage, I felt very confident that the transplant was going to work.

I knew it wouldn’t be a day at the beach, but I felt pretty good about my survival chances. I wasn’t 100% sure that I would walk out of the hospital so we had family pictures taken so the boys would remember their dear ole dad. Although I thought they were decent photos, they don’t see the light of day in the Churan household because I guess I was the only one that liked them. Luckily, I did make it out of the hospital so we can have another set done sometime.

Phase three, the post transplant stage, was not without its time of worry. After only 5 months, my numbers started spiking and I thought all was lost. That settled down and for two years, I lived a life of someone without cancer save the monthly blood letting at the Mayo. Other than my now ever present high blood pressure medications, I was just like everybody else.

I have now entered phase four, the stage where everyone realizes that the transplant has run its course and it is time for another intervention. When I first came to the realization that my body just couldn’t handle the cancer on its own, I was disappointed. The next two months were tough as I hoped for a miracle that just wasn’t going to come. There was no doubt; I needed to go back on chemo.

It wasn’t the fact that I was going to start up chemo again, it was the fact that it is likely that I will never get off of it, more than anything else. Aside from the transplant, there is nothing that can be done to make you chemo free. It took me another two months to get over that setback, but now I am fully ready to start that next leg of the journey.

This morning, I took my first dose of Revlimid. It is a perfectly innocent capsule that doesn’t look a whole lot different than any other over the counter capsule. It isn’t until you read the fine print that you realize that this isn’t your mother’s multiple vitamin.

Before I was even allowed to get a prescription for Revlimid I have to sign my life away. On four separate forms I had to state that I would not have unprotected sex with a woman of child bearing age. Of course, those were easy to sign as Julia looked over my shoulder. But it went even further than that. The fact that I had a vasectomy wasn’t good enough; I had to agree to have a second protection in place. Needless to say, they don’t want you fathering any children while using Revlimid.

The same holds true for women taking Revlimid. There is enough proof in laboratory animals that there is a good chance that any offspring could have some severe birth defects. In fact, I am the only one in the house that is allowed to handle the stuff. As you can imagine, swallowing that first capsule made me twitch a bit. So much for my life as a sperm donor (Can’t do that either, not that I ever would have. Who would have picked me anyway?)

Of course, it is going to keep me alive for a bit, so I’m not complaining. As a matter of cost, if it wasn’t for my insurance company I would be twitching all over. I don’t know the actual cost to the insurance company, but I have heard costs ranging anywhere from $5,000 to $10,000 per month. At this point, I don’t care what it costs (I can say that because I am only responsible for a $20 copay per month) because Dr.Mikhael believes I might be able to get another three years out of this drug. If you would have told me 2 ½ years ago that I would be worrying about what I would be taking in five years, I would have kissed you. Every minute matters now, another three years are a lifetime.

July 22, 2011 -- Mr. Tanner

It was a couple weeks ago when we were making our way back from our mini vacation in Las Vegas that I took the opportunity to listen to some songs on my IPod that I hadn’t enjoyed in a while. Not sure what it was, but I decided to listen to Harry Chapin’s Greatest Hits. If you are not familiar with Chapin’s work, he was a master story teller. It was more than the music, it was more about the words and his words were captivating.

You might be familiar with his hits, “Taxi”, “Cats in the Cradle” or “WOLD”, but the one that really grabbed me as it always does was the song, “Mr. Tanner.” Mr. Tanner owned a dry cleaning shop in Dayton, Ohio (coincidentally my home town.) As he would clean clothes he would sing to himself in a beautiful baritone voice and his customers couldn’t help but hear and appreciate the melodic tone.

Customer after customer would tell him that he should give up the shop and become a professional singer. Although reluctant, “music was his life” and finally gave it a shot. He arranged a concert in New Your City. It took all of his savings, but it would be worth it.

When the evening came, he gave it his best but only noticed his mistakes. Sadly, the critics only heard the flaws also. “Mr. Martin Tanner, Baritone, of Dayton, Ohio made his Town Hall debut last night. He came well prepared, but unfortunately, his presentation was not up to contemporary professional standards. His voice lacks the range of tonal color necessary to make it consistently interesting. Full time consideration of another endeavor might be in order.”

Mr. Tanner returned to Dayton and never let on what had happened in New York. He became just a shell of himself, never singing loud enough for anyone to hear. He had become a defeated, destroyed man. You have to wonder how often each of us face this same type of defeat and how we all handle it. Life is a series of defeats and victories, but too many of us allow the defeats to overwhelm us and not give equal justice to the victories.

Early in life, I would allow a defeat of my favorite sports team to ruin a weekend. I have since gotten past that. In my own life, I have had so many defeats that if I dwelled on those, I would have to hide in a cave all day. I think we all have to face the reality that we are not perfect and will, indeed, make mistakes and have failures but that is not what should define us. It should be what we do with the rest of our lives.

Harry Chapin died nearly 30 years ago when his car was crushed by a tractor-trailer. He had made a decision early in life that he would dedicate himself to more than the simple, easy things. Although music was his livelihood, it was not his passion. He did everything he could while he was alive to wipe out world hunger. It was something he knew he could never do alone, but he made it his driving force. He cared about others to the point that he angered his own band because he would donate as much as 50% of their income to fight hunger. The article below gives you an idea of just what lengths he would go to.

http://www.victoriaadvocate.com/news/2011/jul/14/bc-us-remembering-harry-chapin/?news&national-entertainment

Take a look at you own life and evaluate if you are doing enough with it. Don’t give something up because you failed at it once. Find something that invigorates you. Find something that makes you love life. Find something that makes others love life. In the end, get off the couch.


On the medical front, I will begin my next round of chemotherapy next week. It looks like the clinical will not work out, but I will be following the same protocol, with a high level of predicted success. Because it will be delivered through pills instead of IV, this will go a lot easier than my previous experiences. With luck, Revlimid will give me another 2 or 3 years of good health. During that time, you never know what else might become available.

Thanks for all of your thoughts and prayers. Keep them coming, they are appreciated.