I’m grateful to my neighbors who, after learning about my diagnosis a few months back, have coordinated on sharing home-cooked meals with our family. At this point, six different households on our street have given us meals. That is really cool actually, just to reflect on this generosity and kindness.

Tonight, as I ventured out on a walk with the dog, I ran into the neighbor who orchestrated all the meal-sharing, and I heartily thanked her. I felt self-conscious about being out and about, acting so healthy and … non-cancer-y. (Like, wait, was my “serious illness” just a ruse, to get a bunch of free food?) I explained that my chemo infusions have been on a bit of an unplanned pause … that my next infusion will be this Thursday, and after that I’ll be properly incapacitated for several days. (Seriously, I have cancer .. I swear!)

I am eager to get back on track with the treatment plan. I’m all done with whatever was bothering me last week. My appetite has returned with much intensity; I’m happy to see my weight going back up again, day by day.

I have a unique combination of a philosophy undergrad degree, coupled with an MBA. After earning the MBA from University of Washington, I spent several years in various marketing roles. Given my background, it’s perhaps no surprise that this article, published today, deeply resonated with me: Creative directing my cancer.

The author, Nathan Phillips, explores how a cancer diagnosis can open one up to deep insights, which I agree with:

Cancer connects us to our values, to what’s important and ultimately can shift our perspective so we appreciate living. Without cancer, it’s easy to forget. Cancer doesn’t just kill you, it makes you live. It increases your life experience by reducing your life expectancy. 

One key difference between this author’s situation and my own is that he received a “death timeline” of one year (maximum!) which he has now exceeded. To be clear, I received no such timeline; in my own kickoff discussion with my cancer care team, back on May 2, the message was upbeat: this is Stage 3 and it’s treatable.

A phrase that you hear a lot from people, when you let them know you have cancer, is: “please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help!” Which totally makes sense. It’s hard news to process, and it’s hard to know what else to say.

An interesting twist, for me, is that I myself really find meaning in helping people. Various personality tests have revealed this for me, such as the Enneagram (in that test, I’m “type 2: the helper.”) This means, for me, it’s a bit of a paradox. You can help me — if I feel that I am helping you! This is part of the reason why I’m maintaining this blog: I’d like to offer my own journey with cancer as something that can hopefully help anybody else who gets a cancer diagnosis.

But I’d also like to help people avoid getting cancer, if at all possible. So, honestly the best way you can help me, is to please be inspired by my experience to do something (big or small … something!) to minimize your cancer risk. I’ve been absolutely delighted to hear about some folks who decided to get colonoscopies, after hearing about my situation. Also, I’d love it if you can help share my story (this blog, and my colon cancer walk page) with others.

Early on in my radiation treatments, back in May, I got stuck in a Fred Hutch parking garage due to a mechanical issue with the garage. There were all these cancer patients and their caregivers, stuck for many hours while the issue got fixed. I was fuming with rage about this, and I struck up a conversation with the woman next to me.

On April 2, 2024, I got a call I had been anxiously awaiting. A few days previous, I had a colonoscopy that revealed a large growth in my rectum: much larger than the polyps that can be removed during the procedure. The doctor had sent a tissue sample in for biopsy, and I knew she’d be calling at some point on April 2.

And I got the call, in the mid-morning. I was in the middle of a meeting at the time, but I stepped away to take the call. The doctor explained that the biopsy revealed that the growth is carcinogenic: in other words, I have cancer. She said the next step — happening that very afternoon — was for me to go get a CT scan, to determine whether the cancer had metastasized.

After the call ended, I had this very interesting experience. I felt like I was floating, up somehow, and observing my life. I considered the meeting I had just been in, with puzzlement — people had all been talking very fast, and using so many acronyms. So much focus on these very granular details that don’t ultimately have life-or-death significance (a day in the life of a typical technology firm). None of this seemed to matter, compared with the news I had just received. I thought about how I’m usually one of those people quickly spouting out acronyms in these meetings. Indeed, I can be, admittedly, a total firebrand at work — I dig in and debate! About .. acronyms.

I started noticing hair coming out on Sunday. Yesterday, I noticed more coming out; I’d run my hand through my hair and there would be a few strands on my fingers. Then I was noticing the hair strands other places. I checked my pillow: yikes. Lot of hair on there. I then decided: need to shave my head sooner, rather than later.

So, shaved it off last night.

Don’t think I mentioned before, folks in our neighborhood have been very kind. Word has spread around about my diagnosis, and neighbors have been dropping off meals for us. They even know about my crazy vegan diet (with occasional eggs). We received a delicious meat-free shepherd’s pie, among other fine meals.

Off week going ok thus far. I really do not like giving myself the nightly shots, and I’m wondering if I have to keep doing that for the remaining eight cycles. I’m also wondering, with trepidation, if the cycles are going to get worse from here…

Some folks have been reaching to me with concern after my last post. I’m ok! Slept very well last night, and I’m at work this week. Looking forward to this, an off week — a blessed break before infusion #3, which will be happening Mon the 19th.

I was able to connect with a nurse at Fred Hutch earlier today and talked through all of the “weirdness” I struggled with last week. That was an incredibly helpful call. First, just in validating that I’m not alone in this struggle to even articulate what the heck is going on. the nurse confirmed for me, this is a normal struggle for chemo patients. Also, she provided some tips on what I should actually be worried about. Because that’s always my question, with any new symptom or sensation – do I dismiss this, or look into it further? The numb lips, she said, is normal with oxaliplatin. With the port, yeah, I’m going to feel it; it’s ok (the main thing with a port is to look at the skin area for signs of infection — there are none). And she gave some other practical advice as well, for which I’m very grateful.

Also, I think hair loss has started for me .. just a bit. Yesterday I put product on my hair (just to get it out of my eyes) and then I noticed that there was a lot of hair stuck to my hands .. the product is sticky, but that’s never happened to me before. This morning, I’m noticing more of my hairs .. on my phone, in random places. I’m assuming this is the beginning of chemo hair loss, so I’ll probably shave my head at some point this week. This isn’t really concerning for me; I’ve shaved my head many times in the past. Just something I’m noticing.

Thank you, all, for your concern and support! 🙂

…you see an ad like this, read it in full, nod your head, and say: “yes, this looks good!”

Quick note here to say the last several days have been great. This last week was my off week (no infusion). It’s an on-again / off-again schedule. I was pleased to see that I felt basically all back to normal around Wednesday last week — that was one week after pump disconnect day. Energy level, appetite all back to normal. It is very nice to get a break!

It was great to see my sister Katy over the weekend. Katy introduced me to a product category I had never heard of before: hop water. This is just sparkling water, flavored with hops of various kinds. It seems many major beer brands have jumped on this bandwagon. I do find it most refreshing — thanks Katy for the tip!

In other news, we have been binge-watching Stranger Things (Katy and Daniel joined us for an episode!). Such an exciting show necessitates lots of popcorn. Our dog Sunny has a total obsession with popcorn. As can be seen here; he’s looking at the microwave with maniacal anticipation, as the popcorn pops away…

My next chemo infusion is tomorrow, and I’m sure I’ll be back to the world of fatigue at that point.

I’m copying a summary I just shared in an online forum (Colontown – highly recommend this to all colorectal cancer patients!):

– I got very little sleep last night (like maybe one hour) due to the steroids. 

– I was surprised to find I wasn’t tired this morning (perhaps I was still artificially “energized” by the steroids). 

– I’ve had no diarrhea, which is surprising, given the irinotecan (aka “I run to the can”) that I received yesterday. Instead, I’ve been more on the constipation side.

– didn’t really have any notable nausea today, but I did notice a decrease in appetite.

– I’ve had some intermittent difficulty swallowing. 

-No other noticeable signs of neuropathy. 

Around 7pm this evening:

– Felt tired and dizzy after walking my dog. 

– felt brain fog / confusion, and fatigue. Tried running  quick errand to the grocery store, and that was overwhelming. 

Hoping to get more sleep tonight. 🤞 Not sure if I will take tomorrow off from work as well. That feels overwhelming to think about right now.