Stand Up To Cancer

This is the fourth installment of Ben's blog. To read the first three parts, click here (part one), here (part two) and here (part three).

I want to start off with good news. We are on pace to have the stem cell transplant around mid-March. Isn't that great? I just had a PET/CT scan done yesterday and the results were fantastic! I do not have to complete my third treatment of ICE ICE BABY! The standard protocol is a minimum of two cycles to put you into remission and a third one for good measure. Some people must do a third and a fourth just to get them into remission; this is not true for me! Apparently my scans show no visible signs of cancer and thus no third round of ICE! Yay! Dr. Forman thinks I am in good shape and can move forward without this last treatment.

Taking a step back, the last six weeks or so have been up and down. The first cycle of ICE was not too bad -- I was out and about after three days of rest. But that second cycle of ICE, oh no. It kicked my ass like Angelina Jolie kicked Brad Pitt's ass in Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I was sweating like Mike Tyson in a spelling bee. I was miserable. I threw up for the first time. I couldn't get out of bed for two days. I lost five pounds and thought the feeling was never going away. It took about nine days for me to feel up to par again and to start doing things on my own. The highlight of the week was a tuna melt I was able to keep down. The scariest part of this was that I was actually living and having to look at some version of myself in the mirror that I didn't even recognize. I truly didn't look like me. I did not like that! For the record, chemo sucks. Period.

Next I had a minor surgery to have a Hickman catheter inserted in my chest. At the same time, they tested my bone marrow one more time, but not for Hodgkin's; this time they were looking for any chromosomal defects, like the ones that cause leukemia. Apparently all this chemotherapy may kill the Hodgkin's cells, but one of the side effects has been leukemia. It is highly unlikely any abnormalities will be found. However, if they were, I would be looking for a donor transplant versus donating to myself. But again, this happens in very few cases.

After the insertion of the catheter, I was given a drug for several hours called cytoxin. The only reason I got this drug, as it has been explained to me, is to prepare my stem cells for harvest. We have to "trick" them a bit using a drug they think they have to fight or get "pushed" by, thus producing more stem cells. I also got daily shots of 750mg of Nupengen (a big blood-building drug) for 10 days.

The date of my stem cell harvest was Monday, March 8th. We are hoping to go into the hospital March 15th for the stem cell transplant itself (when I'll go into a 25-day bubble). This all depends on whether there is a bed available. I really want to get started so I thought I'd pull the cancer card, but I don't think it will work at City of Hope. Ha ha. However, as it turns out, Dr. Forman's head physician assistant's daughter goes to UC Irvine with me, and she knows who I am? I think I have met her at a party or two. Also, I grew up with this woman's niece and nephew from camp! So maybe I do have a few connections after all. Dr. Forman is calling me the Ferris Bueller of City of Hope. Now where is my Ferrari?

I wanted to make a top ten list of ways you know you have cancer, but I could only think of one.

1. The highlight of your day is eating.

I encourage visitors after my stem cell transplant, because I will be bored. Come entertain me. Hospital said no strippers allowed. Be creative.

As hairless as a pre-pubescent teenager with braces trying to get the hottest girl in school to recognize him,
Ben

To learn more, visit Ben's website: cuck-fancer.com.