Wolf month

 Last week at this time, I noticed some sniffles. I took a home test and discovered I was positive for COVID. It never amounted to anything more than some mild congestion and a dry cough, and one week later, I'm without symptoms. So that part is good. 

Last Thursday, I received the results from my latest CT scan, and this part was not good. Tumor growth. A determination by the trial doctor that the one resulting drug I was taking was not effective, and so, this was the end of the trial for me. 

It's hard to describe the disappointment, anger, frustration, sadness, but it was all there, even though it's not my first time getting bad scan news. I'd tried to keep my expectations for this trial reasonable, but when fighting for one's life, that is probably not possible. It's not that the drug combo didn't work to hold back the cancer. It's that the drugs that held back the cancer gave me potentially life-threatening colitis. 

Am I the only one this happened to? I am sure I'm not. The mind goes in all the directions: it could easily have been fine for my body. It could easily have just been a one-and-done mild case of colitis, and then they could have slowly re-introduced the offending drug into my body. None of us would have been surprised by any of those results. And yet, it went another way. 

So what is next? I'm still trying to find out. Due to the COVID, I still need to wait another week to take a PCR test at the cancer center. I'll need 2 of those in order to get treatment (I'll be returning to my suburban branch of the Boston hospital, where I used to get chemo). If I test negative on the 24th, they'll immediately do another test, so that I can be ready to get whatever I'm going to get. Will probably talk with my regular oncologist that week about options. 

There are many interesting trials going on, some involving small molecule inhibitors and even CAR T cell therapy (thanks, Kim!).  Not sure what I qualify for now and what I could get into, and if my doc even recommends jumping to another trial right away. But most options will involve more chemotherapy, I think (either alone in or combo with another drug) -- the kind that makes you lose your hair. 

I don't actually have a huge thing with being bald, and am considering one of those cool henna tattoos for the future, depending on how bold I feel. But you know, it's more chemo. And last year before the immunotherapy trial, when we were discussing the option of more chemo, the doc explained to me that at this point, the chemo is less likely to be effective against my cancer. Not sure if that'll still be true almost a year later.

So yeah, not the brightest week in my household. I spent a day wallowing (and I mean seriously), and then the next started trying to think, well, I don't like this situation, but I can't change this situation, so what will I do to cope with this situation? Trying to step back as much as possible and gear up for whatever's next. 

There are many, many dark rabbit holes calling my name right now. I am trying not to go near any of them. British crime dramas are helping some, honestly. And jigsaw puzzles. And writing. I am not as hopeful as I was even just a few months ago. But I'm not depleted, either. There are still options. I am still here, still open.