The elephant in the room.
May 17, 2015
et me just address the elephant in the room. The result of my scan was not good. My current clinical trial, from the looks of it, is not working according to my doctor. He called as we were on our way home from the hospital. The results came fast since I was the first patient scheduled for CT scan that Friday morning, so the radiologist got to it right away.
“Hi,Mr. Alvarez, Dr. S. here” said the familiar voice. Dr. S and I are getting to know each other well. He normally talks fast and is always smiling, but inspite of the friendly greeting his tone this time betrays him.
I stopped the car, parked, and put my cellphone on speaker so my wife could hear.
“The scan results showed some growth in your lung nodules…” I stopped listening and just looked ahead. It was not the news I wanted to hear. Another bad news given. I thought I was ready for this but no matter how many times I get them, it still gets to me: Shock and disappointment.
My thoughts came back because there will be changes again, that is if I want to. It always boils down to what I want. The funny thing is you think you are in control but in reality you are not. I want no more chemo but I still have to go for treatment (only if I want to). Duh?
Dr. S gave me more details and told me about my options. Options? What options? It is more like pre-destined—and forced—options because they were not what I want. Do they have something more pleasing like a Chinese buffet menu? I digress, but today’s menu is:
- stay on for more treatment with the current clinical trial to see if I respond or
- move to another clinical trial.
You like, no like? (In Chinese tone).
But this is serious real-life (and death) decision. This is not even worthy of a FB post needing like/unlike response because there is nothing to like in the choices in front of me. This is serious sh*t.
So now I am back to square one again. Stay on and hope I respond, or move on and hope the next one works. Two options both based on hope which, of late, is a very precious commodity. Hope is the one element that has been fueling me all these years and lately I am running on fumes. It is a wish, a thought, or a plead for something better. Is that too much to ask?
Perhaps I should just ask for something simpler or maybe not ask at all. Just do the gerbil run-to-no-where and enjoy the ride.
P.S. On Wednesday I meet with my doctor to discuss other clinical trials and decide.