oops, a little blood leak...

The last week or so has been pretty interesting...in the sense of seeing new phenomena in my body that I'd rather not see.

I started losing some blood through my urine...not painful, but I'm really not used to seeing something the color of Hawaiian Punch in that neck of the woods!  At the same time, I started becoming noticeably weaker -- by mid-afternoon every day, I really needed a nap.

Blood tests showed that my red blood cell count was dangerously low (10.2) -- I was suffering from anemia.  The doctors originally thought it was due to a urinary tract infection, and gave me a round of antibiotics to combat it.  This did nothing.  I came up with a more likely cause when I noticed a bruise developing at the bottom of my ribs. My hypothesis (admittedly nothing more than the opinion of a *very* interested layperson) is that the metastases growing on my ribs were causing some internal bleeding, which was being siphoned off by my kidneys into my urine.

I got a blood transfusion last week at Alta Bates, which helped my strength somewhat. And fortunately, the (external) bleeding has completely stopped.  I never was in any pain -- but it was a definite (and STRONG) reminder that I need to get myself into a powerful treatment program ASAP!

reality check with Dr. Swift

(black dots are tumors; click picture to enlarge)

I had a bracing talk this morning with Dr. Swift, my radiation oncologist (I'm not getting any radiation, but he's the resident prostate cancer expert at Alta Bates).

When I got a copy of the film at the bone scan last Tuesday, I knew it was bad...but I could only stand looking at it for a little while and I filed it away. My coping mechanism was to immediately dive into researching what my next treatment would be (a process I actually enjoy -- it gives me hope, a sense that possibilities actually do exist out there, and it's something over which I exercise partial control).

Talking to Dr. Swift today reminded me in stark terms exactly what I'm facing. The worst metastases are in the pelvis, which have developed dramatically since my last scan six months ago. I also have many, many new metastases -- mostly on vertebrae, but also a few on my ribs and scapula.

So where do things go from here if the cancer keeps progressing? The bones where the metastases are will become weaker and weaker, and eventually break. A break in my pelvis means pain, six months of being bedridden, and a big, big hit to my mental state. A break in one of my vertebrae might mean partial or complete paralysis.

Needless to say, this is a HUGE motivator for me to find a more effective treatment than what I've been on. It's also a giant challenge not to think about dreadful possibilities all the time. This is the strongest challenge to my cheerfulness and equilibrium that I think I have ever encountered. Fortunately I'm still upbeat most days -- going to the ashram for chanting or meditation really helps, and Liz is being a peach!