A Dose of Reality

I’m participating in a double-blind, Stage III study of a lung cancer vaccine. Every six weeks I drive just over 2 hours from Punta Gorda to New Port Richey to receive my injections. (Because it’s a blind study, I don’t know if I am getting the experimental drug or sugar water.) On my visit this past Monday I saw my study doctor, who exclaimed, “This drug must be working!” I said to the physician, “How can you know that? This is a double blind study. Neither you nor I know if I am getting the real deal or a placebo.”

The study doctor admitted that he doesn’t know for sure. But, he explained, it’s highly unusual for someone to do as well as I appear to be doing, given my diagnosis. He naturally concluded that it must be the trial drug.

Then I asked him: “In your 30 year career as an oncologist, how many inoperable Stage IIIA lung cancer patients have you seen survive 5 years or more?” His answer was depressing. “Only one…and that woman survived just over five years after undergoing chemo nearly the entire time.”

The conversation was a real downer for me. I should be encouraged by the fact I am doing so well relative to most lung cancer patients. But his comment about late stage lung cancer’s low survival rate shocked me back into the reality of my diagnosis. Despite my healthy appearance, I face a low probability of being a long term survivor. The drug I am taking has been shown in previous trials to help extend life for one to three years, but it is not a cure. Eventually, the cancer returns. That reality hit me this week like a ton of bricks.

Until Monday I was thinking of myself as “cured”. In fact, a few weeks ago I ordered a vanity license plate for my car that reads “I m Cured”. Now I hope I haven’t jinxed myself! My next CT/PET scan is in a few weeks. We’ll see what the results bring.

This past December I elected to have my infusion port removed. It was an act of faith that I will not need more chemotherapy in the foreseeable future. It gave me a psychological lift to have that lump of metal out of my chest. I felt restored to my former self and more optimistic about the future.

The only other reminders that I have lung cancer have been my cloudy eyesight and the neuropathy in my feet and hands. I had my eyes checked a year ago and was shocked to learn that I have developed cataracts in both eyes. I did not know it at the time I was having treatments, but apparently the steroids used in chemotherapy can cause cataracts.

I noticed that my eyesight has gotten worse. I can hit a golf ball but I can’t see it land. It’s hard for me to read the computer screen at work and at night the glare of on-coming headlights has made it harder to see the road.

My vision has deteriorated to the point where I decided I need to do something about it. After consulting with my colleague from the community clinic, Dr. David Klein, I decided to go ahead with cataract surgery and take care of this problem now rather than wait. Were I to have a recurrence of cancer that requires chemotherapy, corrective eye surgery would most definitely be off the table.

On Thursday I went into the hospital to have the cataract in my right eye removed and an artificial lens implanted. I stayed home Friday to recover. That’s three out of five days of work missed this week for health related issues. Worst of all, golf is out of the question this weekend.

I guess I should be grateful I’m doing so well!