RE-MISSION IMPOSSIBLE? OR POSSIBLE

All had been quiet on the blog front because I have just been soldiering on through my 6 cycles of Avastin and Abraxane. My final treatment for this series, which began in April, is September 25th. I was prepared to have a PET scan (the 1st one since February when I had 13 new active cancer spots on my skeleton) after the 25th and then consult with Dr. K. He was not satisfied with this situation because if the outcome was that I was to remain on the Avastin and Abraxane we would get off of our established schedule. Cancer buggers can do a lot while the proverbial "mice" of chemotherapy are away. So, I had a PET scan this last Wednesday and consulted with Dr. K. yesterday on Friday.

I had prepared myself for the worst. These scans really do a number on me. I get a bad case of "scanxiety" and continually imagine that I am going to hear, "It didn't work at all and we are going to have to move onto Door #3 and you are going to have to have a harsher drug and it is going to suck more than you can imagine and blah, blah, blah." I suppose that this is a coping mechanism, of sorts, because when you are a mets girl to even allow yourself to think that something is going to go right is just not something that we do. We prepare for the worst and hope for something on the scale just above the worst and this is progress. It really is absurd because we all want to live in a place of hopefulness, a place where our condition will somehow change from a death sentence to life without parole.

Well I guess the Governor of Cancer called up on the bat-phone and in a way commuted my sentence for the time being. Over the past 6 months I have heard Dr. K use the "R" word (remission) twice. I NEVER thought that remission was a possibility for me. I thought that even if the outcome of any treatment was good that there would still be metastatic disease on my skeleton and even thought it wasn't active it would always be there. The internal evidence of my scarlet letter "C."

On Friday, I hadn't looked at my results and so Dr. K was the first one to read them to me. I literally felt like I was in the middle of a miracle moment as he shared my results with me. I had to make sure that he was reading MY results not someone elses. The PET scan sealed the deal. Because my CA 27-29 has gone from 150 to 70, my pain is all but disappeared with the exception of my low back which has all those collapsed vertebraes and fractures, I have been feeling better than ever since I have been diagnosed and according to some (not me) I look better than I have looked (even without any hair) since my diagnosis in July 2007 we were hopeful that the PET would reveal progress. I didn't imagine it would reveal a small miracle.

Originally I had 6 tumors in my left breast and axilla. Many of them were big like baseball and golf ball size. Two had disappeared awhile ago, two were gone from this scan. I mean totally gone. The last two (baseball and golf ball) are down to 1cm by 1cm, they are petering out. The two last buggers are there but they are not doing well. They aren't thriving, they are dying. Good riddance. As far as my skeletal mets, which were EVERYWHERE in my body. THEY ARE GONE!!!!! There is no evidence of any disease with the exception of a small spot on my right 4th rib and possibly a spot on my pelvis, but that is probably a post-radiation spot not a cancer spot.

To me this is just unbelievable. This chemotherapy/biotherapy/bone builder regime has worked and it has worked well. All the fatigue from the therapies and the pain from the marrow builders and the Thursday-Friday-Saturday trips to the cancer institute have been worth it and worth it in a way that is amazing.

I'll give you a little quote from the report:
"There is remarkable interval decreased or complete resolution of abnormal activity see in the entire skeleton now." and "There is almost complete metabolic response of the osseous skeletal lesions."

The plan is this. I will have 6 more treatments of the Abraxane and Avastin which will run me up to December 18th. I will be sending out an email blast for chemo buddies and Neulasta shot ride friends on Saturday. Dr. K believes that with the 6 more treatments that I could go into complete remission. Now, me being the metastatic pessimist I am not going to hold my breath BUT I will be visualizing the death of the final 3-4 spots that are left.

Thank you all for the rides, sitting with me, playing with the girls, the meals, the support, sitting with me through the interminable chemo sessions. Thank you for the well-wishes, the prayers, the cards and the emails. Thank you for being a part of getting us this far. We couldn't have done it without your help.

Most of all I have to thank my family without you three I wouldn't be able to make it through the treatments, and the tests and the shots. Matt, Anya and Mila this victory is yours. You have sacrificed so much to get me here. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.