It's Short

Typically, I avoid writing about personal matters (and when I do, I usually end up deleting the post), but I'm 'bout drowning here.

My beloved husband, after being cancer free for four and a half years, had a resurgence of the disease in the autumn. It metastasized into a vertebra. He underwent a course of radiation and all seemed well. One month after his treatment ended, his weight dropped drastically, he began acting fatigued like I've never seen before, he started slurring his words (like when someone is trying to talk to you when s/he is about to fall asleep), and he lost the ability to stand upright or move about without holding onto something--a chair, the sofa, bracing himself against a wall.

He's to have a brain scan in the coming week. I admit, I'm terrified. With the loss of balance, the slurring. . . .but that's borrowing trouble. (Update: an MRI revealed a brain tumor). Today we learned that his most recent PET scan reveals that the cancer has invaded both soft tissue and bone structure. Yup. New tumors. Three of them in different parts of his body. Just. Like. That.

The good news: the doctor seems hopeful about chemotherapy (however, whether or not he can receive chemo remains contingent upon the brain scan's results). (Update: He's started a four-week-long course of radiation for the brain tumor. After this treatment, he'll go onto chemotherapy).

The bad news: My medical insurance ends in June. I might be able to get an extension until September, but I'll have to sit down for some heavy duty negotiating. When I told the doctor about my insurance status, he hemmed and hawed--seriously, he took his time--and said "I'm sure we can work something out." Dude--this is my husband's life. You don't hem and haw when he is in the room. you say "right. Let's talk about that later. Right now, let's . . . ."

While the doctor is hopeful about chemo, he suggests it may only be effective on the soft tissue tumors, and my beloved cannot have further radiation in the area where cancer has invaded bone.

If you have prayers, chants, good wishes to spare--we can use them right about now.

Thank you.

And, if you can, please give something to the American Cancer Society.

A Small Plea

A young woman gets laid off from her job as editor. Then she discovers that she has liver cancer. While she's continued to pay toward health insurance since losing her job, it's still expensive (with insurance). Please go here, and if you can help her out, please do.

Best Wishes to P. J. O’Rourke

Oh, hell no!

Whilst browsing at Andrew Sullivan’s blog, I came across a note alerting all to an article P. J. O’Rourke published today at the L. A. Times, “Give me liberty and give me death: As one's mortality swings into view, be thankful for life -- and whiskey.”

The wonderful Mr. O’Rourke has been diagnosed with cancer (he calls it “cancer of the ass”). Thankfully, it’s “treatable, ” and he’s got a “95% chance of survival.” Prayers and best wishes for Mr. O’Rourke’s speedy, speedy recovery. A snifter or two of Scotch whiskey will be hoisted for you tonight.