Let me give you a great piece of advice right here at the top: If you get stricken with a serious illness that is going to require you to see a bunch of doctors AND accurately recount the dates and times of stuff you’ve had done medically for you and to you over the years, start out from the day of your diagnosis and WRITE IT ALL DOWN!
We reported today at 9:00 a.m. for my 9:30 appointment on the 7th floor at elevator U in the Mays Clinic of the M. D. Anderson Cancer Center. We finally saw the doctor at 2 p.m. For some reason it was comforting to know that even a world-class, mega-cancer center is too busy to stay on schedule for appointments. But first, let me back up a bit.
Last night after a gloriously authentic Tex-Mex dinner at El Tiempo Cantina, we were gassing up the car and my phone rang. I looked down at the screen and saw my card playing buddy, Fred Morgan’s, name. I refused the call, cause I still think if you answer a cellphone while gassing up your car you could end up in flames like a freebasing Richard Pryor. Since I am really not in shape to run down the street, regardless of whether or not I happen to be in flames, I decided to call Fred back.
Then it hit me. I had planned to call Fred and Susan (he’s just getting over cancer surgery our here at M. D. A.) and see if there was anything we could bring them from the homeland. I could pack my pockets full of Krystal hamburgers, Country’s BBQ or a Dinglewood scrambled dog. But NO, I was caught up in my own little world, I didn’t think to call them until we were four hours out of Houston. What was I going to do then? “Hey Fred, can I bring you a Lone Star beer?”
So, I called him back and was apologetic about not thinking to call them earlier and we discovered that we were both due at the same waiting room within 15 minutes of the other the next morning and decided to meet up this morning. Standing next to me, Fred looks like a very skinny version of the Unibomber. Here I am, dressed all in black trying to look svelte and he strolls up with that freshly surgerized swagger in a hoodie. If I was a neighborhood watch director, like my friend, Rick McKnight, I might of put a cap in Fred, all hoodied up like that. Once I checked his ID and knew him not to be an innocent, young black man who might be out to do me harm, we had a nice visit over a cup of Joe and moseyed up to our appointment.
After we checked in, we were handed an itinerary and assigned another waiting room. They triaged me (checked my BP, temperature and pulse) and we waited again. We were called back to an exam room at around 11:45. A young M. D. Anderson Fellow, Dr. Kwang, spent about an hour with us going over my history. Why I didn’t think to grab my iPad and call up that March, 2012 blog post that chronicled my history from diagnosis until today is beyond me! I stumbled over dates and times and treatments. It was like a reenactment of one of Basset and Becker Alzheimers poker games, where Fred Morgan, Bill Becker, Jack Basset, Bobby Smith, John Kelly, Ted Short and Berry Henderson and I sit around without a single shred of ability to remember what game we’re playing, who has bet or even what day it is.
We stressed the importance to Dr. Kwang that we are traveling from afar and that we would like to move things along quickly and that if surgery is required, we’d like Dr. Christopher Wood to do it and preferably now. Once he gave us a thorough going over, he came back with Dr. Lance Pagliaro. Not that it matters, I was surprised to see Dr. Pagliaro, roll into the exam room in a wheel chair. He greeted us and went over his discussions with Dr. Kwang and their review of my extensive file and all the scans we had brought with us.
Here is his conclusion: “Mr. Venable, the cancer you have seems to not be an agressive cancer. It appears that you have only one site of metastasis and it definitely can be managed surgically. We’d like to do our own CT scans, a brain MRI, a bone scan, a chest x-ray and blood work. We’ll schedule them quickly over the next couple of days and I concur with your request to have Dr. Chris Wood do your surgery if surgery is required,” he said.
If he was the olympic wordsmith that I claim to be, he would have busted out the word “indolent” this morning. Indolent has become one of my very favorite words. It has, thankfully, been used on numerous occasions to describe my slowly progressing cancer. So, we’re here for the week. I have a brain MRI and a bone scan tomorrow. We hope to meet with Dr. Chris Wood on Wednesday for a surgical consultation. The CT scan and x-ray are scheduled for Thursday. That is all we have on the agenda for now.
Dr. Pagliaro went on to say that, “considering the passive nature of your disease, you could live for a long time by addressing these single mets surgically. You could always go on one of the many other therapies available to you that are FDA approved and then after that there are always clinical trials.” I recall what Dr. Dan George at Duke University Hospital told us when he said, “I have thousands of patients who would trade places with you in a heartbeat.” We appear to have been dealt something of a tentative inside straight. Not the straight flush we had wanted, but definitely better than that 7-high hand that so many of the people we have been among on this day have in their pockets. We are blessed.
As we know more, we’ll share it. Unless we go to a movie or shopping or something, We’ve got a lots of free time.
Carter Seaton says
Good news does come in strange packages sometimes. Blessings on you and Jill for the rest of your visit.
Grandin says
I like Dr. Pagliaro already…. I like the way he rolls!!!! – (: G
mike says
Grandin, only you, buddy! Only you. Thanks for the laugh. Needed it. Roll on, brother!
virginia Pope says
Great news! Hope you and Jill will have some time for a movie,.
Love y’all
Hope Phillips says
Truth be told, I dreaded reading this. Friends and suffering don’t sit well with me. So glad, HOWEVER, to hear about your “tentative inside straight.” Smiles everyone!
Betsy Covington says
You guys have certainly been in my thoughts all day, and I’m grateful for the update. I’m even more grateful for the news! I guess that “More surgery” isn’t everybody’s idea of great news, but if it’s what’s called for here and they can knock this one down, go for it. We’ll have “Indolent” printed on your next t-shirt. Or, better yet, maybe “Indolent & Insolent!” I’m just glad you avoided “a freak gasoline-fight incident” (from Zoolander, one of the funniest of movies). Keep the good news coming, friend.
Brenda French says
Sounds like you are in good hands….and not alone. So in your narrative that I am sure you will have for years to come but in a computerized fashion so you can email it or pull it up at your next doc appointment. (Cause you know Dr. Chris Wood is going to want you to recite it all again also). I have another idea…..you can also write a nice note called “Where to go and What to do while you are Waiting” to be seen for your next appointment, scan, treatments, lab test, consultation, etc…..For example you have already mentioned a nice dining place I am sure….how many $$$$ I am unsure. Because I am an educator, nurse and writer I want to know it all…..I have heard that MDA has a camp grounds area and I know someone that years ago just moved their travel trailer there and stayed with their daughter through treatments. Another friend that was there staying in a hotel invited me over to hang out in between treatments…is that really a ok??? Anyway you get the drift. As long as you are there waiting…..might as well get a book deal out of it. Maybe Jill could write her story unlike Lee Woodruff’s “In an Instant” it could be titled “Waiting on a Man”…in memory of course of Andy Griffith and Brad Paisley’s video Waiting on a Woman….Best wishes to you both and Godspeed through this maze we know as life. I await the next installment of your adventure.
Cathy Alford says
Mike, I was hoping for an update today. Blessings inn disguise….so many you are touching with your story. Hang in there. My prayers are with you and Jill.
Cathy
P.s. sitting here with Spuds cousin from Texas and casually mentioned your situation as Im rudely typing a response to you on my ipad rather than talking to him….he asked”
“who is his doctor? Mine was dr. Chris Jones who is the best.” Just learned for the first time Tim had renal cell carcinoma 11 years ago. They found his early… Took 2/3 of his kidney. Small world, isn’t it?
Spencer Champion says
Mike, you continue to amaze me and I am sure many others. Hoping for the best possible outcome.
Callie says
Sorry they are unsatisfied with evidence of prior poking and prodding, thus subjecting you to a round of their own P & P. But so happy to hear a familiar tune coalesce–indolent disease, you can live a long time, other therapies available if needed. This is a chorus we could learn to appreciate! (It’s got a strong beat and it’s easy to dance to, Dick Clark.) We’ll keep fingers crossed that they can schedule surgery so you don’t have to make another trip.
All is well here, so relax as much as you can and enjoy Houston!
Hugs from all at 214A!
Callie
Grandin says
Mike….. Tell me what email address your notifications should be arriving under. I did not get a notification e-mail about this post. I want to check and make sure I have not accidentally blocked it as spam. – Grandin
Tom says
Mike– this is the very best text I have read all day… No, all week! I am so pleased to hear the optimistic prognosis and look forward to getting you and Jill back home ASAP.
Jane Bayer says
We’ve been praying for you all day. Sounds like good news!
Royce Ard says
Good news Mike. Thinking of you and Jill.
Cyndy says
Capping Fred could have ruined your otherwise promising week. Behave yourself … but have some fun, too.
Tripp Wade says
Mike, so glad to hear the positive news. We are thinking about you both… Still amazed at your humours ability to write your status reports. Best of Luck this week….Will be looking out for more updates.
Marian says
Hey Mikey! I just typed out this long, profound comment, and then my iPad went beserk and dumped it somewhere. This’ll probably be less profound, but just wanted to say that Doug and I were talking about you at dinner, wondering how today went. I was so happy and surprised to see your post. Hey, it all sounds good to me. “Passive nature”, “Not aggressive” – this is good, right? As for more tests, more prodding and poking, with every doc, you’re fresh meat, and they treat you like you’re a virgin patient – so to speak. Are y’all staying at the Rotary House? A few years ago, I spent a week there with a friend who was undergoing treatments at MDA. It was sure convenient to just cross the sky bridge to the hospital. I loved hearing that bell ring, meaning that someone had successfully completed their treatments. I get to ring the bell at my oncologist here in Augusta on August 13th.
We’re praying that THIS is the place with the key, the magic bullet – whatever the term is. You’ve been to hell and back (several times), and now it’s time to put all that behind you. We’re pulling for you, friend!
Bill and Sandra Henry says
Terrific news, Mike! Our continuing love and prayers!
Betsy Lawrence says
Great news! Thanks for updating us!
Margie Ivey says
I like the positive news and hope you both feel better. Thanks for keeping us posted.
Kate Nerone says
“I have thousands of patients who would trade places with you in a heartbeat.”
That’s a sobering sentence. I have decided to focus on your good fortune in being The One. May your luck hold, strong & true. xo
Mary Choi says
Mike…what great news! I will continue to pray for you and Jill! Thank you for sharing your wonderful words with the world.
David and Debbie Harrell says
Wonderful news.
Tina Smith says
Really small world..I too am a patient of Dr Pagliaro,since feb..he and all his staff are great!I am also seeing Dr.wood today to get ready for surgery real soon.Prayers are with you!MDA is Great.
Stacie Reddish says
Good news!! So so glad to hear it!!