No Bad News Is Just Like Good News

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Aunt Em at Ninety Eight

My Aunt Florene called to say my 99 year old Aunt Emma has recovered enough from her broken hip to return home.  Most old folks going home from the care home are probably going to their eternal home, not back to S. River Street.  Good for you, Aunt Em.

I called my Oncologist today to hear my test results.  She said the full skeletal survey looked good, no tumors found (every time I feel a tweak in my back now I wonder if it’s a tumor).  The MRI showed a severe compression fracture @T8 – but no change from the last MRI.  The 24 hour urine test shows some protein, but she didn’t sound concerned.  She said to wait for bone marrow biopsy at the end of June, which will tell the real story.

Glen Canfield 1932 – 2012

My three Canfield brothers each called today to tell me our dad died.  He was 80, living (dieing) in the Philippines.  I don’t remember him as a dad; he and my mother divorced when I was three years old.  I would see him now and then, but I got to know him when I worked in his cabinet shop when Diane and I first married.  It was odd to be in the company of a stranger who was my father.  I’m glad I got to spend some time with him.

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One Test Brings More

The good news is: I get to officially raise my lifting limit from 10 lbs to 25.  I had hoped to turn that letter in at work, impressing everyone with the advance of my improvement, but, the bad news is, my Oncologist called today with recent test results.  My Spep is now 1.2, a very small increase, but a continued increase.  I’m on the calendar for an MRI.  She also wants another skeletal survey to see if there are more tumors under construction, and on June 29 th, another bone marrow biopsy (top contender for most pain felt.  I asked for this one to be done under sedation).  This will determine if its time for treatment or if there’s more precious time to wait.

This is me heading home after a minor disturbance at a local establishment. Okay, not really.