See, when I had more treatments in front of me each time it seemed like there was a safety net: “if my cancer isn’t gone just yet, I’ve still got two more treatments to knock it out.” Now I’m on my own. Frankly, I think I’ve been pretty good about watching my diet in the past few years, so I’m not sure there’s much I can change there. I can certainly do better about exercising. It doesn’t really provide comfort that the causes of lymphoma remain vague at best, bordering on unknown. So there isn’t some lifestyle factor I can point to and say “if I just cut this out of my diet or my life, I won’t get lymphoma again.”


It didn’t help me forge an optimistic demeanor to have been feeling worse since the last chemo session. I’ve been much more tired and sore, for instance. Dr. Seifter says the fatigue is cumulative, and he’s right. Also, my hands and feet have been numb. Not in the “can’t feel anything at all” way but rather in the “cold and insensitive” way. When I held my fingers in certain ways, like when grasping a pencil or cupping my palm to pour pills into it I would cramp up (had terrible leg and foot cramps, too) though that seems to be getting better with each passing day. But I’ve also had a couple of other issues that have kept my attention…

Around the time of my fifth treatment in November I developed a rash that eventually covered about 30% of my legs, and was spreading to my back and was also on my arms. I’ve never been so itchy in my life. I’m sure everyone I talked to during that time got tired of me complaining, but perhaps I can put this in perspective by saying that I was seriously weighing whether it would be less uncomfortable to simply take a steak knife and carve away the affected areas, or to continue to apply creams and lotions and wait for the swelling to go down. It turns out this rash may have been a reaction to an antibiotic that was part of my regimen of pills. So my doctor stopped those and also had me take more of my steroid pills, and that did seem to cut down most of the rash pretty quickly, though small vestiges of it continue to pop up. For several days, though, I was taking an ice-cold shower every night before bed, and nothing is more relaxing before going to sleep, and another ice-cold rinse when I woke up. I was also sleeping with ice packs tucked under my back and against my legs, which probably sounds horrible but actually did provide some relief so I was able to rest. The downside of that practice was waking up at 4 a.m. to discover that they had all melted, and having to go downstairs to get replacement packs out of the freezer so I could make it through the rest of the night.

Just before Christmas I developed a lump in my arm that’s been worrying me as well. It’s about the size of a marble near my elbow on my forearm, with another smaller mass about an inch down toward my hand. If I hadn’t just gone through six sessions of chemotherapy I’d think it was swollen lymph nodes. But my doctor looked at this and concluded it was a superficial blood clot (which I believe in this case means “near the skin” more so than “of little consequence”) and now after taking large doses of Advil for three days it is being reduced in size and pain level. Apparently the superficial clots rarely cause serious problems: it’s the deep ones that end up in your lungs or brain and sometimes kill.

Anyhoo, all of this fatigue and discomfort and general yuckiness have made me fairly cranky. Edna’s had a lot to put up with. One afternoon I marched into the room and announced that we were canceling all our magazine subscriptions (and we only get two or three) because I was sick of having all these damned magazines around the house! I’ve softened my view on that issue since then. Another day I claimed that I’d be eager to replace our kitchen sink if we ever remodeled, and the next day I had no memory of saying so and can’t imagine why I’d ever have thought that to be a reasonable idea. So I guess along with being cranky I’ve been somewhat deranged. Great.

[edna: still planning on a groovy farm-style sink; also, spiked egg nog coupled with an “are you talkin’ to me?” response helps deal with his outbursts.]

Now, after all this whining I know you’re wondering: is there any GOOD news in that sad man’s life? Sure there is.

This week I had a CT scan, which apparently shows (I have only heard in a phone call from Dr. Seifter, and haven’t seen the full report or the scans yet) that all the visible traces of my lymphoma are gone. As he told me when I started treatment under his care, such results won’t necessarily mean that there’s not some small microscopic vestige of this lurking in my system somewhere, so I can’t properly claim to be 100% cured. In fact, the doctor pointed out early on that the only time he can say anything with certainty is when it’s bad, as in “I’m 100% certain there are new tumors growing.” But this latest test does seem to indicate strongly that the chemotherapy has been very effective, and also virtually eliminates the possibility that the lumps on my arm are newly-inflamed cancerous lymph nodes after all.

But the CT scan also showed that I had a polyp in my intestines that had not been seen before, so I get to start the new year, as one friend put it, “staring a colonoscopy in the eye.” The doctor says that most of the time these polyps turn out to not to be a problem, but it still has to be checked.

We had a nice quiet Christmas, and a number of friends and relatives checked in and several sent nice gifts. I was delighted to have my one of my oldest and dearest friends since I moved here come over. Amy Deputy stopped by one afternoon and we had a nice time together. She and I worked together for years at The Baltimore Sun, and it is due to Amy that I began shooting weddings, so she’s had a strong influence on me from nearly the day we met. Look for more pictures of her in the Basement Gallery when I update that in the next couple weeks (I’m hoping to add a couple more people to round out the collection.)

I have also been back in touch with my former yoga teacher, one of the nicest people on the planet, and it turns out he’s had an interesting autumn as well after a bus in which he was riding in the Peruvian Andes was struck by a boulder (which from the picture I saw appears to be about the size of, oh, another bus) and he and others were injured. Shocking as that was, I’m glad to report that he says he is recovering nicely as well. Throughout my summertime back troubles and during all this chemotherapy, yoga has been one of the few things I could practice that helped me feel better, even in those times where all I could do was lay on my back and do a couple of very basic stretches and poses. I’m sure it will be a big factor in my ongoing recovery in the months and years ahead, and much of that is due to him. Thank you, Moses.


In all, I expect 2007 will be better than 2006 — by any definition it almost HAS to be — and Edna & I wish you all good health and peace and prosperity for the new year. Likely there will be a few more updates on this site (look for an announcement that I’ve posted pictures from the colonoscopy in the “gallery of gory pictures” — or perhaps the “Basement Gallery” is more appropriate!) and if things go as I expect those updates will all be of a positive tone. And again I must thank all of you who have kept up with my rantings and have sent your messages and other expressions of support. That has really helped me through some tough times, and I’m dearly touched to have people like you in my life.

Happy New Year, everyone!