A New Direction
I have decided to leave my cancerous bladder, still-healthy prostate, and nearby lymph nodes, where they are, which is to say inside my body. The operation I was considering on the advice of my oncologist was simply too complicated and hazardous. The removal of several organs from my innards held no charm and promised an extremely long convalescence and recuperation. It would require at-home aftercare for an indeterminate amount of time. Plus, I don’t have good luck with surgery. Twice, I woke up during operations, much to the consternation of the attending surgeons. I can assure you this is not a pleasant experience. More recently, what was supposed to be a simple cataract surgery somehow went wrong and now, after three additional procedures, my left eye is essentially blind and I can no longer drive at night. So I think keeping razor sharp implements away from my mid-section is probably wise.
What I have opted for is immunotherapy using a drug called pembrolizumab. This is a relatively new process endorsed by the Food & Drug Administration in January 2020. It claims to work well on the type of cancer I have, which is called ‘BCG-unresponsive, high-risk non-muscle invasive.’ I am unresponsive to Bacillus Calmette-Guerin (BCG) treatment perhaps because it was invented in France, and I am French. If this is the case, I am not amused.
This being said, I may have jumped from frying pan to fire. The list of immunotherapy’s possible side-effects is a full page long, and a video offered by my provider as an informative 90-minute tranquilizer did nothing of the sort. I learned arthralgia–joint pain–is a possibility, as is vitiligo, which can affect the pigmentation of your skin.
I’m fortunate, though, that the infusions will be only once every three weeks, and last less than an hour. Having had friends whose chemo sessions lasted far longer makes me realize that though my illness isn’t much fun, it could be far, far worse.
It’s occasionally hard for me to count my blessings. I have a tendency to ask, “why me” when the question should be, “why not me?”
I wish I had answers to one, or both, questions.
What I have opted for is immunotherapy using a drug called pembrolizumab. This is a relatively new process endorsed by the Food & Drug Administration in January 2020. It claims to work well on the type of cancer I have, which is called ‘BCG-unresponsive, high-risk non-muscle invasive.’ I am unresponsive to Bacillus Calmette-Guerin (BCG) treatment perhaps because it was invented in France, and I am French. If this is the case, I am not amused.
This being said, I may have jumped from frying pan to fire. The list of immunotherapy’s possible side-effects is a full page long, and a video offered by my provider as an informative 90-minute tranquilizer did nothing of the sort. I learned arthralgia–joint pain–is a possibility, as is vitiligo, which can affect the pigmentation of your skin.
I’m fortunate, though, that the infusions will be only once every three weeks, and last less than an hour. Having had friends whose chemo sessions lasted far longer makes me realize that though my illness isn’t much fun, it could be far, far worse.
It’s occasionally hard for me to count my blessings. I have a tendency to ask, “why me” when the question should be, “why not me?”
I wish I had answers to one, or both, questions.
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