Life is good

Well, this time I didn’t disappear for six months, I kept on chugging along. In October, I came down with kidney stones and ended up in Houston Medical getting the stones pounded with sound waves. One thing after another, and I ended with up a superbug infection which kept me in the hospital for a week. I recognized that what the doctor thought was “referred” pain in my spine was troubling, so as soon as I was released, I made arrangements to be rechecked for cancer at Mayo. Within days, Mayo found that the squamous cancer had reappeared up and down my spine. My prior declaration of “cancer free” was null and void, which was always possible. Life is good.

 My primary Mayo radiologist-oncologist was distraught over the diagnosis. He had done so much, he had put so much into my treatment, given so much care to Mary Ann and me, he was clearly shaken. The diagnosis was, maybe, I had three months to live. The earlier treatment had been so aggressive that no further treatment of my upper spine was possible. They did radiation on my lower and middle spine, but the upper spine was out of the question. Dr. Ko and Mary Ann had a boo-hoo together as I pondered the next move. Life is good.

Mary Ann told Dr. Ko that the diagnosis was not acceptable. She got really adamant about it. Everyone needs an advocate, I’ve got a great one. I was still sitting there pondering life, the shortness of it all, but the glory of it as well. Then Dr. Ko mentioned that a colleague was doing some fascinating work in immunotherapy, so he set up a referral to Dr. Dronca. Life is good.

Dr. Dronca met with us shortly thereafter. As with all Mayo doctors, she knew my entire story before we met. She was super nice, super polite, but cut to the chase. She was doing work in a clinical trial that had been approved in October by the FDA. It’s now early December. A trial program had just been approved for squamous skin cancer treatment. It has previously been used for breast and lung cancer squamous with some amazing results, but I would be Mayo’s first patient with squamous skin cancer to be admitted, if I was willing. That was easy I told her, if my participation saves my life, great. If it doesn’t, but helps others down the road, that’s a win too. Let’s do it, side effects and all. Life is good.

So I’ve had three treatments so far. One treatment every three weeks. The basic idea is that this drug tells T-cells to turn into killer Ts, and to ignore the false message from this cancer that it isn’t a threat. When it sees that message, attack it. Why three weeks? Didn’t pay attention in biology, did you? White blood cells have a three-week lifespan. T-cells come from white blood cells. Thus, every three weeks the doctors’ juice me up with Libtayo, the hopefully miracle drug that will stabilize my cancer, if not cure it altogether. So far, so good. No side effects other than I like it cool in the house. I get my treatment and come home in a day or two afterwards. I’m working on building up stamina and improving nerve health. All in all, I’m doing pretty good for a guy who should have been dead already. Life is good.

The new battlefield against cancer will be immunotherapy, as doctors learn how to turn on the power of the human body: physically, emotionally and spiritually, to harness the power within us. This fight will be won. Life is good.

Kelly Burke, master attorney, former district attorney and magistrate judge, is engaged in private practice. He writes about the law, rock’n’roll and politics or anything that strikes him. These articles are not designed to give legal advice, but are designed to inform the public about how the law affects their daily lives. Contact Kelly at kelly@burkelasseterllc.com to comment on this article or suggest articles that you’d like to see and visit his website www.kellyrburke.com to view prior columns.