New Adventures in Chemotherapy
Entry 1 12:44 p.m.
Jenny is at chemo with Moni, as planned. Her CEA clocked in at 31.7 up from 26.6, a 19.7 percent increase two weeks ago. It is a 178.1% increase since August 12, when they first started tracking this antigen. The CA 19-9 isn't back, and I don't know if it was measured today.
I wish we could go back to a time when we were just mad at each other, or generally unhappy in the relationship. No cancer, no affair. Nada.
As always, this day is terrible. Jenny wishes she could quit chemo, but dutifully goes to get the poison pumped into her veins, knowing the alterative is not an option right now. She will be miserable.
I was informed by Moni that around week 8, which is the next round, per the doctor, there will be side-effects of the Folfox, likely severe. The neuropathy is so grave today her dose is limited to 80%.
My mom worked with ALS patients from 1981 until 2005 when she retired. She watched these people's lives slowly end, as one by one each muscles die until finally, your brain fine, your pulmonary system fails. It is terrible. Every day waking up knowing you have an incurable disease.
It is hard to know what to make of the data and the studies. When I searched for escalating CEA, I found an article entitled, "The dynamic monitoring of CEA in response to chemotherapy and prognosis of mCRC patients." It bothers me that the title doesn't use capitalization appropriately. And, a caveat, mCRC is metastatic colorectal cancer, a different digestive cancer. Even so, these cancer markers generally, as far as I can tell as a lay person, generally have the same import across digestive cancers. The article stated that
"An increase in CEA level by ≥2.7% from week 12 to 18 was an independent negative prognostic factor of OS."
Why don't I post all the encouraging material I read? Well, I haven't found any.

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