...Lace Up Your Gloves...

This was plagarized from Greg's weekly Wednesday update, but I couldn't have said it any better myself...

There are medical terms that Jen and I don’t understand, and medical terms that we do understand. “WHOA!” falls into the latter category. “WHOA!” is the exact term that Dr. Cavalcant used today upon examining Jen’s abdominal area, after struggling to find the mass that once loomed larger. While whatever is in there still exists, it clearly has shrunk significantly, and that, in the understatement of the day, is very good news.

So, it's working. Whatever they are pumping into my veins each week is working. Thank GOD. I get my CA 125 (tumor marker) tested next week too, and with any luck it will have dropped from the count of 536 from mid-July. (Wow, I nearly made a huge typo and put 5236. It might have been high, but it wasn't THAT outrageous.) But the abdominal masses are shrinking. I had a feeling they were, seeing as I dilgently poke and prod the offending area each night before I fall asleep, at least once in the middle of the night, and a time or two in the morning before getting out of bed. Obsess much? I suppose I'm entitled.

It's working. The shit actually works.

Dr. C has also decided that I should take weekly doses of the Taxotere instead of 3 weeks on, one off, since I'm tolerating it so well, with the caveat that if I want the off week, I can always have it. So much for the less is more theory in this case. It won't shorten my course of treatment any more, but if whatever is working continues working, the extra boost can't hurt.

It's working... thank god.