Friday, December 24, 2010

Happy Christmas, (war is over).



It's Christmas eve, and Brendan and I finally started and completed our present buying in under 2 hours - impressive. I hadn't seen Brendan since he dropped me off at the airport almost two weeks ago, so when I met him at the store last night I was shocked to see big fluffy eyebrows, the shadow of a day without shaving, and a layer of fuzz all over his head.
Brendan's hair has come back, and it came back fast. The top of his head feels like the softest belly of the softest puppy. His eyebrows are even bushier than they were before he lost them, and it looks like he will have to start shaving again.
2010. The year of things that happened so fast.

In the past two days I have talked to two close friends who never even knew Brendan had been diagnosed. I hadn't seen/talked to them since the summer - and now here we are - salting the sidewalks to keep away the snow. Concentrating light waves to eliminate any stragglers.

Yesterday was day 1 of 15 for the next phase of treatment - radiation. For the time being, Brendan's chest is now covered in black marker, and each mark is blanketed by "stickers" - protective measures from the threat of bath-time elimination. The other new addition to Brendan's body - 3 small tattoos. Brendan has 3 blue freckles, one on each side of his torso, and one in the center, near his sternum. All of this just to make sure they line him up in the right spot each time. It is a quick process, like a very loud x-ray, and Brendan feels nothing. Although, he said that didn't stop him from closing his eyes tight and twisting his head away just in case...

The port gets removed soon as well. Brendan looks and feels like his old self again.

Eventually this will be a memory marked by scars and freckles. Marked by a new family foundation. Marked by woven bracelets and the gradual tapering off of doctor's visits. Marked by strength and adoration for our hero. Marked by victory.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Thank heavens




Tonight, Brendan (freshly sans eyebrows) and I settled down in front of the giant tree in Dad's living room to watch a movie I don't expect any one else in the world to know about - let alone love as much as we do, or laugh quite as hard as we do at the video clip above.
We hadn't watched it together in years, and as it progressed we were constantly reminded of the hilarious moments we love and all the times we would continuously rewind to hear our favorite jokes over and over again.
It was during 'My Father The Hero' that Brendan's phone rang, Dr. Rose on the other line.


The PET scan results are in.

Clear. They're clear.

Brendan's chest is clear.

Clear.


Of course he will still go through radiation. And just because his chest didn't light up doesn't mean there aren't small amounts of cancer hiding out and sneaking around. But just as the real snow starts to pile up in this frigid Chicago December, that mound of metaphorical snow that Dr. Rose had told us about that horrible day in July has been diminished.
Sometimes the heat of July seems so distant. I remember driving to see Brendan that night, and none of us talking directly about anything for the first 20 minutes we were all together. I remember the air in the room when we finally did. I remember my legs sticking together underneath the skirt I wore that first trip to Dr. Rose's office. I remember how bright the sun was that day. The headache I had. The night I spent in my small apartment scared and crying harder than I've ever cried, deafening the ears and soaking the shoulders of someone I had loved. I remember it happening very fast.
So here we stand. Stronger people. A stronger family.
The strongest brother.

Brendan is hoping to get in to see Dr. Rose right away tomorrow for some blood work and to plan radiation. Getting it done this year means getting it done before the new insurance cycle rolls around and we have to start from scratch - working through the deductible before things are covered. The more he can get done and the sooner he can get it done the better.
Cancer treatment is expensive

Brendan is visibly stronger. Visibly happier. Visibly balder.
I've never appreciated or admired him more.

[exhale]
clear.

Monday, December 6, 2010

brentuximab vedotin

(Reuters) - A pivotal trial of Seattle Genetics' experimental cancer-targeting antibody for patients with Hodgkin's lymphoma found that more than a third of them achieved complete remission of their cancer.Seattle Genetics had said in September that 75 percent of the trial's 102 patients had remissions or tumor shrinkage of at least 50 percent. The trial involved patients who had stopped responding to standard treatments for the lymphatic cancer.
Brentuximab vedotin links a tumor-targeting antibody to a cancer-killing chemotherapy drug with the goal of limiting side effects. It is designed to home in on an antigen expressed in Hodgkin's lymphoma, several types of T-cell lymphoma and other hematologic malignancies.

This story is all over my internet-based news sources today. How exciting!

More general updating is soon to come - after a much needed break from the stress of treatment, Brendan had the intensely anticipated PET scan two days ago. We are waiting for those results, which will dictate the next step of treatment.
As I wrote in an email to a friend earlier today - other than the slight nervous energy around the results of the PET scan, everyone is breathing easier these days. There is a change in Brendan now that he isn't being poisoned every week. His laugh is more genuine, he seems more relaxed, and he has been able to enjoy a vacation to Scotland and late nights out with his old friends.
The differences are slight, but they are there.
We're okay.


EDIT/UPDATE 1.14.2012 

The FDA just added a new warning about this drug as a few people have developed progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy (PML), which is a rare but serious brain infection.

Brentuximab was approved by the FDA in August 2011 for the treatment of Hodgkin's lymphoma and systemic anaplastic large cell lymphoma. At the time of approval, 1 case of PML was described in the warnings and precautions section of the label. So there are now 3 cases associated with the drug.
The signs and symptoms of PML can develop over the course of several weeks or months. They can include changes in mood or usual behavior; confusion; thinking problems; loss of memory; changes in vision, speech, or walking; and decreased strength or weakness on one side of the body.