Four Months

Being the week of my second Provenge treatment I was going to write about the mechanics of the treatment for those of you that are considering Provenge.  However, after hearing some comments and seeing some reactions about the cost to benefit ratio of Provenge I’ve decided not to write about the mechanics but, instead, the emotion of the treatment.

Not to be argued the treatment is expensive as hell.  What desperate attempt to lengthen one’s longevity treatment isn’t?   Yes, we men who have this treatment are, short of a miracle, terminal.  Yes, for those of you that still feel immortal the return to dollar ratio probably makes no sense.  I get it.  A median increase in longevity of four months seems trivial.

That reaction bothers me.  I think it bothers me most because so many people have no issue with wishing four months to quickly pass.  After all most of us measure time in terms of our mortgage.

I agree, four months will, sadly, pass by much too quickly.  Four months is a blink of an eye, a window of opportunity for a cancer cell, nothing.  Four months is a negligible wisp of time.  Wrong…

I can calculate the cost to benefit ratio of this treatment simply like so:

In four months I can see 120 sunrises and 120 sunsets.

I can go to the cabin with the love of my life, oh let’s say, at least 4 times.

I will hear my son joking at least 120 times.

I will get to kiss my wife at least 240 times.

I’ll get to hold her hand at least 120 times.

I will hear my daughter laugh a minimum of 16 times,

My grandson and step granddaughters will be around at least 16 times.

I’ll receive a hug from my best friend well more than 90 times.

I will help someone less fortunate than I at least 4 times.

Research done on me will cure the guy coming up behind me.  If not him then the next one.

Wind, Crows, BBQ, My co-workers and the many things I missed and didn’t list at least 120 times.

My heart will be 12,096,000 times [if I did the math right]

All of that and more in a median four months, we should calculate the cost.  Let’s see just this partial list alone is 12,096,971 events.  Basic math makes each of those events coldly worth .007 cents each.  Throw out the statistical skewing heart beats and you get about 87 bucks per event.  I’d pay 87 bucks in a heartbeat to be at the cabin.

Take it from someone who no longer says “thank god it’s Friday”  Four months can be a lifetime.

We are thinking about you C

Wow Laughter Is Medicine

My insurance, surprisingly, gave the full speed ahead, on a relatively new and definitely extraordinarily expensive treatment for guys with this crappy disease.  It has been proven effective.  I and many others for that matter look forward to its success but that doesn’t belay the trepidation I’m having toward tomorrow’s opening round.

Some demonic scheduler wants me, with my driver, at the main admitting desk tomorrow morning 6:00 A.M.  That’s cruelty of having to get up around 4:30 A.M.  I’m not sure that time is even on my alarm clock.  Tomorrow I’m being out fitted with a Hickman Trifusion Catheter.  Why this has to take place during the wee hours of the morning is beyond me but I digress and perhaps bitch too much.

This installation is the only part of the treatment that I have not done yet on this journey I’m on.  The other two processes involved are lengthy and boring.   But, I really shouldn’t have watched the You Tube installation training video.  I’ve been blessed with a vivid imagination that is at times a curse and this is the fuel for my trepidation.

Today, trepidation in hand, I walked into the house and my office only to find a very large box sitting in my office chair.  Surprised and unable to imagine what could possibly be in the box I read the shipping label;  Provenge Comfort Kit.  I still couldn’t imagine what was in the box.  I did think so this is why the treatment is so expensive the Pharma Company sends its clients gifts in large boxes.

I put the semi heavy box on the kitchen table and we tore into it like kids Christmas morning.  Inside was a letter suggesting for my comfort and care givers boredom to take this gift to pheresis and infusion appointments.  Underneath the letter was nice back pack with a pull out handle so you could let the pack tag along behind you like a puppy.  Stenciled across the back of the pack in the latest Pharma color, Tango Mango this year, was the Provenge logo.

I won’t go through the whole inventory of the pack but each pocket had some little “treasure” in it.  It was fun “discovering” what goodies they had packed each with the Provenge logo.  I laughed and said “Isn’t cancer fun?”

Cancer isn’t fun.  Not at all.  I’m also not naïve enough to not understand a marketing ploy if I’ve ever seen one.  But for ten or so minutes we didn’t think about our trepidation and we laughed like little kids.  Proving, what they say about laughter and all that is true. 

Perhaps even in the bleakest of circumstances there is something to laugh at and if there isn’t then perhaps we should find something to laugh at.  Hell, no matter the circumstance we should laugh every day.  I know that's my new goal.

Talk to you later