MSI Press Blog

  Recently, a Cancer Diary post addressed what all too often happens when cancer is diagnosed at a late stage, especially at advanced Stage 4. But how do you get that far without a diagnosis? In Carl's case, we missed the early signs, ignored the warning signs, and excused his bad behavior. Early signs The early signs were mostly associated with our expectations of aging. He was getting into his seventh decade. So, we were not surprised when he was no longer up for hiking mountains or spending eight hours a day on the job. In fact, I was always coaxing him to put just a little more time into working since working from the same office, I was quite aware of how much effort I was putting in on a daily and even hourly basis than he was. I chalked it up to his being lazier than usual as he aged. (Work was never where he wanted to concentrate his efforts, anyway. He was an ESTP on the MBTI, someone who loved to play, put things off, and spend time in the outdoors.) But even some of that ...

  This is a slightly different kind of Cancer Diary post. It is not sharing information but rather asking for it.  One of the MSI Press staff, who lives in Nigeria, sent a note yesterday: "Sadly, I have some bad news to share with you. My mother has been diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer that has now spread to the bone to cause  Spinal Metastasis ,  resulting in   a   fracture of the right femoral neck with the femoral head tilting into varus position and surrounding bone marrow and joint effusion. I was wondering if you know of any US-based not-for-profit organisation that helps women in Africa (especially in Nigeria) in this kind of condition with medical, counselling or financial assistance?  We are in need of medical assistance to manage my mother's condition. I was hoping that you can connect me with any such organisation to provide us with the best treatment options available. The medical expenses associated with ...

  In March, Carl was diagnosed with advanced stage 4 (metastatic) cancer of unknown primary. In August, he died.  When we got the diagnosis, we had to choose a detour from our normal life. There was no way to move straight ahead with life as usual because, you see, there was this big obstacle, called cancer, straight ahead. So, the question was to detour to the left and choose a treatment option, hope, and focus on the living or detour to the right and let nature takes its course, choose to accept the situation at face value, letting nature take its course, and focus on the dying. To fight or to surrender? There was no logical superiority of either path, not knowing what lay behind the cancer tree and how long was the path for it  continued out of sight. We decided not through reasoning but through conditioned reaction to fight. That is what we had done all our adult lives, as we successfully navigated life for four children, two with rare birth defects, and three grandch...

  Carl, whose experience launched this blog and the MSI Press's Carl's Cancer Compendium (CCC) died after a very short 5 months post-diagnosis of occult cancer, or, as the official term goes, Cancer of Unknown Primary (CUP).  Carl fell February 23 and went to the local hospital where staff found advanced stage 4 metastatic cancer in five organs and subsequently transferred him to Stanford University Hospital, stating he would not likely return him. He did return home, for a brief four months--and he died at home on hospice almost a month later, having spent only 10 days in that capacity.  Stanford spent almost a month trying to determine the original cancer that had spread to these five organs (none of these organs was the original.) That is the problem with CUP. Finding the original seems out of reach and a guessing game. The doctor made his best guess, based on the spread pattern, but the cocktail he came up with for chemotherapy while doing no harm also did no good. T...