MSI Press Blog

  image from www.cancercenter.com When Carl was diagnosed with cancer, our vet-oncologist, who was successfully treating several of our cats who have various forms of cancer -- skin cancer, lymphoma, breast cancer, lung cancer -- with immunotherapy and encouraged us to ask for immunotherapy for Carl. If only... As it turned out, immunotherapy has to be targeted as the primary cancer organ, and that organ could not be found for Carl, who was eventually (but quickly) diagnosed with cancer of unknown primary (a very rare and deadly form of cancer, but we have heard of a couple of other folks in our social circles who experienced it -- and died as quickly as he did). Fortunately, for most of the organs, there are now immunotherapies (and research is finding/creating more). So, most people now have a choice between chemotherapy and immunotherapy -- and maybe some other treatments. For an updated list from the Cancer Research Institute on the latest immunotherapies, check here . This page a

  Today would have been the 54th anniversary for Carl  and me. Last year, I spent it in the cemetery with Carl, as I did the year before. This year I cannot because I am in Bandung, Indonesia, but perhaps that is just as well.  On our 51st, he was alive, but not well. Three weeks earlier, he had fallen, been xrayed, and found to be in the advanced stage of cancer of unknown primary , with liver, lungs, bones, and stomach completely riddled with cancer cells, blood clots in his lungs, and his bones throwing off cells to create hypercalcemia, the reason he had fallen. It was a difficult time. We were just coming out of the covid months. We brought our CHARGE Syndrome son CB who had been living in group homes for 20 years home when they were not careful with protection from covid. At the same time, our spina bifida daughter, who lives about 30 miles to the south of us, independently, with a county-provided part-time aide lost her caregiver to surgery and no one wanted to take over, given

  Our beloved 12-year-old cat, Snyezhka , a Siamese mix whom we rescued from a life on the street when she was 1-2 years old, pulling her from a fight with two tom cats that she seemed to be winning in spite of unfair odds, has appeared in Caturday posts before. So, if you want to see more information about her -- and more pictures -- just click on the link. Snyezhka went from street cat to lap cat not immediately but gradually, with time, gaining confidence in her relationships with the humans and other felines in our house. She immediately recognized Happy Cat because he had been rescued from the street before she was, and they had bonded. That helped her to blend into the family (of six cats and three people) fairly quickly. She became my lap cat, always snuggling up to me even when there was not a lap available. Clearly, she loved her family. She had no desire to go back on the street nor to take even a step outdoors when a door was left accidentally open although she loved sitting

  (diagram and contents of diagram from Beth Frates via Twitter) Literature gives suggestions for caregiver as if life is calm and caregivers are never angry or stressed out (implying that it is wrong to be so). The reality is that even in the best of circumstances, i.e. the existence of good support systems, caregivers do burn out . Thinking that other caregivers do not and that it is wrong to be angry or somehow even to instinctively respond with an unkind word or behavior is somehow is unique and makes one a bad person creates quite a guilt trip later.  In normal, circumstances, caregivers become sleep-deprived. Sleep deprivation leads NATURALLY to short tempers, frequent frustration, and, yes, bad decisions. Individuals' decisions that are made while sleep deprived cannot be thought of as intentional or well considered. At one point, I was so sleep-deprived that I fell asleep and drove off the road and into a field of cabbage (fortunately, I was not on a major highway), with m

  Earlier, I wrote about the two paths that erupted in front us when faced with a late-stage cancer diagnosis: to focus on living or to focus on dying. There are so many problems and so much confusion when told after a fall or a blood test or something else that seems otherwise innocuous that your loved one has advanced stage 4 cancer.  The worst thing about a late-stage diagnosis is time, or the lack thereof. Not just the time left for a cancer victim to live, but the time available to make decisions.  The first decision--to treat or go on hospice --is a significant one, and there is often no time to really think in through. From my own experience with more than one relative diagnosed with more than one kind of cancer at an advanced stage, there is an automatic, nearly instinctive choice made, not a reasoned one. Got insurance? Treat the cancer. Don't have insurance? Don't treat the cancer. Those are clearly not the most logical or even medically best or viable criteria, but

  With the rumors floating about these days, especially inside Russia, about Putin's health and a visiting oncologist, thyroid cancer is in the news. While I have no inside information (thyroid cancer? Parkinson's, growing old? all in the minds of the rumor mongers?) and therefore will not comment on Putin's state of health, I will note that Carl's Cancer Compendium recently fleshed out a fair amount of information related to thyroid cancer (which just might be helpful to people other than Putin who may be exhibiting some symptoms of one of the more treatable, if caught early, cancers). From the site: Thyroid cancer Definition : A cancer that develops in the cells of thyroid gland, a butterfly-shaped gland located just below adam’s apple in the neck. It causes difficulty swallowing hoarseness, lump on the neck, and swollen lymph nodes in the neck.  Types  include Papillary  Thyroid Cancer Follicular  Thyroid Cancer Medullary  Thyroid Cancer Anaplastic  Thyroid Cancer Ca

  Choosing hospice is choosing to die. That may sound like a stark statement, but it is, in my experience, a true one. Now, when confronted with cancer, one can choose to live at home, not receive treatment, and not be in hospice--at least, for most of the course of the disease. That is what my sister-in-law did. She chose to die naturally and not fight nature, in part because she had no insurance (and did not want to rack up major debt for her husband or jeopardize their life savings and house) and in as much part due to her religious beliefs. She did go on hospice during the last six weeks of her life; she needed medical attention, and the hospital, to which she was ambulanced, moved her to in-patient hospice as a compromise. She was placed in a very nice New Hampshire hospice, Hyder Family Hospice House , known simply as Hyder House. Not all hospices are this attentive, gentle with the family, well-appointed in interior ambience and amenities, or surrounded by such beautiful landsca

  Murjan went over the rainbow bridge tonight after a valiant three years of fighting lymphoma and with such indomitable spirit that even on Sunday, after his hydration, he jumped down from the chair he was on, certain that he still had the springing power that he has always had. But he fell and landed on his side. Clearly, he hours were numbered.  His last days and hours were so typical of cancer patients. (Check the MSI Press website in a few weeks; there are plans for a cancer resource page for people and animals -- those questions that one can never find an answer to in spite of how much time you spend on Google; the tentative page name is Carlr's Cancer Compendium. And check out the book on cancer by Sula, Parish Cat at Old Mission ) First, the chemotherapy stopped working. Then Murjan lost interest in food, then in drink -- and then his spirit left his body. Just like his owner, MSI Press graphic designer, Carl Leaver, a month earlier. Murjan was born in Jordan and moved to S

As with Carl, many people have "signs" of cancer that can be interpreted either as something else quite mild or dismissed entirely as just a bad day or maybe I ate something bad yesterday. Otherwise quite healthy people simply ignore them as an annoyance. (Before cancer, Carl was sick just one day in his life -- 50 years earlier he threw up, once, on the lawn, from unsuspectingly drinking stagnant water the day while carrying out his Forest Service employee duties, Seriously. Never again did he ever throw up even after three rounds of chemotherapy, but he died, healthy, from cancer!)  This is the insidious nature of cancer. Often, you just do not know you have it because the signs are so innocuous until it has taken over your body and is in the winner's circle -- and you have an incredibly difficult battle to get your body back -- and many people lose that battle every single day. This is especially true of "toilet information." Change in bowel movement is prett

  Looking back on Carl's cancer, our cats' cancers, and cancers among friends and family, we should have seen the signs, which would have led to better decisions and, likely, better outcomes. But they were small changes, slow changes that we got used to gradually without thinking back to what things used to be like.  One day, Carl forgot where the brake on the car was and pushed the gas pedal instead. Scary! Could happen to anyone, right? That was a few months before his late stage 4 metastatic cancer diagnosis, with hypercalcemia (which really messes up the brain). A small sign, but we missed it. His growing tendence to leave dishes to do until the next morning of plants to water the next day. Lazy, right? That started maybe a year out before the cancer diagnosis, likely about the time his organs were being attacked and overwhelming his immune system -- and likely his energy. A small sign, but we missed it. There were more. If we even noticed them, we dismissed them all as  ag