Peg Kerr's Journal

Rob's PET scan yesterday was good enough to allow him to continue with his clinical trial. See the details at his CaringBridge.

We finally caught up with Rob's oncologist who interpreted the PET scan from two weeks ago for us. Rob has put on a waiting list for a new clinical study. He may get called to go in for tests sometime in the next 2-8 weeks. He would be a good candidate, but he may be ineligible because of his participation in an earlier study. Read more at our CaringBridge post.

PET scan: liver glow GONE. Spleen glow GONE. Central glow deep in the abdomen (this is the one that really worried the doctor last time) GONE. Neck glow GONE. Slight glimmer on back of head remains, but no bigger than last time. New slight glimmer at tip of stomach: may be simply inflammation. Blood work looks perfect.

Our doctor said, "This is an enormous response. Marked improvement. Everyone's happy. Take the weekend to celebrate."

So...yeah. Thanks to Mayo! Thanks to our doctor. Rob's not ENTIRELY in remission, but he's pretty damn close. Which is absolutely amazing!

(I sent the girls Snapchats all day about "Our Day at Mayo" and took screen shots of most of them).

( Our Day at Mayo )

Rob and I just came back from Rochester. We have a mixed report. New spots on his liver and spleen. Are they tumors or inflammation? We don't know. The one deep in his body is probably a tumor, as it's right at the site of the tumor that started it all, which had apparently been eliminated by radiation in early 2015. One glowy bit from the last PET scan is gone. The doctor has decided the best thing is just to stay the course for now.

Read the rest on our CaringBridge post here.

I am so goddamned tired of all the uncertainty.

We are back from a two day stay at Mayo. The latest PET scan and biopsy gave us good news, and we've learned some more about how truly fortunate Rob has been. You may read more at the CaringBridge link here.

Week 17: Biopsy
After the second of two biopsies, Rob hovers at the brink of awakening.



I took a picture of Rob right right before he awoke from the anesthesia, after a double bone marrow biopsy. Something about his posture, the angle of his face, the lighting (and the suffering of which he never complains)...something made me think of religious iconography. (Which would certainly bemuse Rob, as he is an agnostic.) A saint in a religious trance or something. Religious ecstacy.

That impression and that word, 'ecstacy' triggered a memory of an image I'd had stashed in my soulcollaging cache of images, "The Ecstasy of St. Teresa," a central sculptural group in white marble set in an elevated aedicule in the Cornaro Chapel, Santa Maria della Vittoria, Rome (google it to see). I flipped that image and scaled Rob's down to fit in with it. Note the angel holds an arrow, indicative of the sharp point just used to do the biopsy. It pleases me that the arrow is pointed at the site of the cancer.

Week 18: Yule
Light a candle, sing a song.



There is a Peter Mayer song about the winter solstice called "The Longest Night." ( Here are the lyrics )

I've always loved that song, especially given that I'm vulnerable to Seasonal Affective Disorder. This card is trying to juxtapose the thoughts of this song with Christmas (the wreath) and Solstice (the diamond candle), which fell during the same week. "Yule" is a concept that would encompass both of them.

Although I like the concept, the card just didn't turn out to have as much impact as I'd hoped. Just not vivid enough or something.

Week 19: Hogmanay
The year comes to an end.



THIS card, on the other hand, turned out SPLENDIDLY. I had a great deal of difficulty, however, managing a decent scan of the card, because it is difficult for scans to capture the way it glitters. It's much more scintillatingly impressive when you hold it in your hand than I can convey here. "Hogmanay" is an old Scottish word referring to New Year's Eve (and I resorted to it because I'm limiting the titles of these cards to one word, and "Newyear' just didn't look right to me). The monks are a reference to the poem I wrote and posted earlier about our trip to Mayo Clinic the day before New Year's Eve, and the silver light and the glittering spindrift was made from nail polish. The very same nail polish, as a matter of fact, that I used in my New Year's Eve manicure. I think they captured the sense of the 'icy spindrift' (and the cones of silver light) extremely well!

And the Chinese fortune was from the fortune cookie I opened on New Year's Eve. My family has been gathering together and eating Chinese every single New Year's Eve for years. Perhaps this fortune was a wry commentary on the job hunting process.

I fell asleep in the chair in the room where Rob was getting his infusion. Woke up hard after an hour with a series of cross and sleepy kitten noises, and Siri, on my iPod Touch, responded by telling me, "I'm sorry. I don't know what you're telling me."

Rob's last PET scan was suspicious, and the most recent one, taken this month, was worse. Our doctors did a biopsy, and we received the results today. Rob's cancer has indeed come out of remission, although at least it hasn't reached his bones yet. He is starting an immunatherapy trial at Mayo Clinic next week. Read the details here at our CaringBridge site.

We had waited until tonight to share the news with the girls that the last PET scan was bad because we wanted them to get through their finals first. Finals are over, however, and they have both been told.

I made this card last week, but I've not posted it until now as we wanted to talk with the girls to let them know that Rob had come out of remission before writing the CaringBridge post and informing DW, LJ, Facebook, etc.

This is what it felt like.

Week 5: Anvil
It just feels like getting clobbered out of the clear blue sky.



By the way, we've had the results of the biopsy tests back. The lump was cancerous (to NOBODY'S surprise). The oncologist, however, is content to wait until Rob has his next follow up in November--although we should call to get in right away if we see anything else suspicious, of course.

I suppose they don't want to give the poor guy a PET scan too often if they can help it.

Had a follow up visit at Mayo today. Today's PET scan was perfectly clean, and the surgical wound is so well healed that we don't need to dress it or cover it any more. The total remission continues to hold strong. Yay! Only disappointment is that the genetic report on the tumor still isn't ready (way overdue). Next follow up is in November.

Read the rest at our CaringBridge here.