Damn.

I think today qualifies as really bad.  Even without cancer, it wouldn't have been a good day - I woke up with my face feeling puffy and uncomfortable and some dimwit in a pickup ran into me while I was on my bike -  but cancer definitely pushed it over the edge to really bad.

I got the call from my doctor this evening.  He explained that my number had gone up.  Yeah, that's right, it went up and it was supposed to go down. 

Let's review.  The numbers we're talking about are my Alpha Fetaprotein (AFP) count.  It's a tumor marker, a protein produced by the kind of cancerous cells that developed in my body.  Before surgery it was 6,620.  It's been going steadily downward since then, roughly in an exponential decay pattern.  Three weeks ago it was 14.6.  The goal was 8.4 or below.  In the blood draw from yesterday it was 22.  Damn cancer. 

Not only is Grazelda not gone yet, she's growing (or there's a lab error).  So what's left has probably developed a resistance to the hardcore chemo drugs I've been on.  Not only would that mean more chemo, it would mean different chemo.  I mean, this regimen sucked, but at least I'm used to it.  I know what my body does when, and I'm always up and around again after a few bad days.  New drugs would mean new side effects . . .  but all that is speculation. 

First we (and by we, I mean Dr. Hallum) have to figure out what's going on, so I'll have some imaging done next week, have my blood test re-done, and go in to talk with him on Wednesday. 

I don't know which is worse - getting diagnosed with cancer, or getting told the treatment didn't quite work.  Getting diagnosed was pretty crummy and I was very afraid of chemo, but at least it meant an explanation and an end to my immediate suffering of having an ovary the size of a football tucked in my abdomen.  Right now I feel great (well, minus the kleenex and water I'm toting around tonight), and have been thinking about and anticipating moving on with my life after today, and I now know how much chemo sucks (which is a lot).  There is no silver lining (or even just a bit of silver lint laying around).  It's just bad news. 

Well, I think it's time for a little whiskey.