Apr 24, and then there were 3

Stents that is
Today was angiogram day, and since the right coronary artery was 80% narrowed, it scored a stent. To go along with the 2 from January 2024. I'm not real happy as it means anticoagulation again, but hopefully now we can remove unstable heart disease as a variable excluding me from the drug trials for some actual cancer treatment. Oh, on that note, I have an appointment at the Alfred May 8 with their clinical trials team. I hope to be there with bells and pointy shoes. 
I have a riddle: 
what's worse than an open backed hospital gown?
a badly fitting open backed hospital gown worn without any underwear. 
I will leave you with that mental image.
It was necessary because I had to have my groin shaved and exposed in preparation for the angiogram (but fortunately they ended up using only the radial (wrist) artery) 
I made sure I was well covered while being wheeled on the trolley from the operating area to the ward (holding that blanket down for dear life) However, sliding across from the trolley to the ward bed, with IV and ECG leads connected, monitors beeping and cords tangling, while unable to use my right hand, well sorry, there was a lot of flashing...Of course my bed was right next to floor to ceiling windows, just above the street, which normally I would enjoy, but I have no idea how many poor people I mooned going about their business along Wattletree Rd. Sorry about that. 
I might leave it there because I'm a bit knackered and I need to rest my wrist. Home tomorrow if I behave and don't become the phantom flasher...

Apr 16 - steps back & forth, let's dance

Today I had a consult with a lovely clinical trials oncologist, Dr Bhave. I learnt a lot of things, like exactly how experimental phase 1 trials really are (animal testing has been done, these are at the first stage of human testing to determine side effect profile and efficacy) The one proposed for me is an antibody-chemo complex, designed to bind to a specific antibody receptor on the tumour cell and then 👊"BAM!" chemo gets delivered directly to the cancer cell. Voila! Suffer in your jocks you prick of a thing.
Except, not so fast...my tumour is so rare no one knows if it even has the right antibody receptor to target. All they can say is that the receptor in question is common in solid gastrointestinal tract tumours...It's a long shot, but what choice do I have? I would be like the 27th person on the planet to get this drug. Ah, what we do for our 5 minutes of Fame.
The protocol is quite demanding, blood tests every few hours initially (pharmacokinetic studies) then every couple days and ECG and CT at commencement and 6 weekly. Repeat every 6 weeks. Doing my bit for science.
 
But here's the frustrating part - in order to qualify for the drug trial, I have to have stable angina, otherwise they cant tell if the drug makes it worse. Given how inconsistent and atypical my chest pains are, this needs sorting. I was relieved to learn there is a lesion in my T5 vertebra on the last scan, which might explain it (the radiologists don't think its metastasis, but given they didn't think I had a tumour in the first place, forgive me for not putting a whole lot of credence on that opinion) Well, calling it relief is relative, at least I have an alternative explanation (referred pain) for what I am feeling, rather than angina being the only candidate.
So, I am now waiting for another angiogram, hopefully soon, and we'll see what happens...If that's clear, then maybe I can go on the drug trial, if a spot remains open (yeah, that's a thing, apparently there's only small windows of time during which they recruit suckers, I mean volunteers, for the drug trials)
 
But wait, there's more...you would think that drug trials would be co-ordinated, like in a general database of all available trials, no matter who is running them. 
Nope. Nope. Nope. 
Each hospital runs its own show, with their own set of trials and collaborations. I was advised to make appointments at Alfred, Peter Mac, Monash, maybe Austin to get onto any of their clinical trials. Individually. 
Each has their own set of testing criteria. I laugh because this suddenly escalated into a full time job. Well, something to keep me occupied and out of trouble! But seriously, they dont talk to each other? What is this? 1974? I would get onto a drug that is good for me only by pure fluke alone, by "guessing" the correct hospital. Seriously? With my luck?
Surely it can't be that hard to centralise and merge databases. Can it? 
 
(update 22 Apr
turns out there is a database, thanks Alfred Hospital for sending it to me
curious why I was led to believe otherwise, misinformation by omission I suspect. I may have to prepare some respectful comments to make at my next consult)

Apr 03 - another liver biopsy

stained glass artwork seen from my ward window

Home away from home. Cabrini. Here yet again. I calculate I've been here over 70 times during the last few months. Chemotherapy, radiotherapy, exercise group, blood tests, consults, imaging, admissions...actually it's probably more. 
Anyway, today was liver biopsy, take 2. Upon arrival, yes, OK, yet another drip - like I pointed out, pretty well every time I come near the place someone shoves a needle in me. It's ho-hum now. Off to radiology...heart beating, anticipation, ready to flee.
The nurses had clearly taken Soothing Skills 101 and 102. Did a great job. Then I asked the doctor, who looked a bit young, if he'd done this before (cringe) He smiled and told me he worked at the Austin Liver Unit (the biggest liver unit in the state, they do most of the transplants there) I felt like a bit of a dick.
This procedure was so much smoother than last time. Completely different vibe. Firstly, they could see enough to proceed on ultrasound alone. Secondly, since I was to stay overnight, they sedated me (oh dear Lord, hooray) I was all smiley. The local anaesthetic stung of course, but there was no harpoon gun this time, just a gentle slide of the biopsy needle. Suddenly "we're done now" Like what? When? Why didn't I try bolt out the door? Why didn't I scream? Or cry? Why am I thanking everyone and holding the nurses hands? What planet is this? Not painful. Tears of joy. (Oh thank goodness, I did cry, thought I was losing my touch for a minute there)
So now I'm up on the ward, a little more sober. Have to get through the day and night without hemorrhaging (ok, I got this, maybe) then off home. The wait begins - did we get enough tissue this time? Will any useful genetic vectors of attack be found? The universe will give it's verdict one way or another... Let's hope I've finished offending the Gods.
My next big date is April 16, clinical trials presentation day. Something to look forward to?