This might be a cancer journal, #2: The lung biopsy

Sunday, November 23

Linda K and I have an early lunch at Cafe Colucci, right at 11 when they open. The food is good, but not as perfectly cooked as usual. That seems to be useful information: the gomen is better when it cooks a long time. We talk about gomen, cole slaw, and treats that aren't sweet (like fat bombs).

 

Monday, November 24

We make cole slaw. Linda shows me how to use my mandolin, and I am so excited. I thought that thing was impossible, but I was just holding things wrong, and using the plastic food pusher too soon.I can do this! We made half with brined cabbage, and half without. The sauce still has too much of a mayo taste. But this is so much closer to what I want. I trust that we'll get it right after a few more tries.

I eat a bunch of candied ginger throughout the day to help alleviate any nausea the next day. I have taken two doses of the modified citrus pectin each day except one day it was just one.

I call three times to get my MRI set up. December 12. I also call for the osteosurgical oncologist. 

Tuesday, November 25

Q takes me to my lung biopsy appointment. I think I'm arriving on time (before 7:30), but getting through the front desk takes a few minutes, and when I arrive at the 3rd floor, they are relieved to see me, and the first nurse is feeling pressure to get back on schedule. The second nurse (B) is really nice, and I meet Dr. T in person. The anesthesiologist is kind of a jerk. But after he leaves, I ask B if he's good and she says he is. I say bad bedside manner, and she nods. But she says she would be happy to have him do the anesthesia if she needed it. She has reassured me.

They wheel me to the operating room. There are so many people there I ask if there's more than one operation happening. Nope. (Of course not.) All those people are for me. It's a robotically-assisted operation, and also requires radioactive tracer, so there are lots of people dealing with the different technical needs. One person was in what I thought of as a moon suit - a one-piece coverall that extended over the head with a clear mask in front of their face. Something about the radiation.

I think it was 8:30 when they put me under. Was it 11:30 the first time I looked at the clock after coming out of it? I was in a recovery room by then. And I was not hideously nauseated! Maybe a tiny bit. The male nurse helped me dress. He put undies, long pants, socks, and shoes on my feet, and then turned away so I could pull it all up and put my shirts on. He warns me that I'll cough up a little bit of blood from the cutting they did in my lung.

My son came in a Lyft, and escorted me home in a Lyft. I immediately ate, and then took a nap. Got up, ate again, napped again. I was so happy not be be very nauseated. 

 

Wednesday, November 26

I had lots of errands and felt a little stressed about getting them all done. I still felt pretty good otherwise. But pooping was weirdly hard and pee just leaked out a few times. I think maybe both were related to residual anesthesia in my system. I went to acupuncture, dropped some pectasol off at my friend's house, got food at Three Stone Hearth, and went to the butcher shop. I had never been there before. The Local Butcher Shop uses locally-sourced pasture-raised meat. The line was long, and it moved slowly. But the shop was fascinating, so I didn't mind. My turn, the butcher shows me the duck breast. I ask him to cut it in two, and I ask for more. Sure. But he has to go in back, bring out a whole duck, and butcher it. I got to watch. Next stop, El Cerrito Natural. The traffic is getting worse. I finally get home, and I'm starting to notice how weird my face feels. 

While i was driving, I kept touching it. Hot? Swollen? A bump near my left eye? I look in the mirror. The left side is worse than the right. The left is quite hot. At first, I think the right isn't. But when I put two fingers over the red part on the right, I can feel the heat there too. Websites are saying it's not an allergic reaction when it's that delayed. It's close to 5. Everything will be closed for days. I find a Sutter nurse number. She gets me to describe it in great detail. The only serious concern is the possibility of breathing trouble, which is not happening. She and I finally come to thinking about the mask they used during the operation. She says perhaps my skin is reacting to that. She says to wash with soap and warm water, rinse with warm, and then with cool. I do. That dries my skin out, so I put some coconut oil on it. Somewhat better.

I've been coughing up little bits of blood, not much. I keep needing to cough. I'm glad to be getting that out of me. 

The osteosurgical oncologist hasn't gotten back to me, so I call again. T says it's good I did because my previous call slipped off her work queue somehow. She says she is getting all my records to a team of physicians who will look them over. She'll call back on Monday or Tuesday to schedule me.

I feel like this was a crazy day.

I marinate the duck, and get to bed by ten. 

 

Thursday, November 27

I feel ok when I wake up, and my skin is all better, but soon after I get up I'm feeling so many pains. My muscles hurt from coughing. I think my lung hurts. I figure the anesthesia is finally wearing off. I'm trying to drink lots of water to wash it out of me.

Then my back hurts right where it does when I have a hernia episode. (I have a sliding hiatal hernia. Episodes usually last almost two weeks. It's not clear why.) The pain gets worse and worse. I finally take an oxycodone. Sometimes that can work really fast. This time it's more gradual. The pain level goes down. I sleep some, then read some.

All day, I feel crappy when up, and less crappy when lying down, sometimes fine. 

We have a minimalist Thanksgiving. The duck (so good!), and mashed potatoes and gravy from Three Stone Hearth. That's it. And that's plenty.

I go back to bed and read. I stay up late to finish the book.

 

Friday, November 28

None of the hernia-like symptoms. And when I cough it hurts less. I'm a little nauseated, so I eat more of the candied ginger. I take a nap. A biopsy does not sound like a big thing, but this has used up four whole days.

No test results yet from the biopsy. I hope to see them by Monday.

Bone biopsy still in my future. That seems like it might hurt more. But it's in an extremity, so maybe it will be easier on my body overall. I sure hope so. 

 

Saturday, November 29

Biopsy does not mean it was a little operation. This may be the most significant operation I've ever had. (I shoulda canceled our tiny Thanksgiving, so I coulda stayed home on Wednesday.) I slept well, and felt good in the morning, but I still feel weak.

I finally managed a proper poop. I guess my body has finally gotten enough of the anesthesia out to do that.

I think of all the stuff they pumped into me: anesthesia, anti-nausea, radioactive tracer, pain med (presumably, but no one said they did). I think a list of all intended meds (etc) beforehand would be a helpful addition to the process. Anyway, every time I pee or poo I'm happy to be getting more of those chemicals out of my system.

The News I'm Reading, #3

Sunday 

Against Black Women: https://fortune.com/2025/11/22/the-exit-economy-black-women-labor-force-participation-inequality/ 

Anti-women? https://www.newsweek.com/full-list-degrees-professional-trump-administration-11085695

Can this be done without China's authoritarianism? (Which the U.S. is definitely trying to emulate at this point in time.)  https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/nov/23/china-us-poverty-income-inequality?CMP=oth_b-aplnews_d-1

 

And a math thing I might want to think more about later (infinity and computers, really?) https://www.quantamagazine.org/a-new-bridge-links-the-strange-math-of-infinity-to-computer-science-20251121/?fbclid=IwY2xjawOP_PBleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBzcnRjBmFwcF9pZA80MDk5NjI2MjMwODU2MDkAAR6oCMibcmfN1_w5llVVAuhvfNWORUJhd9OkmvmPu6GBkyH3haOlpEZchR-uEQ_aem_mKFOy4pKwhFcXo3DI_lPWA 

 Howard U on Anit-Black (etc) aspects of AI: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5mtcSL4S3HQ

CRISPR unlocks a new way to defeat resistant lung cancer CRISPR disables a key resistance gene, making tough cancers vulnerable to chemotherapy again.   https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2025/11/251117095637.htm

 

Monday

https://www.reuters.com/world/us/doge-doesnt-exist-with-eight-months-left-its-charter-2025-11-23/

 

Tuesday

Rebecca Solnit, best post in a long time. https://www.meditationsinanemergency.com/revolutionary-weather-and-the-baboon-in-the-ruins/?ref=meditations-in-an-emergency-newsletter 

Sadly, Noam Chomsky (on the left) was not mentioned in this important but very incomplete analysis: https://www.democracynow.org/2025/11/25/anand_giridharadas?utm_source=Democracy+Now%21&utm_campaign=3ec0421961-Daily_Digest_COPY_01&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_fa2346a853-3ec0421961-192566082

 

Wednesday

https://www.cnn.com/2025/11/26/politics/georgia-prosecutor-drops-trump-election-interference-case

 

 

Accidental Discovery: First Entry in What Might Be a Cancer Journal

Wed, October 29: 

It's 3:30am. I wake, go pee, and get back in bed. Hmm, I still feel like I have to pee. Try to sleep, need-to-pee feeling slowly turns to pain, then more severe pain. At 5:30, I finally realize that it's most likely a kidney stone and get up to take a flowmax. Back to bed. Still pretty bad pain. (Maybe a 6 or 7? Those numbers are so weird, only that low because the hernia pain, when it's bad, is much worse than this.) Finally, around 7:30, I fall back asleep. 

When I get up, I immediately call my urologist. She is amazing and can fit me in the same day. I go first to acupuncture, then to her. They have me pee in a cup. Later, she brings that cup into the examining room and shakes it like a rattle. There are lots of tiny stones, like sand or gravel. She orders tests.

 

Tues, November 4:

I go in for the CT scan. When the results come, they have found that the kidney is fine, but there are three other weird things. Two are no big deal. But there's a nodule on my lung, and it has grown since the last CT scan. (I look later at my records and find no mention of that nodule from the previous scan. Hmm.) I read what I can online. It could be benign, but the speed of growth and irregular edges makes cancer look more likely. I tell people there's a small chance (13%, based on the size) that I have cancer. 

They order another CT scan, focused on the lung. I start making to-do lists:

• I want a naturopath on my team, like N has. (She has cancer and is writing notes to friends on that caring bridge site.) The doctors, and there are so many of them now, each look at one aspect, and mostly only think in terms of tests and drugs and surgeries.
• I want a personal cook who can help me make keto-friendly food, because cancer loves sugar and keto is all about not eating sugars (aka carbs), or at least not much. 
• I need that book I read 6 years ago, when I had uterine cancer (treated with a total hysterectomy, no radiation or chemo needed), The Metabolic Approach to Cancer. I can't find it on my shelves so I order it from the library. I can't get it right away there, so I order it from the bookstore too. 
• My friend Z suggests ordering modified citrus pectin to take as a supplement. I do that. 
• I try to get a homeopathic remedy recommended by N's naturopath, but give that up for now. 
• 'More physical activity' is on my list, but I know that's hard for me to get myself to do.

 

Sat, November 8:

I get the scan. I'm frustrated when I have to wait for results, since this lung nodule sounds like it could be a bad thing. The internet says CT scans often find benign lung nodules. (1 in 3 CT scan finds a lung nodule. Most are benign.) I just want to know. I think it's Tuesday when I finally see. They give all 3 dimensions, both currently and 21.5 months ago. I do the calculations. It is 4.8 times as big as it was previously. That a doubling time of 9.5 months. (I taught math until I retired.) My doctor orders a PET scan and a visit with a pulmonologist, in case I need a biopsy.

 

Fri, Nov 14:

The PET scan is interesting. They inject me with radioactive sugar water. The guy tells me it has flourine to make it radioactive. It's in a thick metal cylinder. He tells me it's lead, so the radiation doesn't escape. I sit there for most of an hour. I had looked it up (on reddit) and seen that some places prohibit even reading during that hour. Others allow it. I could read and the guy said I could make phone calls. I talk with Z, who says she'll join me for a meal after. When I mention that Q is coming she says she won't come then. (She loves Q, but was busy and thought I preferred one-on-one.) I begin to cry. I say, "This is so tangled. I don't want you to feel like you have to come. But I really want to see you." She says she'll come. I say, "I guess this is more stressful than I realized." I laugh. "It just took a little trigger to get me crying."

The scan is in the same machine as the two CT scans; it just takes a bit longer. Breakfast/lunch is delightful. Back home, there's a message from N. Her naturopath has recommendations for PET scans. Some things to do before (too late for me), and some after. I need to take a nap before I can think. Once I'm back up I run out to get Vitamin C and magnesium citrate. I take large doses of each.

And then my doctor calls. "The lung nodule showed minimal uptake, that's good, but we'll still want a biopsy. But something else showed up. There's a lesion in your upper left arm bone." When the scan results come the next day, the language used is that it's "avidly hypermetabolic". Not good. The only cause they think likely is metastasized cancer. The two other possibilities, bone cancer and something benign, are rare. This is when it changes from I might possibly have cancer to I probably have cancer.

Finally, a friend has a recommendation for a naturopath. I text him.  

 

Mon, November 17:

Video visit with the pulmonologist who will do the biopsy. He seems fine.

 

Tues, November 18:

The naturopath's office gets back to me in the morning. We schedule a 10 minute free phone consultation around noon. He talks with me for over half an hour. He says to wait until after I get the oncology visit to schedule an in-office appointment.

The oncologist's office calls and wants me to come at 8am. I don't want to drive in morning commute traffic, but there's nothing else. I end up taking it.

 

Wed, November 19:

I have to get up before 7am to make it to my 8am appointment with the hematology oncologist. (Hematology is blood, bone marrow, and lymph systems. Also, that drive is 12 minutes when done later in the day, but before 8am it will be much longer. The night before google says it could take 40 minutes.) In the morning google says to take the Arlington instead of the freeway, and I'll make it in 25 minutes. It's a much nicer drive than the freeway, and it takes 27 minutes. I get there a minute early, yay me.

I fill out lots of paper work. When I'm done, my doctor arrives. She explains well, asks good questions, and listens well. I like her. She shows me the second CT scan and the PET scan. She spends over an hour with me. She orders blood tests, including two cancer markers. She also refers me to a radiation specialist and an oncology osteosurgeon. 

I get the blood tests in the same office, and then drive home. A few hours later, I get a massage (at home!), by my massage friend of many years. I get a whiff of something and ask if she has put perfume on. "No, I never wear perfume. Maybe it's the sheets. My mom washed them." I'm almost in tears. Chemicals can do that to me. I ask her to put them outside. I get her some sheets of mine. While she's putting them on the massage table, I open windows, and turn on the fan. In 5 minutes it's faint enough that I can turn off the fan and close the windows. She gives me an amazing massage, and I feel great. I ride my bike later. (I got a great new bike, but I'm not in the habit yet of riding it. I'm happy to be doing that.)

 

Thurs, November 20:

Blood tests show nothing bad. Yay. 

I see my naturopath. He gets a history of all my physical issues. Toward the end he suggests that I make sure my pulmonoligist knows about my sliding hiatal hernia before doing that biopsy. I'm so grateful for that advice. It seems important, and I would not have thought of it. It was supposed to be a half hour. I think it's close to an hour. He only charges me for 45 minutes.

I pick the book up at the bookstore. I've been reading the library copy, but now I can start underlining and highlighting and dog-earing it. I thought keto was 50 grams of carbs a day or less. The book says to stay under 25 grams. Yikes. I will need to find alternatives for my toast (with eggs, egg salad, tuna salad, and chicken salad). If I can ditch that and the rice I've been eating, I might manage it.

 

Friday, November 21:

The modified citrus pectin came yesterday. I take my first dose.

I talk to M, who provides cooking services. She is interested in working with me. I'm taking her out to lunch on Sunday, so she can taste the gomen (Ethiopean collard greens) at Cafe Colucci. And then on Monday we'll make cole slaw together.

And that's today. I might not have cancer. That would be great. If I do have it, I am being proactive and planning my journey through this jungle myself. Research shows that being proactive increases the chance of positive outcomes. Good. 

 

 

 

 

The News I'm reading, #2

 https://truthout.org/articles/house-passes-resolution-condemning-socialism-ahead-of-mamdani-white-house-visit/

 

Banned from Facebook for no clear reason, I turn to writing

Facebook claims I have violated community standards. Bizarre. I repost a wide variety of posts about: how shlump and cronies are destroying any semblance of rule of law in this country, Mamdani, the other new socialist mayor, Katie Wilson of Seattle, who we've heard much less about, and plenty of other progressive topics. Why now? 

I also post personal things. Recently a PET scan showed something weird that could be cancer. I'm looking for a naturopath, along with going to doctor appointments, and trying to learn more about this, and trying to eat even healthier than I do.

 

So now I can't (for the moment) access my local Buy Nothing group, nor the other local group, nor Math Mamas, nor a bunch of other groups I'm in there. And I can't contact any friends whose email and phone info I don't have. It's not a good time for this.

They say I need to appeal. But they want me to do a video selfie to prove I'm human. Really? Sounds to me like they want to train their surveillance systems.