We continue to play the waiting game. As of now, results are still not back from the genetic testing of my cancer, and the immunotherapy clinical trial that I'm hoping to join remains on hold. 

We did get one bright spot in the waiting. Last week, I received word from my genetic counselor about the results of my genetic testing (different from the genetic testing of my cancer to see what targeted therapy trials I may be eligible for). MD Anderson conducted tests of seven specific genes known to increase the risk of gastric and related cancers, and all of my genes were normal. This means that I most likely developed gastric cancer by chance, and more importantly, this means that my beautiful children are not at any increased risk for cancer due to their genes. This was a huge weight off of our shoulders to know that there is no possibility I could pass genes on to Matthew or Raegann that would increase their chances of gastric or related cancers early in their lives.

Last week, I was fighting a bad cold, so my normally "good" days during the cycle were spent trying to get over a nasty cough and the fatigue that comes with illness. Thankfully, by Wednesday, I was nearly back to normal, just in time to spend most of the day in the clinic receiving chemo round 12. Each round seems to get a little bit harder, and the symptoms last a little bit longer, as the toxic chemicals used to fight my tumors take their toll on my immune system and the remaining healthy parts of my body. This round was no exception. I was able to teach my classes on Thursday morning, but spent the rest of the day sleeping. Friday was spent sleeping as well, and although I was up for a good bit on Saturday, I didn't really have any energy, and still napped for a large portion of the day. By Sunday (today) I was able to stay awake for most of the day, but my strength was still gone.

One of the common questions I get asked, especially by my students, is "What's chemo like?" I certainly can't speak for everyone who has been through chemo; there are a lot of different chemo regimens, and everyone reacts differently to the various drugs. I can say that my experience has been similar to that of Westley in one of my favorite movies of all time, The Princess Bride:

Chemo, like The Machine, feels like it is stealing your life away. You receive an infusion, and the next 4-5 days of your life are spent in agony, nauseated, completely drained of all strength and energy. Although I am without a Miracle Max who can bring me back from being "mostly dead," my wonderful wife and partner in life does a miraculous job each round bringing me out of the pit of despair and getting me ready to "storm the castle" with my students the following week. I am so thankful to have a spouse who loves me so much and demonstrates that love to me every single day.

Unless results come in sooner than expected from the genetic testing of my cancer, or the clinical trial reopens, my next appointment at MD Anderson will be on October 6-7. I am scheduled for CT scans and blood work on the 6th to see how the cancer is progressing, and for follow-up with my oncologist on the 7th.

As we continue to wait, our prayer requests remain the same as last time:

• For continued effectiveness of the Oxaliplatin and 5FU at keeping my cancer at bay.
• For sooner-rather-than-later results of the gene testing of my cancer.
• For a second-line treatment that will be uncommonly effective at fighting my cancer.
• For patience and peace as we wait.