One year ago in January of 2007, I wrote with much excitement and enthusiasm that my "battle" with cancer had taken a new turn.   The clouds had cleared and the horizon looked brighter than it ever had.   This new horizon was the landscape that I yearned to paint.   It was a landscape chock-full of bold, brilliant, and magnificent colors primed to transport me out of my black and white world.   The cancer in my body was deemed undetectable.   It was truly a miracle.   I had taken the cancer which was considered lethal within its first 6 months and somehow with sound medical advice, bold aggressive chemotherapy, and the unconditional love of friends and family, seemingly walked away from it.   I was living breathing proof that the fight was not lost.   It was a stunning event and a spectacular victory.   Of course we did not throw caution to the wind as this had proved to be a viable foe.   Charlie and I continued to fight the fight.   The next 6 month I continued to undergo chemotherapy to rid my body of as much "undetectable" cancer as I could.   Eight months after my diagnosis of remission, I had my ports removed and for the first time in a year and one half, I did not have a chemo treatment.   I could take a shower without worrying about protecting my 3 ports with plastic bags and tape, I could begin to lose the 30+ pounds I gained from the chemo and steroid cocktail, and I could work out in the gym without people wondering why I would have such an incredibly large and unsightly piercing covering half my chest.   I diligently followed the doctor’s regimen of herbs and supplements which were recommended by specialists at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center and were known to have proven benefits.   I worked out daily.   I had acupuncture to help ease the side-effects of chemo.   Charlie made music, I painted, and we traveled.   Free of cancer really meant freedom to live our lives as before.

As is true so many times during my cancer battle, exuberance and tears of joy are usually followed by angst and tears of sadness which are lurking never too far in the distance.   We soon learned that my one month break from chemo gave the enemy time to regroup, exert new force and take up the battle on new frontiers.   The cancer had not only come back, but had grown and had spread.   There were now new tumors in my liver living beside the older ones.   They once again stood their ground where they had previously been overpowered.   The tumor which surrounded my heart and wrapped around my coronary artery also regained new energy and vigor.   The newest brawl is now being fought in my lungs.   Our latest report last week shows that in spite of my new chemo treatments, the conflict is far from over.   This cancer is like a bad weed.   We keep whacking away at the leaves and stems, but the roots are deep and aggressive.   There is a cure out there for me; it’s just in the future, but it is within my grasp, and it’s a future that I can live with and hope we will all share together.

I have been taking Sorafenib, an oral chemo agent.   I swallow two pills daily and have been seen by the doctors in NY every two weeks.   Today is day number 117 on oral chemo.   We found out last Monday that in spite of our best efforts, the skirmish rages on.   The cancer continues to grow on all fronts.   As you know, Charlie and I do not let moss grow under our feet.   Upon hearing the news, we put plan B into action which had been on the back burner for 4 weeks.   It was now time to implement it.   We met with Dr. Maki at MSKCC on Friday morning.   Due to the increase growths, I no longer qualify for the study.   Bayer, the manufacturer of the chemo has an outreach program allowing patients to receive the drug "off study".   In light of this, we are planning on continuing the chemo indefinitely.   In addition to the chemo, three more agents will be added to my drug mixture.   One is Sirolimus (Rapamune).   It is a drug used in transplant patients.   It suppresses the immune system to prevent rejection of the transplanted organs.   Apparently transplant patients tend to develop many unusual cancers and sarcomas, not unlike the sarcoma I have.   When used in small doses, Rapamune has the ability in some patients to wipe out the cancer.   This is our goal.   Due to the nature of this immunosuppressant drug, I also have been prescribed Acyclovir, an anti-viral and Trimethoprim Sulfamethoszole, an antibiotic.

Not being on the study, will give us the freedom to winter in warmer climates.   As I write, we are relaxing in Costa Rica.   Although we have been traveling quite a bit in the last year . . . most of our travel takes us to New York for doctor appointments.   This time, free from the constrictions and the protocol of the study, we no longer need to be in NY every two weeks.   Instead, my next visit to NY will be in eight weeks.   We will stay put in Costa Rica and enjoy our surroundings.   We will fill our souls with art and music, watch the hummingbirds flitter about in the morning, gaze at the swarms of dragonflies above our heads and feel once again what it is like to be among the living.   I can watch my hair slowly grow in, only to fall out again when the winds pick up.   To me, things like hair no longer matter, for I am a member of Prima Sarita’s Club.   I am a member of the Survivor’s Club.

We will raise our glasses and toast to you at sunset.

All our love,

Randy and Charlie