Two falls and a flamethrower (cancer update)

I'm a bit late with this cancer update. I've been a bit worn out and exhausted and as today I've had about sixty days of diarrhoea which really doesn't help.

Things are going tolerably well, thank you. I had a fall--two falls actually--on late Friday night and early Saturday morning about ten days ago. Neither caused any injury but seemed to be coming from side effects from the drugs.  

I was particularly surprised that in both cases it took me at least 15 minutes to get back on an even keel, after which I lay down and clung to the bed for dear life. (For various reasons no family members were close by so I couldn't raise the alarm)

 

When help was at hand my wife called the ambulance and I was admitted to the SAN hospital in Wahroonga (Sydney, Australia) for observation. 

 

Short story: all the numbers from my blood tests came down low where they should have been high: neutrophils, potassium, sodium, platelets, red blood vessels, white blood cells. Because of my lowered immunity I had somehow managed to contract norovirus and a common cold. 

 

I promised a short story did I not? Ok. Upshot: All of this is to say that I am stuck at the San at least until the medicos are happy enough with my numbers. 

 

As for the flamethrower; the cancer trial treatment that I'm on seems to have thoroughly nuked everything in my bloods and we are now in rebuilding mode, so that I can go home and get back onto the treatment.

Short visits to hospital welcome but people will need to be masked up and asymptomatic of any cold or flu. Even more welcome: prayers to the one who took our sins and all our infirmities upon himself on the cross, and now lives and reigns on the throne of grace. To him be glory and honour and power forever.

Oh and grandson Louis is doing very well indeed. The rest of the family are doing a sterling job of looking after him.

Drugs are good, m-kay? And cancer update (Cancer’s bad, ja?)

 

Dexamethasone is keeping me awake at 2.37 am, Star-date Thursday 27 August 2026, and I am loving it. Means that around the house I am cleaning things up, sweeping stuff down, returning to computer and self editing as I go. 

Give me a call , find out where I or we the family are, and come and use the toilet in the bathroom. It’s never seen better days. If you arrive at the right place there may be one toilet, or maybe three, depending on availabilty. There are dog parks with facilities close by. You don't need details. Message me at my home address, which is Facebook.

Due to overwhelming public demand (thanks Andrew Cole and many confreres) and second only to a gold Logie in importance, let me try and systematise the last eight months, done in point form to keep brain on track. 

1.     Yes, when you have Stage IV bowel cancer, it doesn’t go away, and eventually the few million cells that didn’t die will start to get the sense that they can run around and get up to shenanigans left, right, and centre.

2.     That is exactly what is happening.

3.     I would insert a Bible verse here but I invite others to contribute their own favourites.

4.     So the bowel cancer is doing what cancer is doing and is once again spreading, including an olive sized lump at the top of my right jawbone. My oncologist Stephen Clarke, who is about my age, said “I’ve never seen this in my entire career. Please stop doing unusual things.”

5.     I said OK will do.

Hmm, what next, what next.

1.     They zapped the growth at the top of the jawbone and were able to report that it hadn’t permeated through to the brain. That means that I’ve lost at least one reason for losing my train of thought, but this is good news, yes? 

2.     The tumour on the RHS jawbone has pretty much disappeared. 

3.     The cancer trial continues and so yay. There is no indication that it is not yet not working. Comprende?

May I give you two short verses that are sustaining to me. They may also be sustaining to you. Read!

1.      Paul’s letter to the Philippians says “To live is Christ, to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21)

2.      Paul also tells us that the Lord, Jesus, has prepared good works in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:10)

OK so the drugs are wearing out and I am almost ready to progress to the next stage. Which is falling asleep, or playing around on Facebook, or waiting for sunrise. Who knows? The Lord only. I follow James 1:5 at this point, and invite you to do likewise:

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. (James 1:5)

Radiotherapy, and reading print Bibles

The radiation therapy is done: Five brief and painless treatments over five days. Now, as they say with bushfire preparations, the status is 'wait and watch'. Still plenty of activity going on, including paid work looking after a dachshund and attending the funeral of a good friend who passed to glory too young, having been diagnosed almost accidentally twelve months ago. Farewell, dear brother Andrew.

With all this extra time on my hands for sleeping, I am doing just that and expect to do be doing more. In between times and as able, I keep up with family and think thoughts, including this latest on why I no longer read the Bible quite so much.

That's the cancer bit: here is the thought.

On not reading my print Bible.

Whilst many well meaning Christians with whom I agree tell me to read my Bible, I actually haven’t read a print Bible with any regularity for years. In fact, as I told one of my church friends at St Barnabas East Roseville, I’ve generally stopped reading the Bible in whatever format, at least as part of my daily diet.

These days--as I reassured (or possibly not) my nonplussed friend,  I mainly listen to the Bible–just like they did in the first century for most of their Christian lives. Is that bad? Admittedly, I generally listen on my mobile phone. It helps that I sometimes drive through Sydney traffic, a situation in which actually reading a print Bible is generally uncalled for. I'm not certain you will be prosecuted for doing so when stopped at the lights, but surely days are coming.

Related to do this I am trying to tell my completely blind father the gospel and have not suggested yet that he should try a print Bible, as much as some Christians insist this is the only way to go. However if I can get his Metaglasses working for more than six hours at a time, I will definitely put a print Bible in front of him so that he can listen to it, should he choose to do so. 

Argerich plays Bach

 

Watch and listen here:

https://youtu.be/BRBHSy4l6bM?si=BN_WGYw6b29FJQqn

Radiotherapy: First of five

 First radiotherapy yesterday. Second today. Third tomorrow. Fourth Thursday. Fifth and final, Friday.

Painless and brief ten minutes in the microwave (or whatever they call it).

No cancer news is good news, until.

Greetings all and after huge public demand, welcome to a cancer update!

Family and some friends will be aware that in the last couple of weeks, as mentioned on my Facebook page, I've had some recent cancer news. Here it is, as up-to-date as it can be as of 5 June 2026.

About six weeks ago now I noticed what looked and felt like an infected lymph node at the top of my right jawbone. Naturally I self-medicated with some old antibiotics I found in a drawer somewhere [warning and disclaimer: this is not wise and you shouldn't try this at home]. It sort of worked, and then I went to the doctor who agreed with my likely self-diagnosis and got me onto some broader spectrum antibiotics that got rid of the infection. 

However the lump at the top of the jawbone remained, and I thought that this might prove to be a job for Dr Pimple Popper. [warning, not for the fainthearted. The name should tell you enough]

Having got past the stage of self medication, wiser people than me called for an ultrasound and a biopsy. And yes, it was actually serious. This is a recurrence of the same Stage IV bowel cancer that was diagnosed back in January 2022, and has been to this point quite successfully kept under control, as you can see in earlier blog posts. And yes, the right side at the top of the jawbone is a very unusual place for it to appear. In fact my oncologist, who is close to retirement age, said he'd never seen anything like it and asked me to "stop doing unusual things".

Anyway, yada yada yada and I've seen a radiation oncologist who is now lining me up for some radiotherapy treatments in the next couple of weeks.

Since letting people know, many people have been kind enough to phone or send messages, and have been assuring me of their prayers. Thank you very much!

Several have asked for more specific information regarding how this appointment and others have gone since, so here you go:

The appointments so far

The appointments have gone well, explaining options and resulting in some decisions. The main options are radiotherapy, surgery, or possibly both over time. So I opted for radiotherapy, because there's less risk to my parotid gland and the facial nerve on the right side of my head. Facial nerve damage from surgery can end up looking like Bell's palsy.

I will get a 'Hannibal Lecter' style mask made up today in order to hold my head still while they zap the tumour. I asked if I got to keep the mask and they said yes, which means I also get the opportunity to wear it out on public transport and at church. Fun times. Don't worry niece and nephew it's your friendly Uncle Gordon. (Sorry parents)   

Then there will be five short sessions of radiotherapy spaced out over the next week or two, which will hopefully burn the worst of the tumour and leave open the possibility for some clinical trials that they would like to move me onto.

I'm mercifully free of side-effects, apart from fatigue and a bit of nausea occasionally over the last four-and-a-half years since Stage IV diagnosis, and hoping that will continue. My capacity to work has diminished, but thankfully the amount of paid work I need to do has also diminished. The lymph nodes on the right side of my head consistently feel a bit achy but hoping that will improve with treatment. Still avoiding painkillers.

I have less capacity for thinking and writing, and more capacity for sleeping on demand. Swings and roundabouts hey? Learning contentment with the limitations that God has given, and praying for the good works God has prepared in advance for me to do. (See Ephesians 2:10)

*****

Also remembering a very good friend, Andrew Donohoo, who yesterday passed to glory some six months after his initial cancer diagnosis. We saw some memorable Bob together, and God willing we will do so again.