Bulldozer00's Blog

I finally got the tattoo I really wanted. I’ve been walking around saying “I’m sooo (fucking) lucky” for years now, especially when I see someone I know get sick and die AFTER my macabre cancer diagnosis. There have been many of them: a dear nephew, a cousin, his wife, my dad, and my aunt. The number of famous people who got sick and died after my diagnosis are in the dozens.

On February 16, 2016, I was told by a Thoracic Surgeon I had stage 3 non-small cell lung cancer. He walked me through a series of chilling CT scan slices showing 4 tumors in my right lung. One big white honker that looked like a wasp’s nest weighing in at 5.3 cm long was staring and laughing at me from the scrolling display. The Emperor Of All Maladies (EOAM) unmasked himself to me. The horned fuck-face himself whispered “you’re mine now, moo hah hah hah!”

After:

1) a series of 6 hardcore “mustard gas” chemo treatments, fondly referred to as systemic carpet bombing,

2) a series of 30 radiation treatments,

3) a targeted pill (Gilotrif) that didn’t work,

4) metastasis of 4 new tumors in my warped noggin’ (which were radiated back into hell),

I tried the new immunotherapy drug from Bristol-Meyers Squibb called Opdivo (Nivolimab). I’ve been pretty much cruising with a monthly half-hour infusion of my chemical savior since then. Oh, except for brain surgery last May to excise 2 non-tumor radiation growths in my brain where 2 original tumors were entrenched.

I finally had to stop my beloved Opdivo in July because it jacked my immune system so high I literally started attacking myself 😂. It’s a well known side effect that immunotherapy drugs can attack any part of the body at any time during or after treatment. Thus, “I” attacked my lungs via inflammation that made breathing so difficult I had to go to the ER. It got so bad that all I could think about moment to moment was getting enough air into my lungs to nourish my tissues with life giving oxygen.

At first the doctors thought it was the flu, then pneumonia, and finally, the dreaded pneumonitis. After being put on oxygen and a high dose of prednisone steroids for a month, I recovered. After weaning for 2 weeks off of the roids, it came raging back and it felt like I was suffocating myself again. Thus, I’m on roids yet again and I have 3 pulmonologists working for me. I’m tapering off the roids again and we’ll see what’s next. The scary thing is I’m not under any cancer treatments anymore. The Emperor has an opening to come after me now. Bring it on Jerkface.

I’m deeply grateful to my Opdivo guardian for helping me become fucking lucky, soooo fucking lucky.