Thank you to all those 'out there' that are obviously still reading this blog and travelling with us. We know this must be the case because so many of you have lovingly inquired about the results of Sue's recent bone scans.

The short answer is "They were all clear. There is currently no evidence of any abnormality in the bones".  If that is all you want to know, you may stop reading now!  If you want a bit more detail about this and other things, read on!!

On Monday we went back to see (our friend and) the diagnosing physician/surgeon Prof Phill Carson for the first time since 'that fateful day last July'. On calling us into his room he gave Sue a big hug (I don't imagine he does that to ALL his patients) and commented, with no small measure of surprise and joy, about how well she looked. He actually said that Sue looked healthier than me and I was looking a bit pale and wan!

Phill's summary was that Sue's response to the chemotherapy was as good as it could possibly be, and the recent CT scans showed drastically reduced evidence of the primary tumor in the bowel, almost disappearance of the liver lesion, and remarkable reduction of effect in various of the previously affected lymph nodes. He actually scrolled through the images of the first CT scan and the most recent one and pointed out the significant differences. Unfortunately, to the untrained eye, things looked much the same in both, so our response to statements like "See how that grey bit there (apparently the tumor) is smaller/different to this grey bit here (apparently also the tumor?)" could only be "We are happy to take your word for it!".

What did become very clear to us is that at the time of diagnosis there was more activity and impact in Sue's lymphatic system that we had realized and that Phill was not especially hopeful of the prognosis at that time - thinking that 'months rather than years' was most likely. He commented that the progressive improvements in chemotherapy regimes over the years were profound. He mused that in years past someone presenting with Sue's symptoms and stage of the metastis would have been told that there was essentially nothing that could be done to slow the march of the disease. Present day chemotherapy is becoming a much more formidable weapon in the treatment of cancers.

Phill's updated prognosis is that we can be pretty confident that Sue will enjoy Christmas 2014, possibly in continued reasonably good health. He went on to say that now that the chemotherapy has stopped, and assuming that the cancer remains in a suppressed state (which it is likely to do, at least for a while), Sue can expect her sense of wellness to improve and potentially come back toward "80% or so of her pre-cancer condition". 

Some may call this 'amazing'; others 'miraculous'. Some may attribute it to 'modern medicine'; others to 'prayer'. Sue and I see it as all of these things in no particular priority order and with no particular weighting.

The bottom line is that we are feeling blessed, graced and deeply thankful. Strangely, this good news is also requiring some adjustment to the parameters and assumptions in our thinking and future planning. It may be that we have more time up our sleeves than we had imagined, and that Sue may have a longer period of relative well-being ahead of her than we had assumed. We certainly do not want to squander either! Then again, it is not impossible for things to begin to go pear-shaped 'anytime'. Gotta love a life of uncertainty!

Sue is booked in for a further colonoscopy next month, following which we will need to make a decision about the option of an operation that would, if successful, serve to improve Sue's quality of life (but not length) once she reaches the 'end stages' of the disease.  Stay tuned for more on that a bit later.

Well, that's the story so far. Thanks for asking....