Zach & Zelda

Zach : I’m having a bad day. And you being all cheerful isn’t helping. Zelda : Being positive isn’t helpful? Zach : No. It’s not. Zelda : 'K. I’ll tone it down. Zach : I just want to be left alone and wallow in self-pity. Zelda : Hello friends. Today I’m putting my energy into giving you an update, and giving Zack room to feel what he wants to feel. That seems like the most graceful thing to do. Grace is on my mind, ‘cause I want to bring more grace to how I handle things with Zach. Sometimes it’s a fine line between being there, or being supportive, and giving a person the space they need to feel angry or frustrated, or just figure things out on their own.  God, if you’re listening, help me find the grace it takes to walk that fine line. I feel like we’re in a grace period right now. Zach is 4 weeks out from foot surgery and 2 weeks out from hernia-repair surgery. Recovery has been painful, but he’s improving. This week, he also had another PET scan and blood draw to find out how ...

Hello friends. Zelda here. I’ll be giving the update this time because Zach is feeling frustrated, and rightly so. He’s been through a lot in the past year. And most of what spews out of his mouth these days isn’t fit to print—it doesn’t match the Zach I know and love. Basically, he’s in a crappy mood and we just need to let him chill. He’ll work it out. He always does. And I do want to fill you in on his Pluvicto treatments. So here goes. When Zach got his first Pluvicto injection, the medical team warned us we might see a spike or “flare” in his PSA (prostate stimulating antigen) numbers. They told us the flare would be a good sign, because it means the cancer cells are dying and being expelled into his bloodstream. But when Zach got his bloodwork before the second injection, his numbers were flat. No flare. The good news: His blood-cell counts and metabolics were all strong. So Zach went ahead and got Pluvicto #2.  It takes a couple hours for us to drive to the hospital, and the...

Weeks since last serious fall: 10 Weeks since last chemo: 25 Zach : Oh, man… Zelda : What, man? Zach : This is soooo fucking good ! Zelda : [ Zach Isn't talking about his dinner (which, by the way, he didn't finish again tonight). He had cooked an amazing fajita stir fry with peppers, onions, and steak. But by the time it was on the plates, it didn’t sound good to him anymore. He said he wasn’t hungry — ”not even a little bit." And then, an hour later, he is sitting next to me on the couch, in front of TV, with a full half gallon of Dryers French Vanilla and a spoon.]  Zelda : I thought you weren’t hungry. Zach : I’m not. But this is sooo good.  Zelda : So you like the ice cream? Zach : [Close to tears] This is The Best Fucking Ice Cream I’ve ever had in my life . I just want to keep eating little spoonfuls of it. [Takes another tiny scoop and closes his eyes.] Zelda : That’s amazing! I haven’t seen you this happy with food in a year. We’ll get you all the ice cream you...

Zelda : Zach recently started letting people know about his diagnosis. It began with low-stakes conversations, and sometimes offhand remarks, with folks we don’t know well or don't socialize with often. He told a neighbor, then another. He even mentioned it to a clerk when we were checking out at the grocery store. I felt like he was testing the waters; trying different ways to share the news, comparing reactions, and maybe building up his courage to tell his family. I had theories about why Zach didn’t want to tell anyone: If he did, it would be like giving in to cancer: Admitting he had this problem no one could solve. Or worse, opening himself up to pity, or people telling him what they thought he should do. Zach has always hated being told what to do. At the same time, I knew he was tired of hiding the diagnosis from his mom—telling her everything was fine, when clearly, it was not. He wasn’t exactly lying, but it was a charade, and it was getting harder to keep up the performa...

Months since last chemo infusion: 4 Weeks since first Pluvicto treatment: 4 Days since last serious fall: 17 Zelda : You had your first Pluvicto treatment a few weeks ago.* Zach : Yup. Zelda: Wanna tell folks about it? Zach : Why not. It’s the last thing to try —the last option .  Zelda : The last option right now .  Zach : Whatever. It might buy a little time, according to the TV commercial. Zelda : They're advertising on TV? Zach : Yeah. I guess the market for this stuff is bigger than we thought. Anyway, the commercial has a guy playing golf, and the narrator says Pluvicto helps “you be you for longer.” Zelda : Does that mean you have to take up golf? Zach : Now you’re getting it. You know, people who golf don’t actually live longer. It just seems like it. Because: They’re golfing .  Zelda : Ha ha!! So what was the actual treatment like for you? Zach : Easier than chemo. Zelda : I hope so. Anything surprise you? Zach : How friendly everyone was. Especially the nurse ...