Friends and Family,

On April 11, Genevieve and I got the results of my first scan since starting this new clinical trial two months ago. I’m breathing easier and coughing less, so it was a massive relief but no surprise when we got great results! Many of my spots are stable, and many have shrunk a bunch. I no longer have enough spots to film a new 101 Dalmatians movie inside my chest.

 

This is my third clinical trial, and my second one that has been successful. I would have died eight years ago without clinical trials. In fact, every survivor that I know of who has lived for at least ten years with lung cancer has been in at least one clinical trial, and some have been in five or six. This is my encouragement to all of you who haven’t considered clinical trials before. I hope you ask lots of questions and give it some thought. You might just live longer.

Every treatment stops working at some point, so the challenge is to have options when that time comes. My oncologist (Rachel Sanborn), whom we adore, is as proactive as we are. We jointly agreed that it made sense for me to get established in Denver at University of Colorado, where I almost ended up before Dr. Sanborn pulled a local trial out of her hat at the last minute. UC runs a lot of trials at once, so it’s a great place to consider. I tried for weeks to get UC to let me meet via Zoom to review and sign their Informed Consent, which had to be done before they could test my leftover biopsy tissue for their trials. Red tape won out in the end, so Genevieve and I flew to Denver to get established in their system. With that step out of the way, they are testing my biopsy tissue. This will save about six weeks (!) when the need for a new trial arises. Since for some people, like me, cancer tends to go wild once it finds a way around the current treatment, the ability to get into a new trial quickly could prevent the cancer from spreading much further. Never mind that I may not go there if something better comes up — my safety net is in place.

For many years I have felt like a frog that jumps from lily pad to lily pad, just as the one I am on starts to sink. The trick is to buy as much time on that lily pad as you can and have another one ready for that next leap. It’s what keeps me from croaking!

Here’s hoping every year is a possible Leap Year for you.

Love,

Dann

This post originally appeared  April 12, 2023, on Dann’s Cancer Chronicles. It is republished with permission.