Back to me...

After Katie and Luke hogging the recent headlines (Daniela, Laura and Frank are doing fine, too) it's time to come back to me!

I have been so well this year. I was especially delighted to be well the whole time I was in Australia - the last few days that I forgot to report on, finishing up with a few talks in Sydney, were equally great. I particularly enjoyed the first run of a new session I called "Difficult conversations" - I've had a few of them this past 14 months! I've been running more, swimming and looking to enter a triathlon or two (short ones) maybe in September. We've got a holiday planned for all six of us to be together, modified slightly because Luke isn't allowed in pressurised aircraft cabins yet. I've been doing more work - such that people at O'Byrne and Kennedy actually recognise me again now! Also, and I only realised this in retrospect, people were starting to treat me like an ordinary person again, by which I mean the sympathetic look and tone of voice was definitely abating. I mean no criticism of anyone here; but I now realise the three weeks in Oz was a watershed - an end to the days of being a chemo patient and a fresh start to life as normal.

I know by now that many of you will share in our delight in all this, and I am flattered that it cheers you up, too. Hold that happy feeling, because I have some news.

Not good news. But I have always said I'd tell you like it is, so if you only like good news, look away now.

I had a scan two weeks ago and have now had confirmed that the tumour in my adrenal gland has grown over the 12 weeks since the previous one. Doubled, in fact, so it is now 9.5cm x 10.0cm. One particular lesion in my liver has also more than doubled to 3.9cm x 1.5cm. This is especially surprising as I have felt perfectly well, look well and have been symptom-free. The big tumour has extended into my spleen and into the top of my left kidney and I'm starting to feel some pain in my back again.

I knew from my early researches last May that starting off ("presenting" as the medics have it) with a large tumour that has already metastised meant that five-year survival was unlikely. But I did hope for a bit longer without progression, because that does nothing to improve the odds. Anyway, I'm adjusted to it now and looking forward to the new treatment - mostly because it's not chemotherapy and has almost no side-effects! It's a so-called targeted therapy a monoclonal antibody, similar to Herceptin for breast cancer. As I understand it, these clever things are developed to attack just cells that look like the particular cancer cells. My sarcoma ones look like certain insulin growth receptor (IGF-1R) cells and they have a new enemy CP-751,871 - so new it doesn't even have a proper name yet. So I am in a Phase I trial which means it's an unproven remedy, I start next Wednesday 30 July, I think, and I will be monitored very closely every two weeks that I go for the outpatient treatment.

I remain well, quite fit and upbeat and I hope the trial drug stabilises or even reduces my cancer. (But if I owe you money or a favour I suggest you remind me about it soon.)

Keep smiling and grabbing each day!

Paul