mayo

Let me tell you, the Mayo Clinic is a beautiful place. Its architecture inspires a sense of calmness and peace. We sat in a sunny waiting area next to a long wall of curved glass that mimics the rolling hills and prairies of southern Minnesota. Very restful. And very big; I had to walk from building to building a couple of times to get things done, like having my blood drawn. They handle so many patients, but they were pleasant and efficient about ushering me through the system. Everything ran like clockwork, and I was called into my appointments on time.

The meeting with the oncologists went fine. They said they would be recommend the same treatments I've being doing with my University of Minnesota oncologist so far — the same chemo protocols, no surgery at this time. Where Mayo might diverge down the road is in the types of clinical trials they would offer if these forms of chemo don't work. So I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing for now, and when we come to a crossroads, I'll call Mayo and make decisions from there.

The doctors seemed encouraging, though. They said I'm handling chemo really well, bouncing back after each cycle, and as one of them put it, "I think we can push you pretty far." Which is a good thing in context; hopefully, it means we can buy a lot more time.