October 27th, 2008: Eileen Lemus and I showed up for my appointment with Dr. Daud this morning at UCSF. He told us that NONE of the pathology tests done on the biopsy tissue confirm that I have a melanoma. This means we are back to the original diagnosis of a sarcoma. I have to say, I felt punched. I had gone to clinic expecting to hear that I had melanoma tumors and that chemo could start very soon. I’m always amazed at how quickly I adjust to a diagnosis, and then, when it is altered, I shift again. But my adjustments aren’t immediate, they require some time. At this juncture, I asked Dr. Daud how much time I could expect to live if the proposed treatments don’t work. Would I have five months? Eight? “Oh, I would say at least a year,” he ventured. We agreed that these figures were not informed guesses since there are so many variables. Also, I am committed to receiving treatment with the goal of lengthening my life. A bright note in the meeting; the MRI brain scan I had on Friday showed clean pictures. No brain tumors! Since I am no longer a patient with melanoma, Dr. Daud and I said goodbye to each other. I have to say, I’ll miss him. There’s a sweetness and clarity about the guy that I found, well, healing.

This also means that I will meet—finally—with Dr. Jahan the sarcoma guru tomorrow in the late afternoon. We talked briefly with his physician assistant and she said that at this point, the plan is to start some seriously strong chemo, so strong that it requires hospitalization. Not sure when that will start, but I am hoping to work out a schedule at tomorrow’s meeting. I continue to be grateful that this strangely zig-zaging diagnosis did prevent me from having a major surgical intervention at the beginning of treatment. I think that would have hastened my death.

Emails and phone messages have indicated a strong interest among Healthy Geo readers about the imaginary healing spot I’ve created. Last Friday, I received two other visits. The first was from a plant, a sage green sphere with the structure of mistletoe. It said, telepathically, that it understood the branching structure of growth and that it had arrived to dissolve the metastasized cancers at various sites in my body. The second visit was from a vulture who explained that it could ingest highly toxic flesh and metabolize it with no ill effects. That said, the vulture painlessly slit open my lower abdomen with a claw and proceeded with amazing grace and delicacy to eat the pelvic tumor. There wasn’t a moment of discomfort or revulsion, rather, I felt very cared for by a master surgeon. With a nudge from its beak, my incision was closed, and it flew off into the sky. Interesting to note that even though tumor hasn’t been accurately identified, there are already forces at work to end the cancerous growths.