Cancer rarely announces its changes with drama. It moves in metrics, scans, and clinical notes. And as much as I have learned to read my body through each step of my many long walks, fasting windows, heart rate, and sleep, the real story often arrives through the documents that land in my Princess Margaret chart.
This week, I received two new updates — one on December 8 and another on December 10 — each adding another layer of clarity as I start treatment and begin a clinical trial. Together, they confirm something important: my cancer remains confined, measurable, and stable enough to move forward — and so am I.
A Clear Picture of Where I Stand
The outcomes from these last two visits to Princess Margaret have reaffirmed the same core message I’ve lived with since tumour recurrence was confirmed:
- My disease is liver-only, with no spread beyond the liver.
- Some hepatic lesions showed slight interval changes — one a little smaller, one slightly larger — but overall the imaging reads as stable disease compared to prior scans.
- No thoracic metastases.
- No abdominal or pelvic spread.
- My pancreatic cyst remains stable and non-threatening.
In cancer terms, this is geography I can work with. Territory where I can fight.
The outcome of today’s visit note also reiterated what my team has consistently stated: I am a candidate for standard-of-care FOLFIRI + Panitumumab, but my physical condition and disease profile make me equally, if not better, suited for the GSK5764227 clinical trial.
The washout period is complete. The screening is passed. The slot is open.
December 10: The Final Check Before the First Infusion
The December 10 visit with the trial oncology team was the last piece of the puzzle before treatment could begin. It documented my bloodwork from the same day — normal glucose, normal chloride, a clean panel — and officially listed metastatic colon adenocarcinoma as the diagnosis.
Metastatic colon adenocarcinoma is advanced, stage 4 colon cancer that has spread (metastasized) from the colon to distant parts of the body, most commonly the liver, lungs, peritoneum, or distant lymph nodes, via the bloodstream or lymphatic system. While often not curable, treatments like chemotherapy, targeted therapy, immunotherapy, and surgery aim to control it, extend life, and improve quality, with outcomes varying wildly depending on treatment response and cancer characteristics.
There’s something quietly powerful about seeing my chart evolve from “assessment” to “action.”
My participation in the GSK5764227 trial is no longer theoretical. It is scheduled.
Why These Updates Matter
When I look at these summaries, I don’t see administration. I see orientation — a map of where I am as Chapter Four continues.
They reaffirm several truths I hold onto:
- My cancer is active, but not explosive.
- My liver is still the only battleground.
- My performance status remains excellent.
- My body weight is stable.
- My heart, as shown in the recent ECG and TTE, is structurally sound and ready.
- My glucose has normalized after months of fasting discipline, walking, and metabolic repair.
This isn’t the picture of someone fighting from behind. This is someone stepping into treatment with strength, clarity, and intention.
The Shift From Waiting to Doing
For weeks, everything has been preparation: scans, ECGs, echocardiograms, bloodwork, fasting protocols, long walking days, sauna cycles, sleep discipline, and the mental sorting that comes with knowing a new therapy is approaching.
But now the tone changes.
There is no more “if the trial slot opens.”
No more “if screening passes.”
No more “if the team agrees.”
All of that is settled. The path is chosen.
Tomorrow, I sit down in a chair at Princess Margaret, and the first infusion of GSK5764227 goes into my bloodstream. The fight becomes chemical. Targeted. Directed. Real, in a way, it hasn’t been since April.
Chapter Four Continues
I have said before that Chapter Four is the phase defined not by panic, but by discipline, not by chaos, but by clarity.
This update confirms that I am exactly where I need to be to start this next phase. My disease is measurable. My body is ready. My medical team is aligned. My daily habits have built a foundation strong enough to carry treatment.
I have been averaging more than 15,000 steps a day since my last surgery back in April. I have fasted, trained, planned, monitored, and adapted. Everything I have done has led me to the moment where preparation finally shifts into action.
Tomorrow, the work continues.
Tomorrow, the therapy begins.
Tomorrow, Chapter Four sharpens its focus.
I have done everything I can to meet this moment with strength.
I am ready.