1/6/26 - That's so 2025.

Hi there.

Happy new year! Hope the holidays offered you just what you were needing. Sharing along an update on the latest health stuff – always an adventure around here! 

I had my first infusion of the new chemo protocol on Dec 2^nd, and it packed a pretty solid punch. I was wiped out, and it just took a while to get energy back. The first dose of a new protocol involves some figuring out, whether that’s me figuring out new side effects and their management or the oncologist figuring out the right dose that I can tolerate.

My white blood cell counts were too low for the scheduled Dec 16^th infusion, so we backed it up a week to Dec 22^nd. The oncologist adjusted the protocol which made for a better tolerated experience and smoother recovery. It also made for a pretty slow, chill Christmas around the house, which I think we all appreciated and needed.

So I’m back in the clinic today getting loaded up with the cocktail. My labs looked a lot better going into this one, which I’m grateful for.

The plan is to do 6 infusions of chemo and then do a CT scan to see how the tumors are responding. In the larger plan, we’ve reached a stage of disease where it’s not a prescribed number of cycles / infusions. Instead, we will try a course of treatment (chemo to start), get a scan, and then decide what next based on the data we have.

To help make these decisions, I’ve expanded my care team to include MD Anderson. After that first infusion in December, I was able to get in to see the colorectal cancer team at MD Anderson. My hope in all of that was to find an oncologist and team with deep experience with my specific cancer and a willingness to innovate, and I feel confident I found that there!

BIG shout out to my wonderful in-laws, Pam and Randy, who hosted me in Houston, fed me like a king, and offered the best of company. Randy shuttled me back and forth, and joined me on all the doctor visits. Again, I just don’t know how you do all this without the love and support of family and friends.

Back to MD Anderson…I also really appreciated their method of operating. It is a teaching hospital, and I could see and feel the emphasis on learning there. As always, good learning includes dialogue, curiosity, humility, and introduction of some well-thought-out ideas. I found all of that in my visit.

I had requested a specific oncologist, Dr. Scott Kopetz, who is a leader in the field of colon cancer research. Not surprisingly, he was booked up for a year plus. But through some good luck and a great P.A. that advocated for me, I was able to get in with Dr. Kopetz! I met with the P.A., a research fellow, and Dr. Kopetz for 3+ hours in total, learning a lot about my disease and the best courses of treatment we will be considering.

MD Anderson did their own CT scan, which required some thorough prep(!). It pointed to further evidence of cancer in the lung. The visible tumors on the CT scan are the “tip of the iceberg”, to use their language. This affirms that the cancer is still active, aggressive and moving through my body.

It also affirms the value of chemotherapy as a “systemic” treatment to treat my whole body, with the goal of getting the disease under better control. A “local” treatment option to target a specific area of disease will be a consideration at some point down the line – that might look like a lung surgery to remove a section of the lung, or some targeted radiation of the lung tumors. There’s also the future possibility of trials too, with trials representing leading edge thinking on treatment.

Any decisions on what next will be made with the MD Anderson team. And, as mentioned, the decisions will be driven by an updated CT scan / labs / etc., the overall health and resilience of my body, and a cross-functional team (including me!).

I continue, with Stacey’s constant help, to do a whole host of things to feed, nourish and heal my body. I’m confident this matters greatly.

At the risk of sounding dramatic, these have felt like possibly the most important months of my life, particularly on the heels of…well…my life leading up to it. Sure, the precarious nature of my health makes every health decision feel critical. But that’s not what has made it all feel important. And the word “important” doesn’t quite capture it.

I continue to just be flooded, in all the right ways, by everything this disease is revealing. I’m not quite sure how to even talk or write about it. (And maybe that’s the exact time to try and talk or write about it. I’m working on it.) I feel like that if I share about it too much, it might just sound crazy.

And I also constantly ask “what is mine to do?” In this time I have in this world, however long that may be, how can I love well, serve others (particularly those at the margins), and leave things better than I found them?

For now, with what I’ve got going on, I might try a little more writing. And maybe even sharing that writing in the hopes it could offer even the smallest something to somebody. I’ll keep trying to be more present for Stacey, Slaid and Stella. I’ll try to be more patient and compassionate with teenage angst (Lord help me). And maybe just be more present for everyone I find myself with, stranger or otherwise. I’ll try to listen better. I’ll try to be a good neighbor and friend. I’ll try to be a good family member.

I’ll screw all of that up.

And I’ll try again.

Much love to you and yours in 2026. I look forward to crossing paths with you…

Matt

Dropping in a few pics from: Christmas Eve with the "framily" and dance performance, getaway to Bastrop with friends.