No, you can’t sir!

Last week I experienced slightly more side-effects, which were niggling my body and brain while writing my update early the next morning.  Turns out I did have to sit out my early class of the day, the "Summerwood Gals" kindly reminding me to take care of myself and advising me to try to get more sleep.  So, while I missed one class, the rest of Thursday was business-as-usual, as was Friday & Saturday.  Those days I worked alongside a case of mild nausea.  I was still able to spend a few hours painting calligraphy, walking with a dear, former neighbor, scaring the crap out of another one, as he worked in his yard with headphones on high volume, and kept my appointment to see Cristina Libenson  who, if all goes well, will be providing her photo shoot experience with me in December, thanks to a generous and wonderful artist and friend of mine.  I had a lovely offering of El Caribe soup from my sweet landlords, which hit the spot on a rainy, dreary day an...

I am happy to report the second round of chemo yesterday was unbelievably easy, much faster and with the help of good company and friendly staff, rather enjoyable.  As of sixteen hours post treatment, just a little insomnia and gut aches are side effects I’m experiencing.  They’re not severe enough to cause alarm or changes to my planned schedule today, so once again, I am feeling relatively normal and grateful for that. The treatment began later than the first, which allowed a cozy start to the day with my friend and neighbor across the street who kindly offered to make breakfast for us.  I’m learning proper nutrition is a big factor in the success of preventing side effects and hopefully efficacy of the medicine on the cancer.  Quinoa, a delicious mix of sautéed sweet potatoes, spinach, onion, tomatoes and egg, Aletha takes brunch seriously and it did the trick!  And lucky me: we are making this a Wednesday date on the days I have this shift (11:30-3pm) and th...

The first week of chemotherapy went so much better than I anticipated.   I had set strong intentions of feeling well and staying strong, but a part of me reserved a space for possibly having to bag on commitments and lay low.  I'm so grateful that was not necessary.  Thursday, I had a regular workday and did my first gym workout since having the port surgery (I took it a little easy on both weight load and intensity, but otherwise felt pretty normal and happy to be breaking a sweat).   Now it's Friday: a chilly, rainy Veterans' Day and I'm enjoying some snuggle-time with Jet Dog, one of my good buddies who will accompany me and some gal pals on the hike and bike trail in the morning.  I am embracing the change of season, the time change, this very moment and the miracle of life, while reflecting on the heavy reality of death.   Last weekend I attended the wake of a wonderful man and the dear husband of my beautiful friend Amanda.  Earli...

It wasn't terrible.   Jacquelyn was at my door at 7:15am with a bright smile, hair products --a gift from her stylist for me to mitigate hair loss, and a walnut-cranberry mix to snack on the short drive to Texas Oncology.  We were the only non-staff people present and the floor was sparse, quiet and calm.  A nurse named Suzie showed me to the infusion room to first take blood and give me the lay of the land.  My seat was one closest to the nurse's station as I was the only new patient during this time slot and after the vial of blood was taken, Suzie ushered me back to Jacquelyn in the waiting room while the lab technicians could survey my blood.  During that short walk we learned we had BodyBusiness in common...she had been a member for several years and met her future husband there!  Small world moments remind me I'm on the right path.  After filling out a bit of paperwork and a brief exam with Nurse Lana I went back to the infusion room for the...

Big, scary names for big, scary, chemotherapy medicines and one that helps stimulate white blood cell production, which will be wiped out over the course of the next several months.  I'm trying to calmly prepare for this physical and mental onslaught mainly by focusing on positive and uplifting reading (I'm staying away from the news at the moment) meditating, doing yoga, tai chi and visualizing positive outcomes.  Living in the moment as best I can and enjoying time spent with friends and sweet animals, going outside as often as possible, and taking long, hot, epsom and himaylayan salt baths.  Art and music.  Listening to it and playing my ukulele as often as I can, drawing and painting a little.  These things and all of my amazing friends and family members are pulling me through. Kindly, my dentist Dr. Bell and his wonderful team , got me in last minute for a good cleaning today.  Apparently mouth sores, sensitive teeth and mucositis are some of the more...

As is usually the case with unpleasant necessities, the anticipation of discomfort was worse than the reality of what I’ve experienced thus far with my new port.   I live nearby the surgical hospital where it was being done and walked over in the darkness of a clammy, drizzly morning which helped calm my nerves.  I was hoping that I wouldn’t need to have anyone fetch me afterwards, but they will not release you unattended.   My nurse Roland couldn’t have been more calming, Dr. Coombs-Skiles more diligent and the anesthesia more effective, and the four hours spent there were not altogether unpleasant.  My trusty friend Ethna was steadfastly awaiting my release post-op, with comforting chicken noodle soup and a luscious avocado for later.  (I could’ve walked home, but definitely could not have driven.)  Thank you, Lady E! It doesn’t look too bad, the port, and as of yet I have no pain or much discomfort, and I have one less thing to think about. Today I lear...

My longtime friend and fitness client, Ethna, has kindly offered to be my ride and post-operation companion today, after I have the necessary surgical procedure of a port installed near the clavicle on one side, here in a few hours time.   I dread it, but know that getting jabbed in the arm week-after-week, for the next five months is likely much worse, and the port provides a consistent entry-point for the chemotherapy to be administered.  My mom has expressed concern, as she knows someone whose port became badly infected, so I will be hyper vigilant about keeping this area squeaky clean and hope it heals well.   Tomorrow I get to go to chemotherapy education class at Texas Oncology, and will take good notes and try not to freak out.  The side effects I’ve read about already make me want to run away to the desert, but I’m working diligently with mind and body to prepare for the cancer-killing agents to do their job and for my healthy cells to come back stronger. ...

Breathing came a little easier after hearing Dr. Patt declare the cancer is only at stage three, that it definitely hasn't spread to any other areas of my body.  Now begins the task of shrinking the tumors, so the surgical procedure is easier and has a higher success rate.   Next week I will begin a twelve-week chemotherapy protocol of a drug named Taxol.  Every Wednesday for the next twelve weeks from 8am - noon I will have this cancer-killing cocktail infused into my bloodstream, where it takes 24 hours for the drug to do its work and leave my system.  After three months of Taxol, I begin a biweekly treatment of Doxorubicin (Adriamycin) + Cyclophosphamide (Cytoxan) together called AC.  After two months of AC infusions, I get to have a month or so of recovery before facing surgery.  (I'm hoping by then they find not one cancerous cell left in my body and surgery won't be necessary...magical moe-thinking, perhaps, but I'm praying for it anyway.)  ...