Post-Chemo Party

Want to have a fun party? Take chemo for 6 months and then have your last treatment. 

Afterward, you'll feel like dancing from a rooftop and sitting next to every woman at the table all at the same time. Consume mass amounts of special sushi, pork buns and Korean BBQ wings. Sprinkle in some kale salad for good measure. 

Skip desert and bring all the ladies back to your place. Drinks, loud laughter and hanging by the fire pit will be sweeter than anything served on a plate.

Women Gathering - Anju Edition

Very unexpectedly, the women who supported you every step of the way on this shitty journey will gift you with special things to commemorate this milestone. You never understood the significance of planting a tree for these or other occasions. But suddenly, you get it and you love it.

Am I old enough to have a tree? Yes, yes I am

Art meets love meets your breast cancer in this beautiful piece by the amazingly talented Erin. She will give you this and you'll feel so lucky its yours. Finally you get to put your hands all over her work because it calls out to be touched. The texture of the painted surfaces and the naked surfaces feel beautiful. You blush a little when you touch it, given its shape.

To see more of this beautiful work, go here

You won't forget to celebrate with the person who found your cancer, subsequently saving your life. The person who is there for you when your cuddle-o-meter is alarmingly low. You know that this value doesn't show up on your weekly labs when you go for treatment, but you do know that when these numbers get low, look out.

So you'll put on the dress he bought for you and wait for him to get ready to.

Then, just like that, you'll be eating oysters by candle light. Holding hands and admiring the views. In that moment, you're not really celebrating anything at all. And at the same time you're celebrating everything. 

No more chemo, start of summer, patio refurb, generally feeling blissed

Then, when you wake up the next day, you'll feel so blessed. You know that even though you have many more milestones to go before you leave this particular path, life is good where you are. Right now your life is everything you have always wanted. Plus more. 

Indeed it is

What I Want

I want to run a marathon,

or maybe,

do a century bike ride,

or maybe check in with my trainer,

'what up fool?'

I want to go to the city,

drink champagne,

dance all night. 

I want it to be hot

so I can wear my summer skirt

on a date to an outdoor show.

Then go for a drink,

then home for dessert.

I want to learn to:

embroider, 

Swing dance, 

find the good stuff. 

I want to go out to dinner, 

with you,

to a place we both like.

I want to listen to how you love

your passport photo,

sun ripened peaches,

and sea stones.

Instead, I'm at home.

Looking out the window,

wearing a brown hat.

The calendar says spring, 

but the sky is grey.

The heat clicks on now and then.

My body was sick.

It's better now, I guess. 

But the drugs take me away,

and I'm afraid I won't get back in time

for all of it.

Maybe I won't come back at all.

In which case, send me a postcard.

With a photo of you on the front,

eating a peach, standing by the ocean.

Ho-Hum-Hibernate

As you may have noticed, things have been pretty quiet here. Treatments every week have been a bit of a slog.

It's been going like this: chemo, recovery, catch-up, repeat. It feels like I'm in a kind of hibernation. Keeping it simple; focusing on those things in front of me which are most important. All while trying to ignore the myriad of shitty side effects brought on by the chemo.

I do have a couple posts rolling around in my head though. Those may make their appearance if they get insistent enough. We'll see.

Do check back on May 24th, the day after my last treatment, so you can read all about how happy I am do be done with chemo.

Until next time, Love and Muah


Image Source

Apropos of All of This and Some of That

I finally updated this little About Me page. 

Eventually, you'll see a list there of what I've been doing to heal from this illness, but for now its more like a bio. A bio of a person who is ready for summer. Big-time.

I got inspired to update it when I came across this blog. You might like that one as well.

4 down 8 to go

UPDATE: I had what felt like the stomach flu for the rest of the day. It started right after I posted this. I think I jinxed myself...doh.

This time, I refused the steroids. Best. Decision. Ever. Now I can actually feel what's happening in my body without all the noise from a monkey mind (see post below).

And on this 2nd day I can tell you exactly what I'm feeling: tired. All my bones are made of lead kind of tired.

So I have only 3 things on my list to do today, one of which is done. (Mmmmm...coffee tastes good) Anything extra is gravy. I give myself permission to honor this fatigue.

If you need anything, I'll be on the couch, or on my log chair outside, doing very little. With a big smile. And a sigh of relief.

Monkey Mind

Since I'm not a baseball player, competitive weight lifter, or looking to enhance my performance in any way, I've never delved into the wild world of steroids, nor had I planned to. I always figured I'd leave that to professionals.

Well, cancer will take you down many paths you didn't intend to travel down and these past couple weeks I have been receiving intravenous steroids once a week.

The intention with the steroids is to work with immune system so when it gets kicked to the ground by chemo, it doesn't fall so hard. It also helps with any possible allergic reaction that I may experience from this particular chemo drug.

In these two ways the steroids have mostly done their job. My white count has remained fairly stable and returns within a normal range in only 6 days after treatment. This is good, because it means I can keep receiving the treatments. As you can imagine, I want to stick to the treatment schedule so I can be done with this portion of the program.

Its also mostly kept the allergic reactions under control. I have a mild rash, which is itchy, but if I can keep from touching it, its like any other rash and will heal normally.

So I should write the steroids a thank you note, I guess.

I totally would do this (I'm old fashioned that way) but this drug has some pretty heavy side effects.

Ever head of steroid psychosis? Well, neither had I, until yesterday. After I'd explained to the nurse my strange mental state, she happened to mention it. I would say, given all that I've read about it since I heard the term, I had a pretty mild version.

I'm receiving a relatively low dose, only 25MG, but I also know I'm sensitive to medications. My body metabolizes medicines in a way I find very acute. To the medical ear, this may not make sense, but I know it to be true, even with something mild like Tylenol.

So pharmaceutically speaking, I'm a cheap date and 25MG of steroids have worked their evil magic on me. Yesterday, thankfully, I got only 10MG and can already tell that the monkeys have moved on. If I don't experience any allergic reaction this week, I'm not taking the steroids again.

Speaking from experience as a cancer patient, at the end of the day informed consent barely exists in this field of medicine.

I feel a bit bad saying this because I know my doctor and the nurses do intend to give the best care they can give. However, there is so much information that is simply not provided to the patient and I'm not sure why this is.

I'm not saying that knowing about steroid psychosis would have changed my decision to receive this medicine, but forewarned is forearmed. Had I known about it, I could have addressed it right away.

Instead though, I went through a really rough time. Alone. Too scared to tell anyone about it. And will do anything to avoid an encore performance, a la steroid style.

May it be so.

2 of 12

This is gonna be brief, I've already been writing for a bit this morning and french toast is calling.

Weekly treatments make my dance-card feel really full. I am juggling so many things right now, none of which feel like candidates which I can let fall.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I've let many go. Please don't mind the science experiment growing under my dining table or my piles of laundry scattered randomly around my domicile.

There are some though that can't be dropped nor would I want to drop them.

My Little Critter is medicine for me, so funny and fun to hang out with. He's a load of work though. In my "down time" my tired bones can be found playing "Particles," a made up game which involves scooting around on my butt trying to catch him and steal his magical box. Or holding him on my lap in the kitchen in deep conversation about meal planning.

This morning before I got out of bed we were talking about Samsara and what it all could mean. And then we talked about all the other creation and life after death myths we could think of.

Heavy stuff, pre-coffee. But I love it. That ball will stay in the air.

Hopefully the nausea will stay low-level and the raw fatigue and GI issues will follow suit. May it be so.

In my estimation I'm about 35% though this process. For that I feel so happy!