The Last Chemo -- Photos

Adjusting to Being Done

I had my last chemo yesterday. I'm flooded with feelings -- elation, disbelief, and some anxiety. Things got off to a slow start. Before I headed to the infusion room, a well-meaning nurse inserted a needle that was an inch too long into my portocatheter. She drew the blood she needed, then sent me on my way. Once in the infusion room, the nurse there was not pleased, noting with irritation that this long a needle could be dangerous. It could break off, leaving part of the needle embedded in my chest. He said he need to insert a new needle. So I got poked again. ...I'm more used to it now, but I still look away and place my mind on other things when I know I'm going to be punctured.

I have no complaints about the rest of the day. The Benedryl made me loopy as usual. I had nice visits from LW and MI. Dan brought me my requested lunch -- a cheeseburger without the bun and French fries. That should help put some weight back on me!

The grand finale was what I was waiting for -- when the treatment was over, several of the nursing staff tossed confetti on my head and handed me a "diploma" of chemo survival. I got hugs from staff, applause from other patients, and words of congratulations. As I headed out of the infusion room I got to ring the victory bell on the wall and heard the sound of cheers behind me. Dan took some pictures. A lovely but bittersweet feeling. I feel a connection to and sadness for the patients left behind, with more treatments to come. I want good things for them.

...Now this part, the chemo part, of this cancer dream is over.

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I've been doing pretty well today. I went to my supervision group and it felt good to reconnect with my "family" and see these dear, familiar faces.

When I saw Dr. S yesterday I voiced my concern about research on the relationship between non-Hodgkins lymphoma, small intestine cancer, and gluten intolerance/Celiac disease. He listened to my concerns and said that the symptoms I'm worried about might be a result of the chemo itself, not necessarily Celiac disease. I said I had quite a bit of anxiety about my upcoming CAT scan. In his own quirky way, I know he was being caring towards me. He said with emphasis and a bit of humor, "Jane, I told you I'm good at this!!" He followed up with a statement about expecting to see no cancer in the CAT scan I'll have in September. I am somewhat reassured. I will still do my best to avoid gluten and wheat for the time being.

In my resting time today I've had moments of excitement and elation when thinking of returning to activities that bring me joy. I want to return to watercolor painting again soon. I want to have lunch with friends. And I'm fantasizing about taking a short, relaxing, celebratory trip. Aaahhh.....

As I Approach #6

As I approach chemo #6, I'm feeling glad, sad, and scared. I'm glad that the chemo ordeal is coming to an end, but sad that Dan will soon be leaving. I'll be on my own for 70 days. And I'm downright terrified of going for the CAT scan or PET scan or whichever it is that I'll have about 6 weeks after my last chemo. (That test should tell if there's any cancer remaining or re-emerging anywhere.) I've read that people undergoing chemotherapy often feel depressed or scared after their last chemo. The worry is: "Now that the chemo is over, what's going to keep the cancer from coming back??!!" I share that fear.

And now I'm pretty sure I'm gluten intolerant. I've been learning this through experience -- certain GI discomfort I'm having. I've been reading up on the connection between gluten intolerance, small intestine cancer, and non-Hodgkins lymphoma. ...More on this later. For now, I'm doing my best to avoid wheat and gluten.

I meditated this morning. Wanted to bring as much sanity to the situation as I can. Coming back to my breath. Staying in the present. Looking up at the beautiful, sprawling live oaks in our back yard. I really need to keep meditating now more than ever. Get back into a regular habit. Live in the present. Enjoy each breath. Right now my breathing comes easily. I feel healthy --yes, in this moment, healthy! I'll go to work today, see clients, have lunch with MS, and run my group.

Tomorrow when I go to the oncology center I plan to take flowers to give to the other patients in the infusion room. Often when someone is having their last chemo they bring something for the other patients. ...Wow. My last chemo....For 4 months chemotherapy has dictated my life. (Feels so-o-o-o much longer than 4 months!) And now that chapter is about to come to an end.

Welcome Back, Sweet Owls

The fledgling screech owls came back for an early bath this morning -- a most welcome sight since we hadn't seen them for over a week. At 6:20 first one, then the other got in the birdbath and then bathed together. One of the parents was perched nearby. I wish I could share these images with my blog readers. Words just don't do justice to how charming it is to see these little creatures going about their ritual, dipping their heads, fluttering and fluffing their wings in the water, then staring out at the world with their big wide eyes. They're maturing now, almost the size of the parents, but fluffier and their coloring is not as defined. ...And to think that in February they didn't even exist! In March they were only eggs. ...The delightful miracles of nature and life.

As for me, I'm gradually recovering from this infection. I added a new medication for pain. I'm feeling better bit by bit. And biding my time until next Thursday's 6th and final chemo.

Drat! Sick Again

I got another infection this weekend, had to call the after-hours doctor on call last night. But fortunately this time, no trip to the emergency room. Just a prescription for an antibiotic. I'm so tired of having my body compromised! When I'm doing my best, washing my hands all the time, using antibacterial hand gels, doing my best to stay away from sick people, I still get blindsided.

There is good news though. I'm very heartened to have stuck up an email correspondence with David Treadway, Ph.D., author of Home Before Dark. His successful journey to the survivor side of non-Hodgkins lymphoma reminds me that people get through this nightmare and continue to live productive, rewarding, and happy lives.

"Make Positive Effort for the Good"

This morning I meditated. My night had been restless and my sleep interrupted. I got up early feeling tired and very grumpy. But meditating usually yields something good.

While meditating I remembered the phrase I first learned from Natalie Goldberg's Wild Mind: "Make positive effort for the good" -- advice from her Zen teacher, Katagiri Roshi. In my mind's eye I can see Natalie feeling completely bludgeoned by a cold, dragging herself out of bed to do something good in the world -- to write, to say "hello "to a neighbor, to lift her head up and see the sky. I figure if she can do it, I can too.

I've had this little gem with me for 20 years. It still works.

Back to Work Today

I feel rested and I'm heading back to work today. I'll rest intermittently as needed. This time after my 5th chemo I took a full week off, opting to cancel my group for one week. Having the extra day to take it easy really seemed to help.

I continue to feel grateful and blessed to have the many people who are wishing me well, sending me prayers of healing. ...And I only have one chemo treatment left!

I do find re-entering the work world and world of normal responsibilities a bit daunting after I've had a week to tend only to me. It's a necessary but somewhat odd feeling to be so totally focused on my own survival and well-being.

I both welcome and dread each re-entry into the "real world." (Right now dread is primary!) In the real world my colleagues are doing adventurous things, my 85-year-old father-in-law has cancer, one niece is happily pregnant and another is busy being a camp counselor in the Northeast, friends and family are living their lives expansively -- being creative, connecting with others. I both long for and cringe at the thought of nudging myself back into the challenges of taking on risks, expanding my life again. For so long, my life has shrunk in order for me to put my health first. My own creativity and expansion have been on a back burner. Now I'm beginning to contemplate bringing those parts of me back into action. Yes, I feel longing and dread. Anticipation and fear...

And what I long for most is to go on a vacation, to play and relax -- to see the ocean and bask in the sun with warm sea breezes wafting over me!

Still Doing Pretty Well

I'm still feeling pretty good. I'll take it easy today, meditate and rest, enjoy the overcast skies.

Yesterday I ate a cheeseburger -- what is the world coming to?! :-) I figure it will be good for my red blood count.

So Far, So Good

It's Monday morning and so far I'm feeling pretty good -- much better than usual at this point post-chemo treatment. I just finished meditating and am feeling at peace with the world. I'll take it easy today.

Wishing you a good day, everyone!

What a Treat!

This morning I got up at 6:30, feeling I had the chutzpah to head to the kitchen and take those Prednisone pills. (Do it now before I have time to think!) I assembled all my pills and everything else I needed and then looked out the kitchen window. One of the fledgling screech owls was sitting in the birdbath looking fluffy and cute!

I hollered to Dan who was still in bed. He jumped up to join me and we watched as first one owl, then another (also a fledgling), and finally papa and mama owl all took baths. It was wonderful. At one point 3 owls were all within easy eyeshot -- one in the bath and two perched nearby on a huge and gnarly ash juniper root. (I call it "the Root of Medusa.") We stood watching with our binoculars for 20 minutes, feeling so privileged that these owls feel comfortable and happy in our yard, with our birdbath, and with two eager, benign spectators. We have lots of fun speculating what the owls are thinking, totally allowing ourselves to anthropomorphize them to our hearts' content!

What a lovely start to the day!

Chemo Day -- Things I'm Grateful For

5 things I'm grateful for:

1) that I get to wear my CLOTHES during the chemo treatment! (A medical procedure where you get to wear your clothes is so much better than the ones where you have to wear that flimsy little gown!)

2) that the oncology center is so close to where I live

3) that Dan will be with me

4) that I'll see Susie today, a wonderful volunteer who's a survivor

5) that I have people who love me who are rooting for me in all this.

...Time to go!

Tomorrow - Chemo # 5

I'm about to leave my office now. I'm done with my workday. Tomorrow I'll have chemo #5. I'm shutting down my work life for a week, putting a new outgoing voicemail message on the machine, giving the plants a good watering, making sure my paperwork is up-to-date -- doing the things I'd be doing if I were going on vacation. But it's not a vacation. As of tomorrow I'll be surrendering my body to the processes that await me for the next several days. I dread it but know it's necessary.

Better Now

It's Tuesday and I'm at work. Last night I had the best night's sleep I've had in quite a while. I'm low on stamina and energy, but feel so much better than the last few days. My breathing is good and I have no fever. I'll be able to work a full day today.

I've gotten loving cards and calls and an upcoming gift of a massage from IR. So nice.

Today after work I'll go home to watch "The Last Picture Show" with Dan.

I Wish I Had Better News to Report

I wish I could say I'm bouncing back, regaining my energy and strength since starting the antibiotic regimen for my pneumonia. But the truth is I'm still weak and exhausted and have a chronic dry cough along with occasional difficulty breathing throughout the day or night. It's most troublesome at night when I'm awakened by shortness of breath and the feeling that my lungs just won't/can't fill. ...Last night I tried something that was time-consuming but seemed to help. When the breathing problem woke me, I got up, drank a lot of water, and sat upright until my breathing became more regular. It took about an hour and then I was able to get back to sleep, in a semi-upright position. It scares me when this happens. And at the same time, I want to do everything within my power to stay out of the emergency room. The emergency room scares me too.

I'll definitely tell Dr. S about these problems when I see him next Thursday.

There are some things that are bringing me pleasure in all this physical mahem. Last weekend I found a book at Barnes & Noble in their "Diseases" section (!), entitled, Home Before Dark. It's a memoir by a psychologist, David Treadway, and his wife and two sons. It's the story of Treadway's successful battle with non-Hodgkins lymphoma, as told by Treadway himself and the three other members of his family. He started out with a horrible prognosis (death), but was successfully treated and is now a survivor 5 years later. It's extremely comforting to me to read about his and his family's experiences over the many months of his diagnosis, treatment, and recovery. I find myself relating easily to many of the things he reports ...including it being 80 degrees outside and him being bundled up in a woolen nightshirt and heavy robe, trying to stay warm! It's also encouraging to me that he underwent one of the same chemotherapy cocktails that I'm doing -- R-CHOP. The drug Rituxin was new back then and found to be very effective in people who could tolerate it. Rituxin is part of my regimen.

The other happy news is that our screech owls made a return visit to our back yard this morning! First Dan spotted 2 of the fledglings in a tree, looking very young, fluffy, and cute. I got out of bed to grab the binoculars and get a good look. Then the mama owl came and took a lengthy bath in the birdbath! That's the best because we can get a very good look at the whole owl, complete with her expression as she sees us peering at her from inside the house. A joyful time for us indeed!

I'm So Happy!

I just took my temperature. It's 98.6!!! This means I won't have to go to the oncology center and spend the afternoon getting an IV of fluids. Yay!

Fever, Pneumonia, and the Emergency Room

Yesterday morning I woke up feeling headachy. I didn't feel good and didn't want to go to work, but I had a full day of clients scheduled and hated the idea of calling everyone to cancel their appointments. I took some Tylenol and was feeling better within the hour. I was able to work the full day but was really ready to come home and rest once the last client was out the door. I felt shivery and shaky when I left the office.

In the evening, Dan noticed that I was flushed and we took my temperature -- 103.3 degrees. I did NOT want to go to the hospital, but that is exactly what the oncologist on call said I needed to do. We went to Seton ER, I got some tests including a chest X-ray, and I had some fluids pumped into me. It turns out I have pneumonia in my right lung. I was given an intravenous antibiotic and a prescription for more.

We got home around 2:00 a.m., exhausted but so glad I didn't have to stay overnight in the hospital.

In the middle of the night I got up to go to the bathroom, then came back to bed and just couldn't get warm enough. I had plenty of covers on, but began shivering and shaking uncontrollably. I kept trying to will myself to make the shivering stop, counting each breath I could go without shivering. I created an affirmation for myself: "I am warm, comfortable, and calm." I mentally recited it over and over, waiting for the shaking to subside. For about 20 minutes I shuddered and shook, and eventually fell back asleep.

This morning -- not good news. We took my temperature when I woke up -- 103.6 degrees. Right now we have a call in to the oncologist's office, waiting to see what they recommend. Of course, my very strong preference is to stay out of the hospital and just do a lot of resting at home. And I began doing what I can to reduce my fever on my own -- drinking water and a smoothie I made of strawberries and a banana. I want to do what's within my control to improve my condition and reduce my fever. ...And just 10 minutes ago I took my temperature again. This time it was 100 degrees. A real improvement!

Learning by Trial and Error

Yesterday started out well -- Dan and I decided to go on the Austin Pond Society tour and we visited several homes with ponds of varying sizes. I was so ready to do something fun! I knew I was a little weak and also that I would not be able to tolerate wearing my wig, so I wore a scarf tied around my head gypsy-style. The day was hot and it wasn't long before I was feeling fatigued. We kept pushing on to visit more ponds but by the last one, I stayed in the air-conditioned car while Dan toured the pond. Once we got home I went immediately to bed, plagued by unremitting nausea. I realize in hindsight that I overdid it. It was just too much exertion and heat, too hard to stay hydrated and cool.

After yesterday's experience I vowed that today I would just rest. And thankfully, that's been working. I feel better. Lots of lying in bed, some reading and some dozing off into pleasant little naps. ...I've started reading Sarah Silverman's autobiography, The Bedwetter. It's a fast read -- sometimes funny, sometimes alarming, just the thing to get my mind on something entertaining and distracting.

I also have been listening to Marion Woodman (Jungian analyst) on tape, talking about her cancer experiences. Her first oncologist insisted she only had 2 months to live. Having a much more positive attitude herself, she asked him if he would be happy to see her sitting before him in 6 months. He said "No," and she promptly fired him! Good decision! And what a great example of how to take a proactive approach to her own medical care.

Hair Joy

Today was another rough day -- hard to eat, stave off the nausea, and maintain energy for my short work day. At times I felt I was hanging by a thread. But in the midst of this were a couple of bright spots. Two people I hadn't seen in months were very enthusiastic about my "hair," saying the new cut was very becoming. (If they only knew!) I was physically feeling awful at the time but their compliments brought my spirits up, took me momentarily out of my malaise, and allowed me to feel normal and attractive instead of like a bald-headed zombie.

Along these lines, I continue to treasure the words of encouragement from friends and family. I may be feeing physically weak, headachy, and nauseated, and then hearing a cheering voice on my voicemail or receiving an encouraging email or blog comment lifts me up. I'm able to hold on to these words and they help keep me going.

Tonight I really wanted to go out with Dan, so after doing everything I knew to take care of my nausea, we went to dinner. I wore my longer bob-style wig -- the one that turns me into "Regina," a persona we're playfully developing over time. We had a nice dinner. After we came home I immediately took off "Regina" and, as Dan said, I became "Yul Brynner" again. I laughed. Yes, sometimes I am Yul Brynner.

I Made It!

I made it through the day. Got to work mid-afternoon, saw one client, and then ran my group. I feel awful and wonderful at once! I can go home happy.

Feeling Weak

I slept well last night and thought I would have more energy today but I feel very weak. Lost a bit more weight. I'm drinking Ensure (high protein drink) to do my best to get my weight back up. I may drink it all day.

Dan and I watched a few episodes of "Mad Men" last night. ...Our owls are long gone -- off into the wild blue yonder. We miss them.

Last night's storm was dramatic and fun. Lots of thunder and lightning. It's still raining gently now. ...I'm ready for some sun. Am hoping to be able to make it in to work later today. Not sure yet if I will. Ensure, do your work!

I'm Okay

I'm hanging in there. Thank you, dear ones, for all your healing wishes. I'll rest more today, then plan to head back for light days of work on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

I still have lessons I want to learn from all this -- in particular that there are some things I just can't control. I want to make peace with that while not giving up.

Back to bed for now.

Recovering

Today I feel better. Not much energy, but overall, I'm significantly better than yesterday and Saturday. I'll rest and do small chores.

Took the last of the Prednisone (until next round of chemo). Yay!

Ugh -- It's Back

The nausea and complete exhaustion are back. ...I just took my Prednisone and I'm keeping it down! I feel proud of myself.

Now, back to bed.

New Good "Food"

It's Friday morning and I'm a little shaky, but I slept well. Profuse sweating during the night which is unusual for me. It didn't really bother me because I was able to sleep soundly. I'd wake up briefly, notice I was sweating, feel a little wave of chill, then quickly fall back asleep.

Yesterday I received in the mail something I'd ordered and was happy to get: some CD's from Sounds True about people's cancer stories and cancer lessons. It's called "Cancer as a Turning Point: From Surviving to Thriving." The CD's have 9 different speakers, including survivors, healers, analysts, and story tellers -- Jean Shinoda Bolen, Joan Borysenko, Marion Woodman and others. This morning I listened to one segment as I lay resting in bed. It was Dawna Markova, Ph.D. telling about her many years of cancer survival and people's reactions, including her own. As I listened I felt understood, inspired, and well fed. It was like having my own little support group at my fingertips. I look forward to having this to listen to in the coming days which will probably include some rough times.

Thank you to all who sent me well wishes, thoughts, and prayers yesterday. I really appreciate it! Each time I go for chemo I take you with me in my heart and wear the healing necklace from LM, the bracelet from RM and group. I had nice visits from LM and my sister-in-law Kathy. It was good to have Dan with me all day. ...I had a few deep, completely out-of-it naps.

And now, to take my Prednisone ...get it over with for today.

I'm Done and I'm Surviving

I completed my chemo and am doing pretty well. I'm tired and feel a bit drugged -- the residue effects of the heavy-duty Benedryl dose. But I'm nausea free and headache free! The 2 different antinausea drugs they gave me today (one by I-V and the other orally), are attacking the nausea at both the brain and the stomach and they're working! I'm finding that especially when my brain is getting that message, "We don't have nausea," it really works.

Owl update: I got to see one of the fledglings and the mother screech owl perched in separate trees tonight. There are 4 or 5 little ones who have fledged and we think the last one fledged today so we'll have no more cute little faces peeking out of the nest box, at least until next year. The fledlings look very fuzzy and cuddly.

Chemo #4 --Today

I stayed in bed, avoiding, as long as I could. Now it's time to get ready and go for round 4. In 9 hours it should be over.

Where Did My Energy Go?

I got up this morning after a pretty good night's sleep thinking Dan and I would be able to do some fun stuff today. But almost immediately after rising, I felt the need to go back to bed and rest. No headache or nausea, thank goodness, just complete and utter exhaustion. I've developed some shortness of breath and a slight dry cough in the past few days. I hope they will subside by themselves or with a little help from my asthma inhaler.

I got a truly heartwarming and healing call from Hope today. Made me feel good all over. Wonderful to hear about her sitting on her porch overlooking the ocean and seeing and talking with Wendilee at the Memorial Day parade!

I am extremely grateful to have the tempurpedic bed that raises and lowers as needed for comfort. It helps a great deal. I napped, watched TV and read today, at last finishing Julie Powell's "Cleaving." She partially redeems herself by the end of the book. At this point I'm quite tired of reading about animal entrails and butchery. Time for a new book!

Tomorrow is will be very long workday filled with many clients back-to-back. I'm going to think positive thoughts and maybe take an extra blanket to warm me in the frigid office.

A Good Day

It has turned out to be a good day after all. In the morning I was able to get a little nap and then Dan and I went to the Crawfish Festival in Fredricksburg. We heard some cajun bands, ate some crawfish, then headed to Pedernales Falls. I love being by large rushing bodies of water. It was refreshing even though the water was warm to the touch. This evening we went to Central Market to watch the Salsa Dance Contest. There were 6 place-winners. We disagreed with the judges on most of their choices, but c'est la vie. ...Sure looks like a fun way to dance. I want to learn it!

Dan is watching the screech owl nest box right now. One of the little ones has been poking its head out every night for the past few nights but has yet to summon the courage to leave the nest. One or both parents have taken a bath in the birdbath every morning around 6:00 for the past 3 days. It's exciting and sweet and keeps us (Dan especially) glued to our binoculars.

Acceptance, Fear, and Dread

I woke up this morning around 4:45 a.m. with intrusive thoughts of my next chemo session. Slight headache and uneasy stomach too. How I would have preferred to remain in my earlier oblivous dreamless sleep state with no conscious awareness of my cancer or my bald head! ...But again, the Internet and my blog are comforting places to come. I know I need to complete my treatments, but it's getting increasingly difficult to use "healthy denial" to get through this. I know the side effects now and believe I will have them, I just don't know the extent to which I'll have them. I've been told by several people that the side effects get worse. Even LP, the nurse practitioner said that as time goes on and I do more treatments, I may need to take more time off work. I really HATE the idea of having to cancel client sessions with little notice. I've had to do it a few times and so far the result hasn't been too bad -- no clients have stopped treatment. But I'm used to being responsible and so my self-image gets shaken when I can't follow through on a work commitment. It's hard for me to accept this. I think I'd like to get to a place of accepting it, just holding on to the idea that yes, of course I'm a responsible person, and if I didn't have cancer and chemo, I'd be showing up for all my commitments.

One of the images that came to mind when I woke this morning was of having "my people," my loved ones holding my hands while I let the toxic chemicals drip into me next Thursday. In this image, my eyes are closed so I can rest, sleep, deny, dissociate. Another image is of having my dear ones hold me as I take each noxious Prednisone tablet, then sitting with me wordlessly, patiently, with acceptance and love as I will myself to keep the pills down, digest them so they can do their work.

Feeling Good

Today I'm feeling good. It's pretty outside and my work day should be short and manageable, with some fun recreation thrown in. Yesterday I hit a wall, lost my energy and came home sooner than I'd planned. It was Dan's and my 5th anniversary of meeting each other. (We both agree it seems longer!) We met exactly 5 years ago at Mirabelle, and that's where we went for dinner.

Yesterday I had a touching and helpful phone conversation with SF. We talked about her cancer and mine. She's now coming up on her 5th year of being a survivor. Hooray! When I called her, I was needing to hear another success story. She suffered a lot and almost lost her life. But now she's doing well. It helps me psychologically to know she went to the same branch of the Texas Oncology Center that I go to. She made it out alive! I'm holding on to that idea as something I can do too.

Doing Okay...but

Today I'm doing pretty well physically. I worked full days yesterday and the day before and I plan to work today. I realize I'm a little depressed. My life recently has focused so much on enduring the chemo, doing my best to tolerate and ride out the side effects, then going back to work -- I miss having more fun. I feel "out of the loop." I've had to miss various work-related activities and social events because I didn't feel well or didn't have the energy. I'm used to being involved with my community and I feel isolated. I miss my friends and the hustle-bustle of an active social life.

This past weekend for the first time in quite a while I felt like reading. I started "Cleaving," a memoir by Julie Powell, author of "Julie and Julia." About 120 pages into the book, I want to strangle her, almost wish I could get a refund for the book!

What I still want to, need to learn and keep focusing on is living in the moment, in the present.

"As human beings, we have a working basis within ourselves that allows us to uplift our state of existence and cheer up fully. That working basis is always available to us. " - CTR

Work and Optimism

I'm feeling better and plan to work a full day today. I think my body will be up for it.

A Little Zest for Life

It's around 6:30 a.m. and I just got the best night's sleep I've had in many days. Several hours of continuous sleep with none of the nightmares and headaches of the previous two nights. Yay! I feel I'm gradually rejoining the world of the living. In this moment I'm good!

This past week was particularly rough. I'd been fiercely holding onto my denial about how long I'd be knocked down by the chemo. After all, I'd taken almost an entire week off, that should be enough I told myself. But yesterday was very hard. I had only 3 clients scheduled throughout the day and that was plenty. My nausea was so persisitent that I came home after each client, took off my wig and work clothes, got back into my pajamas and into bed to rest and stave off the nausea for a while until it was time to put the wig and work clothes back on and drive back to the office. Very unpleasant.

During the last few days I felt so bad I couldn't do much blogging. I just wanted to be alone and get past this. (Because really, what can anyone do? We're all helpless in this.) As much as I feel better now, I still have a desire to record and document the difficult times. Whether it's for myself or others, I don't always know. Probably both. At times like yesterday, I felt scared - when in the midst of the nausea and headaches I don't know when it will end. During those times a part of me is thinking, frantically, "I don't know how much more of this I can take!" I know why people in intolerable situations want to and do dissociate. It's too much. And I know why people who have survived cancer "forget" aspects of the experience. The impulse to get away from it, far, far away -- by dissociation or forgetting -- is powerful and feels like the only sane thing to do.

Yesterday all I could eat was yogurt and small portions of chicken fried rice. Everything else was completely repulsive. Sweets and sugary foods are of the devil! LP, the nurse practitioner said only the first 3 days of nausea are due to the chemo; after that it's "heartburn." She said the chemo wreaks havoc with my entire digestive system. Apparently, as the chemo does its work, all fast-growing cells in my digestive tract (and elsewhere too) are killed. As these cells are sloughed off, acid forms. All I know is whether it's called "heartburn" or side effects of chemo, it FEELS like nausea and IS nausea. I did tell myself though, that eating would help, so I ate my portions of chicken fried rice, "willing myself" to neutralize the acid in my system. Today I believe I may be able to eat more normally.

I continue to feel uplifted by phone calls and emails from SWB, HB, BD, EAK, MI, TB, and others. Thank you! It makes a difference!

Today I'm really hoping Dan and I will get to Boggy Creek Farm to see the chickens and, if we're lucky, get some eggs! I love it there.

Can't Sleep

My first time on the computer today. I've been thoroughly fatigued and spent the day resting. Tonight I drifted off, then when Dan came to bed I woke up and haven't been able to get back to sleep. I feel some self-imposed pressure to "be well" tomorrow to see a client and run my group. I want to be asleep right now but it's impossible to find a position to lie in that's comfortable for more than a moment. My head is hot, then cold, then hot again; my body the same. I put on my fuzzy hat, take it off, put it on again -- all in a matter of seconds. My head was aching slightly -- not horribly but enough to keep me awake. I change positions constantly, forever seeking a position I can tolerate.

Here now, alert and typing, I feel a bit better. Maybe it's feeling connected with the other people accompanying me on this journey that helps, knowing that this entry will be read by someone who cares about me or understands this experience. And maybe it's actively choosing to do something that engages my mind, heart, and body -- instead of passively allowing my body's idiosyncratic pains, discomforts, and hellish concerns to define my status. I still have some choices in all this. Once again, my blog is a friend and a connection to the bigger world.

I do believe I will get back to sleep. Until then, meditating is good. My fellow meditators help keep me on this path.

An exercise I like do to and would often do even before the cancer is "Five Things I'm Grateful For." Here they are right now:
1) That my headache is better.
2) That I have EZ and RR in my life.
3) That I have friends and family who care about me.
4) The quietness of this still night.
5) That I have a private room in which to meditate.

Rough Day

I spent all day in bed today, trying to stave off the nausea and just rest. Any sleep feels precious -- it's a relief from consciousness. Now, after midnight, I'm feeling somewhat better. I still try to avoid any sudden movements. I don't feel like myself and that's disconcerting. The most ambitious thing I did today was unload the dishwasher. Then back to bed. Reading takes too much concentration.

PF brought over some wonderful chicken tortilla soup yesterday. I've been able to eat little bits and it was great. I continue to feel buoyed up by encouraging words and kindness from friends and family.

Tonight I thought of something I want and need from Dr. S. I've been focused, too much, on being a "good" noncomplaining patient. Next time I see him I intend to tell him I need to hear encouraging words from him. To get through this more easily, I need more than his medical expertise; I need to hear him say "You're doing well! You're going to get through this!" I want to hear it BIG -- whether he believes it or not, I need to hear him say, "You're amazing, you're doing it! You're going through hell and you're surviving. I'm proud of you! "

When I was having my iron infusion on Friday, at one point the nurse, D, was irritable and unpleasant. I hated having to depend on him for anything. The infusion room is so intimate. All of us patients are in varying degrees of helplessness -- mostly motionless in our recliners, only getting up for the occasional trip to the bathroom, IV pole in tow. My weakest self is showing. I have no energy to wear my wig. I look like a patient. I hate being relegated to that status. I'm used to handling things for myself, making an effort to not be a burden. And now here I am having to need and ask, or debate with myself whether my particular issue is truly warranting a request for help. ...Flash thought: Be more demanding! Become a pain in the ass by choice and let the chips fall where they may! ...I'm scared to do that.

It's Back

The almost constant nausea, headaches and lack of appetite are back. Ugh. ...I'm telling myself it will get better. It did last time.

I've been in bed, TV on most of the day, hoping it will lull me to sleep. The occasional distraction of watching the screech owl nestbox and sometimes seeing Screechie is a pleasant diversion. Dan is helpful. I just need to ride this out.

Iron Infusion Tomorrow

I'm done with today's chemo. It went okay. Tomorrow I'll go back to the oncology center for 5 hours of an iron infusion. Although this will be time consuming, I feel good knowing that this should help me feel better. I've been anemic for a year or more and the iron may help get my hemoglobin back to normal.

Chemo #3...

...will start tomorrow at 8:30 a.m. It's about 9:00p.m. and I'm about to leave work. Just ran my group. Dan should be home when I get there. Yippee!

I got to watch our screech owl take a bath in the birdbath yesterday. I'd never seen an owl so close up for such a long time. Very cute.

I may think of our screech owl tomorrow when they're poking me with a needle.

Holding Pattern

Another good day. I worked a full day today and will work through Wednesday, running my group Wednesday night. I'm waiting for Dan (back Wed.) and for chemo (on Thurs.). Doing my best to live in the present but having the feeling that the other shoe may be about to drop. There's also this other feeling of "Maybe I won't have any bad symptoms this time."

When I came home today from work there was another wrapped present (a hat!) in my mailbox. I think I know the secret giver. The hat is adorable -- pink and fuzzy. My head will be well adorned, whether with wigs or hats.

I do miss Dan. He's part of what makes this experience bearable for me. I want him to rub his hand over my head. And I want him back by my side for whatever happens next.

...Hopefully we'll be able to watch our little owls fledge soon.

For the most part, I am feeling quite lucky and fortunate today. I'm well-fed, I have shelter, a rewarding job, and people who love me. And, believe it or not, I feel I have my health. Today I do! (Good energy, no nausea, and no headaches.) ...I know people who have it much harder.

A reminder from LT: "Pay it forward."

Good Use for My Bald Head...

...listening and dancing to Devo's "Whip It." "...When a problem comes along, you can whip it!" Yes, that's what I intend to do!

I'm still feeling good. At home, alone this evening I'm okay with being bald. I like the way I look. There's no one to see me but me. And I have no complaints healthwise right now. I'm seeing this as one chapter in my life. Bought some "skinny-ass" jeans yesterday since all my jeans were too big. I may outgrow these when the chemo is over. For now I'm going to buy and enjoy what's flattering instead of wearing baggy jeans that look sloppy and detract from my self-esteem. I'm also getting a new wig -- one that's a long, rather flouncy bob. I plan to enjoy the flounce. Dan will be back Wednesday. I'm going to flirt with my husband!

Went to DC's memorial today. His death was so untimely, shocking and painful for so many. He impacted my life for the better. The world doesn't feel right without him in it.

My next chemo (#3) will be this coming Thursday. I almost feel dissociated from the Jane who goes for chemotherapy, who shows up where all the other bald people go, gets blood taken, sucked out of my port. (Who is that Jane? ...I don't want to know!) ...I DID NOT LIKE being drugged on Benadryl! It felt creepy. I didn't feel like me.

Note to self: need to/want to keep my regular meditation practice going. Keep reading "Shambhala: the Sacred Path of the Warrior."

Doing Well

I am continuing to feel good. Worked a full, long day yesterday. ...When I came home there was a surprise in my mailbox -- a very cute, very colorful pillbox-style hat! It looks Tibetan. ...Hmmm, the mystery person who left it didn't leave a clue. I'm trying to figure out who it was.

Whoever you are, thank you!

On an Upswing

I'm feeling good. Yesterday I mowed the front lawn. (Hooray!) Then went to the art fair, "Handmade Austin Women." Loved hearing the clucking of chickens and crowing of a rooster near the studio. I have energy and want to do things. Feel a need to get things done -- bring some order to the chaos that happens when I'm sick and barely functioning. I want to work, pay bills, go through the mail, and connect with friends and family before the next slam of chemo hits me.

And somehow I need to counsel myself the next time I'm in that horrible, miserable place of suffering ...that it will pass.

Much Better!

This is the best I've felt in 9 days. I'm happy as a clam.

Exhausted, But Encouraged

I am utterly exhausted. The week has zapped my energy.

I'm aware that when I encounter people throughout the the day who ask about my status, I tend to say I'm doing well. I'm selective about who I tell if I'm feeling bad. Part of me hesitates to make people worry. Another part wants people to worry. The helpless, hopeless feeling makes me desperate. Often, what I most want it to have someone join me and stay emotionally present when I feel overwhelmed or frightened, to not run away and leave me alone with these difficult emotions. I do have the fear that if I tell someone how really awful I'm feeling in a given moment, they'll flee as fast as they can by physically leaving, changing the subject, or making a joke. That potential abandonment is something I try to protect myself from by sharing only small bits of the bad times. The truth is, I want the people closest to me to respond and react, to have feelings about this awful thing that has been visited upon me. It's also true that how I'm feeling can change by the minute. I am blessed that I have a few people I can tell, cry to (and with) if I'm worried and frightened.

I got some good news at the oncologist's office today. The nurse practitioner, LP, told me my immunity is good right now, better than it had been a week after my first chemo. She was optimistic and encouraging and I was very ready to accept her encouragment. (I remember at my first appointment with the oncologist when Dan and I were listening to the details of my condition. Dan said to me later that he wanted to ask the doctor, "And can you now tell us some good news?") It felt great that I could be open with LP about how rotten I'd been feeling and ask her my questions. She helped me feel more hopeful and some of her answers were downright surprising -- in a good way!

It bothers me that I've lost more weight. I was 97 lbs. today at the doctor's office, 6 lbs. lighter than the last time they'd weighed me. I have now been prescribed Nexium to help with upset stomach. I am determined to keep my weight up or to make it go back up. I've been given carte blanche to eat whatever appeals to me. Interestingly, what's often palatable is spicy foods -- Thai or hot Italian. Can't stand sweets right now.

Sick of the wig!! Hurts my head and my ears. Damn you, stupid wig!

I will relax and take it easy this weekend. May watch "It's Complicated." Falling asleep and staying asleep isn't always easy. For the last 2 nights I've been listening to tapes of "The Sweet Potato Queens' Book of Love." Listening to something amusing brings me comfort. And eventually I drift off...

Made it Through the Day

My work day is done and it feels good to be home. My energy started out quite low this morning but is better now. It felt good to get some things accomplished at work. Conducted a formal evaluation with a supervisee (for graduate school), saw some clients, and rested in between.

Love/hate relationship with my wig. After having spent almost 4 solid days at home with my cap on instead of my wig, it felt odd to put it on to go to work. I looked in the mirror this morning and thought I looked nice. ...Next thought: "You imposter!"

I'll go back for a follow-up appointment tomorrow at the oncologist's. They'll check my blood levels. I'll ask about additional antinausea medications. Since my immunity will be at it's lowest over the next few days I'll try to stay home as much as possible over the weekend. Claire M has said she will bring me dinner on Saturday. How lovely.

I do believe Screechie is sitting on eggs. ...And the titmice definitely have a family in the nest box. Lots of little cheeps.

Better Today

I rested this morning and plan to go in to work. I'm feeling better. I'm touched by your responses to my blog, Hope and Mary, and I want to ease your minds. I'm breathing well and the nausea is subsiding.

My Two Worlds

I live in two worlds now -- my survival world and my workaday world. The first is truly that, all about survival. It involves the cancer, the chemo treatments and the aftermath. The second world is the one I navigate when I put on my wig, leave the house and go about making a living, participating in society, passing for "normal." For the past 3 1/2 days I've been living in the first world, consumed by doing whatever it takes to stay alive. I didn't know the nausea would be so thoroughly incapacitating. I now believe that unless someone has been through the seemingly endless experience of hour upon hour of nausea, they just won't get it. And why would they want to???? It's a feeling of "IWILLDOANYTHINGTOSTOPTHENAUSEA!!"

I had phone conversations today with two dear friends, BB and JS. I wanted to talk with them about what their wives had done to combat nausea when they had cancer. I was comforted and encouraged by what I learned. There is hope.

Later this evening GC phoned. In the midst of our call I felt a wave of fear about my cancer, about my status and the unknown. (I had a stomach ache today, does that mean I'm creating more cancer in my stomach?) I began sobbing, wanting to connect with him, wanting him to know my fear even though there was nothing he or I could do but ride it out. I mentioned that our family had a way of rushing in quickly to "put a cherry on bad news." I felt a sense of urgency and told him of my need right then for him to just let the bad news be bad news for a while -- and to endure it with me. ...He did. And I am grateful.

It felt so satisfying to connect with BB. His sanity and groundedness soothed me and allowed me to feel trusting of my own instincts again. As my one of my first bosses ever and my first meditation instructor, he has been a pillar in my life throughout the years. Our contacts may be infrequent, but the mutual warmth and caring are there. Later I meditated, felt better. I am re-reading bits and pieces of "Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior." May as well go back to the basics.

The statement I hold most dear today is: "We have to accept personal responsibility for uplifting our lives." (Chogyam Trungpa)

Hanging In There

Today's a little easier. I think yesterday was the hardest day so far.

Napping, moving very little, I'm getting through.

This Is Hard

I'm in survival mode. Just treading water, doing my best to tolerate the nausea and headaches, knowing that eventually they will pass. Not pleasant. I'm sleeping, resting as much as I can. Hopefully tomorrow will be easier.

Feeling Crappy

Not feeling so great. Having some nausea and headaches -- not excruciating, just continuous. Taking the various antinausea meds.

Some useful news -- at the oncology center they told me that the feelings of nausea are the worst for the first 3 days of each chemo. ...So after today or tomorrow, this nausea should get better.

Now, hopefully to nap, sleep.

Successful Completion

I'm home now after a successful chemo day. It was a bit questionable this morning as I waited to hear if my platelet levels would be good enough for me to have the infusion (chemo). Fortunately, they were okay. The nurse practitioner, LP, told me my levels are running consistently high (a bit too high), and this is something that the chemo may actually be exacerbating. LP was wonderful, had a warm, caring bedside manner and answered my questions as if she had all the time in the world for me. It also helped to know that she was LM's nurse back years ago and that they had a great connection. I feel much better having her as part of my treatment team, like I won't have to work so hard to advocate for myself. And my dignity, my worthiness of respect were never in question.

I'm so glad to have treatment #2 out of the way! And it was lovely to have a stream of company during the day. Now I'm taking the new, fancy-ass antinausea medication. So far, it's working. ...And I'm back to taking Prenisone again for 5 days. Ugh.

I'm hoping to rest for the remainder of the evening. My duties for the day are over.

Tomorrow: Chemo #2

I worked late tonight at the office, trying to get as many things done as possible since I'm not sure how I'll be feeling after tomorrow. I learned today that in order to have the expected chemo treatment my platelet count has to be good enough. Good Lord. I just want to move forward with this thing -- I don't want any roadblocks. So now my hope and desire is that when they take my blood tomorrow, they'll tell me that I'm in good enough shape to have chemo.

I've got a new prescription for an antinausea medication. It's $100 per pill! Better be good.

Tomorrow I will meditate early in the morning before I go to the oncology center. And I will take with me all the good vibes and wishes from friends and family.

Now it's time to watch "What Not to Wear!"

I Want to Keep the Eyebrows and Lashes

More hair came out in the shower this morning. I was in a hurry to get to work, so I couldn't take all the time I needed to wipe out the tub. I figured it would be there for me when I came home. There's still this curiosity about it as I repeatedly wipe my hands over my wet scalp and with each wipe, lots of little hairs come out. Over and over again. Eventually there will be no more to come out. (Prayer to the Chemo God: please let me keep my eyelashes and eyebrows -- you can take all the other hair, just leave those intact.)

I've had this debate going on in my head for a few days. I'm a bit intimidated by Dr. S and I've wondered if he will take me as seriously if I show up on Thursday with a hat on my bald head. ...Or will I get better treatment if I wear my wig and can pass for "normal and healthy"? I want to be a real person to Dr. S, not just another cancer patient. When I'm thinking straight, I tell myself that it's my own personal comportment that will get me the kind of care and respect I want and deserve. In my emotionally weaker moments I'm aware of feeling more vulnerable with Dan gone and with no one there to stand up for me but ME.

This evening after work I went to the bookstore and purchased a copy of "Grace and Grit" by Ken Wilber. It's a nonfiction book about the journey of Ken and Treya Wilber through her bout with cancer. I'd bought this book about 10 years ago, had only started it and then gave it away. It was too long and too much. Now I'm curious but have something of an approach-avoidance interest in the book. I'm totally captivated by the cover photo of the two of them -- both looking so attractive. I know that Treya dies. I believe I will outlive this cancer that I have, so I'm not completely sure I want to read about her death. At least not now.

But it's the photo that gets me and excites me. Treya is beautiful in her bald head -- smiling and in love with her husband. She looks unapologetic. And that's the way I want to be with my bald head -- whether it's with Dr. S, in the grocery store, book store, on the street or with friends: here I am, naked head and all.

Wonderful Weekend

This has been a wonderful weekend. I got to see several of the "Friday Fems" on Friday -- all but EK. (I missed you!) And later getting together with BD was fun -- pizza on Friday night and then an art show last night.

This morning I decided to mow the lawn. My energy has been so good for the past few days that I thought I'd give it a try. I wore my purple cap (sans wig) and a face mask to keep the pollen and particles out of my lungs. It worked beautifully. At one point I was also wearing earplugs and sunglasses. I may have looked strange to any passersby, but I allowed myself the defense of feeling somewhat invisible to others. I suppose there was also a bit of a "f**k you" feeling: "Yes, I'm mowing the lawn and I know I look weird, but deal with it!" No one said a word. The truth is, I feel quite proud. I like mowing the lawn and it felt so good to be doing this normal thing, seeing the progress I made with every step. The lawn looks great and I feel happy.

I went on a bit of a shopping spree this weekend too. Bought some new clothes that I'm eager to wear. (Loved seeing KH this morning! That delightful visit is part of what made the weekend so good.)

My Media "Cancer Friends"

Last night I stayed up late watching several old episodes of "Sex and the City." I had specifically wanted to watch the shows where Samantha is dealing with breast cancer. My friend CM had recently reminded me of the episode where Samantha's boyfriend at the time, Smith, shaves his head in solidarity with her. I had forgotten all about that even though I'd watched and enjoyed the series years ago. CM had been touched by Smith's overture and it was her emotional response that made me want to go back and revisit Samantha's cancer. It has new meaning for me now -- would she cry? Be angry? Crabby or wickedly funny?

I felt joined when I watched the episodes. It was affirming to me to see Samantha in the infusion room with her friends, sitting in the recliner as red liquid dripped into her vein. I too have a red chemical that goes in, followed by a few bags of clear stuff. And as for the head shave -- for those moments, watching the show, I had a "friend" who understood. Samantha began shaving her own head when her hair started falling out. And Smith jumped right in, grabbed the razor and shaved off his own long locks. ...Dan has offered to shave his head, but I don't know that I really want him to. I like his hair and as much as I'm touched by his offer, I don't know if I need that to make me feel supported by him. He does so many other things that make me feel loved and cared for. When I got my head shaved he repeatedly said how beautiful I looked, even with my bare head. That made me feel wonderful. I believed him -- and I felt beautiful in his eyes and my own.

Now it's different. The bald spots on my scalp don't feel beautiful. Sometimes they're items of curiosity -- like the hole your tongue keeps exploring after a tooth is pulled; sometimes they're a bit scarey.

A few days ago John Kelso wrote about his cancer in his column in the American-Statesman. It's been about a year since he was diagnosed with cancer. He went through 6 weeks of radiation and now is cancer-free and doing well. I'm so glad! When he wrote about how he would feel like hell for long stretches, getting only momentary relief when he would write his column, I could really understand. When I'm feeling utterly awful, I'm heartened when I can write my blog, share my experiences, and feel connected with my friends and family who come to these pages. Carry on, John Kelso! You're a survivor and I want to join you in that club!

It's Really Coming Out Now

Got home from work tonight and rolled one of those sticky lint removers across my head. Lots of little dark brown quarter-inch hairs stuck to it. I gasped -- I hadn't expected so many to come out. Just looking at my head, you might not notice much difference from a few days ago. But the slightly balding patches of my scalp are sore. I don't like that. And I really don't want a shiny bald head.

I got to get my head shaved on my terms. But now, the little hairs on my head falling out is on Chemo's terms. Bit by bit, my denial is getting eroded. And yet, I also want to hold on to some denial . To face it all at once, to BELIEVE the things I'm going to have to go through would drive me mad. I refuse to think much about what my 4th chemo will feel like or my 5th or 6th. I just need to show up next Thursday, put one foot in front of the other to get through Chemo #2.

Have Appetite, Will Travel!

It's been a good day and I feel content right now. Although I'm not completely over my bronchitis, I was able to work a full day without problem. Slight coughing here and there, but not much. The contrast of having days when I can't work due to illness makes the days when I'm able to work feel fantastic. Dan said something in an email to me about my "liking to work hard." I guess that's true, but my self worth is also very tied up in being able to be a productive member of society. In some of the days over the past few weeks when I couldn't work I felt depressed about being "out of the loop" of the world and a noncontributor to society. I felt like the tree in the forest that falls over when no one is around.

Seeing my clients and friends does make me feel alive and come alive.

I had a wonderful Thai dinner with TB tonight. It was so much fun to eat and talk, get caught up. I ate like it was going out of style! And while I have my appetite, I've been trying to schedule some lunches and brunches with friends over the next week, up until my next chemo. I realize that a lot of my most fun socializing with friends and family involves food. So when I don't feel like eating, my social life suffers. I want to "stock up" on visits with friends and good meals and hold on to the good vibes for the challenging times ahead.

I am still enjoying my beautiful, oak pollen-free porch and walkway. EK's son TK did a magnficent job of sweeping and bundling up all the oak pollen crap. It was such a mess. I came home yesterday to a pristine walk and 2 huge and heavy bags of oak droppings!

Back to Work

I'm back at work. My cough, bronchitis situation isn't completely gone but it's so-o-o much better! I can talk again. Had a pretty good night's sleep.

A Day of No Talking

I'm hoping I can have a day of no talking today as I give my voice a rest. (Emails are still welcome!) I didn't sleep as well as I'd hoped last night, but I did get a few continuous hours, and that's the best I've had in 4 nights. I can feel the antibiotic working to break up my congestion. I had some break-through coughing early this morning as it was getting close to time for my next dose. But now, as I type, I'm not coughing and my breathing is the best it's been in days.

I need to make one outing today -- to go pick up my taxes from my accountant. I won't need to talk much, but don't really feel like putting on my wig. I'm glad I have such a good wig -- one that looks natural and very much like my own hair. But it gets tiring to wear it. It's uncomfortable around my ears -- first I want the mesh of the wig under my ears, then over them. If it's under them, my ears feel cold; if it's over them, my ears feel mashed to my head. The first day I wore it at work I could only tolerate it for about 2 hours at a time. Behind closed doors, I would pull it off. My head was cold and I didn't have my fuzzy warm cap, so I wrapped my head in a shawl. When I'm at home resting or relaxing I usually wear my cap.

Saw a red-bellied woodpecker in the back yard this morning -- beautiful! Dan would be happy.

Relieved and Encouraged ...After Another Hard Night

Last night was another awful night. Not due to chemo side effects but this unrelated upper respiratory congestion and coughing I've been having. Minimal sleep, couldn't get comfortable for more than about 5 seconds at a time. It was making me depressed and scared -- feeling that I just couldn't get back to feeling somewhat normal again. I was lonely. Coughing alone, turning on the lights alone, heating up some salt water alone for a nasal irrigation, and wishing, wishing, wishing I could just fall asleep for a couple of uninterrupted hours.

I saw my regular doctor this afternoon and now feel encouraged. He said he thought what I have is likely to be the early stages of bronchitis. The good news: he gave me 2 prescriptions -- an antibiotic and a cough syrup with codeine. Both are supposed to make me drowsy. (Hooray!) So I'm hoping to have a better night's sleep tonight. And I'll be very happy if the antibiotic knocks this nasty congestion out of my system.

I am full of drugs. I am a chemical soup! And the usual things I would take in the past -- various supplements and vitamins -- are now verboten for fear they would interfere with the chemo.

Today I called to get information about support groups and "buddy" parings for chemo patients. I'd like to have a buddy I could stay in touch with as we each go through this process.

Saw "Screechie," our screech owl this afternoon poking her head out of the owl box out back. Very cute! We think she's sitting on eggs.

More Photos from the Head Shave

Two Rough Nights

Last night and the night before were very hard. This time, instead of nausea, I was suffering from allergies -- coughing and headachy all night long. Sometimes it was hard to breathe. I barely slept. And I know that first night I must have kept Dan awake a lot too. Now he's gone back to the ship. I tried sleeping on the couch where I could prop up and elevate my chest. I'll try that again tonight and will take Benedryl.

It still doesn't feel real that I have cancer. Even with my head shaved and the nausea, headaches, and weakness (which thankfully, were much better today), I still have this fuzzy belief that this isn't really happening. It was helpful to me that Dan said he felt the same way -- that when Texas Oncology calls and leaves a message reminding me of an upcoming appointment we each want to say "You've made a mistake. Why are you calling here?!!"
.
I got in touch with some anger today about all this -- angry that I have to have this cancer -- why not FP instead?! or any of my friends?! or enemies?! or Oprah?! Why me, goddammit!! I hate this and it's not fair! I want my normal life back. ...And one thing I'm sure of -- I want to be seen as MORE than this stupid cancer -- in many ways, pretty much the same person I was before with all my quirks, interests, loves, mannerisms and flaws.


...As I type this, I hear the TV in the background with Charlie Robison singing "...I'll see you around... 'round my home town." It's the Texas Oncology advertisement. I used to not even pay much attention to the ad except for the music, which I like. But I just assumed I was not one of those "cancer people." And now I am known at Texas Oncology. I'm in their "system." I have a case number.

Glad, glad, glad I have friends and family members who are survivors who are further along the way with this process. They made it to healing and recovery. I need that.

Check Out the Mohawk

Tah-dah!

Goodbye Hair!

I'm going to do it today. At 9:30 a.m. I'll be getting my head shaved. Dan will go with me and MS will come as well and take photos. Thank you, MS! Blog followers, friends, and family: please think of me.

I still feel half-way in denial about the head shave. When will the reality sink in? Rationally, I know I am not my hair; I'm more than my hair. And the fact that it will grow back makes this feel much more tolerable.

Today, right now, I'm having a "good hair day." Dan got out his camera and took a couple of shots of us.

It's time to go.

Next time I write I expect to be bald.

It's So Unpredictable

I had thought I might be feeling better by now, 6 days after the first chemo. But my energy level and feeling of overall sickness/wellness seem to come and go at their own whim. This is hard -- nausea, headaches, constipation, total lack of appetite and utter fatigue. I had thought surely I'd be up for going to brunch at our neighbors' this morning, but now I'm not so sure. I really want to go! I can certainly relate to what my brother-in-law said about his cancer and his energy -- when he'd mow the lawn he'd mow one strip, take a rest, and then mow another strip, then rest again. That's how I've been this morning with a few minor chores. When I have a small burst of pep it's a great feeling. I just never know how long it will last.

Tomorrow I'll see Dr. S, will have my labwork done and get a chicken pox vaccine. I'll ask him for some input on these annoying, sometimes incapacitating problems.

Most fun part of last night: downloading and then dancing with Dan to Nancy Sinatra singing "Sugartown"!

Sleep, Glorious Sleep!

I slept well last night. Hooray! And I feel good right now. I took my Prednisone (yuck) and will take the rest of my meds in a little bit.

I'm going to work today!

No Shaved Head Today

I felt lousy most of the day and rescheduled most of my apointments. I spent much of the day on the couch. Had a nice visit from HB. Dan showed her the screech owl out back.

Didn't feel well enough to get my head shaved. I feel a bit disappointed in myself -- this was to be my project for the day and I couldn't do it. I hope to do it on Monday. Still want to do it before Dan leaves.

After hours of mild symptoms, it sometimes feels hard to tell the difference between "mild" nausea and "urgent" nausea. ...I had a few blessed moments of no nausea and no headaches today.

Tomorrow is my last day of Prednisone for a while -- hooray! (I hate it -- it tastes awful.)

Rough Night Last Night

Yesterday after my morning commitments I felt like a walk up Mount Bonnell. It was hot and I was overdressed, but it felt good to be in the open air and look out over the river and peaceful mansions. Then I went to Central Market, saw a woman with a lovely scarf on her head and what appeared to be a bald head underneath. I commented on her scarf, (she said her husband got it for her at Saks), and we struck up a little conversation. Told her I'll be getting my head shaved today. She said she has only 2 more chemos to go.

Last night was hard. I worked as much of the day as I could. Got sick. Medicine not working. I may not go in to work today. I'm hoping unsweetened yogurt is a safe food.

Good news -- our screech owls seem to be hanging out in our back yard and are content in the nest box.

Feeling a Bit Icky

Didn't sleep much last night. I guess the steroids they pumped through me were keeping me up. Around 3:45 a.m. I was able to nod off a bit. It helps to listen to some lecture or workshop on tape, something to take my mind off myself.

The nausea and fatigue have really kicked in. Today I went to work, saw my clients but I felt tired. Then, unexpectedly I got a call from the oncology clinic saying I needed to come in this afternoon for a shot. I had hoped to just go home to rest, but I went in and got the shot, (Neulasta), something to boost my white blood count.

I made an appointment for Thursday, (day after tomorrow!) to get my head shaved. I no longer feel ready. I really like my own real hair and I don't want to part with it. And now the idea of being bald feels so permanent; the novelty has worn off. But I do want Dan to see me with my shaved head before he goes back to sea. He'll go with me on Thursday. I plan to take some pictures, complete with me in a Mowhawk. May as well enjoy the ride.

...The nausea medication seems to be working. Good!

I'm Tired, But Done with Chemo Day One

I had my first chemo today. I was at the clinic for 9 hours. I'm doing okay but am ready to rest, hoping to fend off nausea. I gained 3 1/2 lbs. today from the drugs and lack of activity! I ate somewhat indulgently (had some hot chocolate this morning, tortilla soup for lunch and some small cookies this afternoon). Dinner was more modest. I'll have to see how my body responds. At bedtime, which may be very soon, I'll take the Phenergan to prevent nausea and help me sleep.

The nurses were good, helpful and thorough. A few seats away from me a young woman who was having her final chemo treatment for breast cancer had a little goodbye celebration, complete with cascarones (confetti eggs), pictures taken with the medical team, and ice cream for everyone in the infusion room. On her way out, she rang a bell and a windchime mounted on the wall for this very purpose. Truly a great way to leave this experience! I look forward to my own ringing of the bell and happy (victorious!) goodbye pictures.

It was wonderful to have visits from LM and LW today. There are definitely some good things coming of this cancer. I believe I can learn to be a better friend to others by seeing how good it feels to be on the receiving end of this kindness and love. I even got a phone call from HC -- amazing.

I can go to bed happy tonight. Tomorrow I'll see three clients, Buddha willing!

Tomorrow is the Day

Tomorrow I'll have my first chemotherapy. I've been told it will be a long day. I'll start at 8:30a.m. and be done about 6-8 hours later. I got to talk with LM today about her experiences. That was helpful. She said it isn't painful when they draw blood from the portacath (hooray -- this had been one of my fears) and that the chemo drip and other procedures were not really painful at all for her. What a relief.

...It's funny the minor things that bring me pleasure in the midst of this ordeal: I'm glad I can dress casual tomorrow and not wear make-up. No work attire for me! And, if I'm drowsy from the Benedryl they give me, I can just sit back, relax, watch TV and doze. I did buy a new book to take with me. It's Julie Powell's new memoir, "Cleaving," about her apprenticeship learning the art of butchering and the rollercoaster ride of her marriage.

I will wear the protection bracelet that RM made for me that has the group's energy in it. And as LM suggested, I plan to visualize the chemo as healing, loving energy streaming into my body to make me well. What I'm hearing from L is: to take care of myself, take it easy, don't demand of myself the kind of work schedule I might if none of this were happening. (The truth is, I would also like to do some art again soon.)

Dan and I went dancing last night at the Broken Spoke. It was great fun. I have accomplished one of my dreams. Dan actually enjoyed it too. Who knows, maybe we'll go again.

And now, to sleep.

Cancer is a Pain in the Ass ...and So Am I

JK was helping me the other day when I was hooked up to medical devices. The clinic staff were putting various liquids into my IV. I was uncomfortable and needed assistance; JK wanted things to go quickly and smoothly, which they weren't. When I asked her to reach over the tubes and grab my purse, I heard her mutter under her breath, "...pain in the ass!" In an instant, I heard my own angry response, "Okay, I'll do it myself!" For one hot moment, we hated each other.

I wasn't sure if JK meant I was the pain in the ass or if she was referring to the whole crazy cancer mess.

I learned early on to try not to be a pain in the ass -- to stop coughing on command, to be obedient, to agree, accommodate and not rock the boat. Now the lesson I want to learn is that I'm just simply going to be a pain in the ass sometimes. With or without the cancer, I am sometimes a pain in the butt. I want to accept that. I want to resist my reflexive urge to alter who I am. Instead of working so hard -- with JK and others -- to be low-maintenance, agreeable and without flaws, I want to be authentically me. Sometimes I am needy, messy, inconvenient, irritable, tired, unsexy, demanding. I want to learn to live peacefully (and unapologetically!) with these parts of me.

I Am Blessed/I Am Scared

I just got off the phone with HB. A wonderful call. She lifted my spirits. It's so cheering to laugh together. Without a doubt, I am very fortunate to have such a wealth of supportive friends.

I'm up later than usual on a weeknight and I'm enjoying breaking my own self-imposed rules...(Go to bed after the 10 o'clock news. Stop all stimulating activity at 10:30 and get in the mindset of preparing for a busy day at work tomorrow.) No! Talk and laugh with H instead!

I'm not going to work tomorrow. I'm going to spend 6 hours having an iron infusion. Dan and I will take reading materials, a sack lunch and maybe my laptop to entertain and sustain us for a day in the infusion room. ....I'm scared of having the tape over my stitches ripped off, yanking my tender, barely healing skin. I'm afraid of a nurse or technician saying, "Oh, no problem --rip, rip, rip!!!" H suggested I tell them my fear and I think I will. I feel some revulsion when I look at my incisions. Someone has SEWED on me!

Tried on a few wigs today and found one I really like! I wanted to buy it on the spot, but decided to wait to see if I can get my oncologist to write me a prescription for a "cranial prosthesis." Yep, that's medical talk for "wig." Honestly, this wig was so cute and manageable I liked it better than my own hair. And the price, quite reasonable at $235.

Ready for Bald/Ready for a Wig

I hurt now in 2 places -- in my belly from my incision where the tumor was removed, and at my collarbone where my surgeon implanted a portacatheter. Sometimes I'm able to go about my daily affairs -- work, errands, phonecalls -- and forget about the pain. At other times, it's very present in my mind...and I'm tired of it.

Today Dan and I went to a "chemo class" at 8:00 a.m. at the oncology center. We sat with a few other patients and partners listening to the nurse tell us what she's undoubtedly told dozens of other people before us: how to sign in for each appointment, who gets to access the portacath (not the ER), how to prepare for the 6-hour stint of sitting while chemicals drip into a vein. Bring a lunch, bring a blanket. And, yes, you can take your IV pole with you to go to the bathroom; and no, you can't take your IV and go outside for a smoke!

Some part of me wants to go ahead and shave my head. I know I'll be getting a wig fairly soon, and although I still have all my hair, the wig event seems like one of the few potentially very fun aspects of all this. I want to go wig shopping! I'm truly curious about what I'll look like bald. And perhaps this is one small way I can have some control and power in an otherwise out-of-control and powerless situation.

Lymphoma Diagnosis

I'm new to blogging, but what better time to start than now? It was less than 3 weeks ago when I learned that I "probably" had lymphoma. Stomach pain and internal bleeding which I'd had briefly in late December had seemed to go away, so I thought maybe my problems were over...or at least were minor.

I never expected to learn that I had cancer. NonHodgkins lymphoma. On Monday, March 1st, 2 days before my 56th birthday I had surgery to remove about 8 inches of my small bowel, including a growth that was about the size of my surgeon's fist. (At my request, they saved a photo for me.) The pathology report confirmed the diagnosis. Several tests and procedures later, I'm now awaiting news from the oncologist about what stage my cancer is in.

This blog will chart my journey, hopefully a path to "bountiful," a place on the other side of lymphoma.