Good article on couples facing cancer together

Here's a great article from the NYTimes on couples facing cancer together.

Twenty-five down, three to go!

Nearing the end of my radiation/chemo phase. I've been really lucky not to have experienced most of the side effects. I'm still working and still active. These last three treatments will blast the area of the tumor.

Then surgery in early August. I'll try not to think about that while I can and enjoy spring/summer while I can!

P.S. - How do you like my ugly graphic?

Tattoos and graffiti

I don't really understand the extent that people go to now with their tattoos. And don't even talk to me about all of those piercings and ear plugs. Honestly people, what is it going to look like when you're over 50 years old? I'm dating myself, but growing up, the only people who had tattoos were ex-cons, bikers and sailors. Some tattoos I see are so elaborate, I don't know how any one could stay still for so long? I told David the only tattoo I could stand to get would be a dot. Well, guess what? I now have, not one, but three dot tattoos. They were placed on my lower hips and center belly so the technicians could line me up for my radiation. And every time I get x-rays or radiation, they make marks on me (sometimes threatening to make smiley faces but no one but David would see) like a graffiti tagger in the middle of the night.

Am I hip now or what?

(Don't answer that. I once asked David if I got a pierced nose if I would look younger. He said I'd look like an old lady with a nose piercing!)

Treats for the staff

I mentioned that when David was getting chemo I went into a baking frenzy Sunday afternoons. We had a rainy day on Sunday so I was able to whip something up for the oncology radiation staff. It's from this NYTimes recipe with a couple of changes. I used a combination of ginger thins and speculoos for the crust and pecans instead of walnuts. The crew was very appreciative! I'd say this recipe is a keeper! (David didn't want me to give any away if that is an indication!)

The last three...but now they are one!

Twenty down, eight more to go

I'm in the home stretch! Five more regular treatments and then three 'blasts' where they really target the growth. 
Up until now my energy has been good. That changed on Friday. I was having lunch with a friend from work and she mentioned that it looked like my treatment was starting to affect me. I replied, like a kid refusing a nap because they are tired, that I felt fine. We had dinner with friends and when I got home I thought I'd lie down for a bit. Three hours later I got up, washed my face and brushed my teeth and went back to bed. David said I still looked tired the next day - harumph! But he did predict that it would be a month before I started feeling the effects, and he was right. (Hear that David? You were right!)
I guess all of this exercise is paying off! I'm still pretty active - with practice tonight I will have played tennis four times this week! Plus my trainer on Monday night. I'm hoping my energy level stays high enough to play in one of my USTA teams last matches, but I'll have to make that decision at the last minute.

So peeps, get out and move! Here's what looks like quick routine in the NYTimes that looked good!

Exercise like you're running from cancer!

I saw this article on CNN today. Basically, your chances of not getting cancer (too late for that!) or for surviving it are boosted by exercise.

I have been a avid exerciser for much of my adult life - cardio, calisthenics, tennis, running. Now I work with a trainer, play tennis and walk (jog if my hip is not bothering me).

I've found some interesting news about tennis. It can help you prevent memory loss! OK, it's not the only sport but it's mentioned in this article! The other story is from RadioLab. Start at the 17:00 point - it's about a woman in a coma who plays tennis in her mind!

It's never too late to get out there and move things around. Just look at this grandma! You have to keep moving in order to live to the fullest!

Cooking and cancer

A more appropriate picture of chef David! Not sure what the occasion was but we were serving on the pheasant dinnerware that my mom gave me.

When David was getting his chemo everyday during the work week, I went into a baking frenzy on Sunday afternoons. It was the best way for me to handle my stress, and to give back to the nurses that took such good care of him. The NYTimes  published an article shortly afterwards that captured my feelings.

*This week, I have an appointment with a dietitian. Perhaps this is because I have had some GI sensitivity, or maybe it's a standard part of treatment. Both David and I are enthusiastic cooks. He learned to cook because his mother didn't, I learned to cook because my mother did. When we need to, we can follow a prescribed diet. After David's second surgery, he had to go on a Chyle leak diet - which is a very low fat diet. We cooked everything extremely low fat, I even made yogurt cheese out of non-fat yogurt so he had something else to spread on toast. I guess what I'm getting at is, what is she going to tell me beyond the BRAT diet? Yes, I know I have a bit of an attitude and everyone at SCCA is doing the best they can to help me through this process and keep me healthy.

We eat as healthy as people can (if not too much). We shop at the farmer's markets year round. By spring I am sick of kale and root vegetables! We get pasture raised beef, chickens, goat and pork. We will make any adjustments that are suggested, but we won't stop cooking! Here is another great article in the Washington Post about cooking and cancer.Warning: Tear jerker!

*Update: I met with the dietitian and we had a good conversation. She said our current eating habits of whole foods (not shopping there!) and cooking for ourselves has probably played a big factor in how well I have been doing with my treatment. For now, I need to avoid things with insoluble fibers - raw veggies, fruit with skin on, fried foods, spicy foods, nuts and seeds. She also cautioned against juicing and other dietary changes. And, I'm supposed to still play tennis! So, despite my attitude, I got some helpful information and shared some with her!

Reality bites!

So, up to this point, the seriousness of my diagnosis has not hit me. When they wanted to schedule a one hour appointment for a 'teach' on taking my oral chemo medication, I said, "You're kidding me, it takes an hour to tell me how to take an oral medication?" The silence on the other end of the phone made me realize I was stupid or rude. Or both, because it did take an hour for them to instruct me, not the action on swallowing it, but all of the side effects and how to counteract each one of them. Things kind of dawned on me when I had to get a refill, and my insurance didn't want me to get it from SCCA. The pharmacist at SCCA said I wouldn't want to pay for it as it cost $5,000 - $6,000 for 84 pills! The insurance company did an override, but I started to think that this stuff I'm taking must be powerful!

At this point, I have really well with the radiation and chemo. Other than some GI sensitivity, I haven't suffered from any of the side effects it took them an hour to explain to me. My schedule has not radically changed and I've been able to work and be active. I've been in a delusional state thinking that maybe this whole thing will pass like a bad dream or a cloudy sky (wait, this is Seattle, cloudy skies don't pass!). Today an appointment for a Flex-Sig came in my inbox. Then I had a message from a scheduler asking when I could set a date for my surgery. Things seemed to come crashing down on me. After surgery, the beginning of August, my way of life will change for the next 6-8 months. David said when these things came up, he felt like a condemned man. I now know how he felt. Reality bites. Bad.

I'm cruising!

No, not one of those disastrous cruise ships or driving up and down the main drag. Dr. Russell, the radiation oncologist, is pleased with how I am doing and says I'll probably cruise through the rest of my treatment with him. Let's hope this is a portent of future treatments.

53% Done

I'm just past the half way mark and still feeling good. Played a USTA match last night, and although my partner and I lost, I felt good about how we played - it was a close match.

Of course, this is the first phase of my treatment. As I get closer to the second phase, my anxiety increases. It's not just the surgery, it's the before and after. Before I'll have to be on a liquid diet for a number of days. Afterwards there's the week in the hospital - I hate hospitals! You have no control, people wandering around all the time asking you the same questions over and over. And then there's the bag, I REALLY have a problem with this. I do have friends who have worn them and will definitely talk to them as to how they dealt with the situation. A number of people have told me that it's better than the alternative or I'll get through it. Well, some people shave their heads in solidarity with someone who has lost their hair through cancer treatments. Would any one like to get a colostomy bag in solidarity with me? Didn't think so.

And, while recovering I'll be away from my tribes - home, work, tennis and foodie friends. I know I won't be  totally isolated, many people want to keep in contact, which I truly appreciate. But losing the daily rhythm I have now feels, again, like I don't have any control.

Am I a closet control freak? Don't think so, I think everyone likes to feel like they are in control, even if it is an illusion.

Off to bake an upside-down rhubarb cake, something I have control over!

Home tribe pride:

Get out and walk!

So today I felt a little down. I looked at the paper work the resident filed out for the company that handles our leave-of-absence cases. The resident had written that my surgery was scheduled for end of June. Well, that doesn't make sense because my radiation/chemo treatments finish the end of May and originally I was told I'd have 8-10 weeks before surgery. I wasn't expecting to undergo surgery so soon.

This is the thing. I've discovered while being in this kind of situation - a little bit of conflicting news, forms to be filled out, a wrong date, duplicate tests - all are sources of anxiety!

Mentally, I have been prepared for my surgery to happen the beginning of August. When I was driving home, I was in a dark mood. I considered just going to bed. But, I've always been active, play tennis, have a great trainer who keeps me in shape, and this time of year; Seattle is gorgeous! So, I got out and took a walk. Lilacs scent the air, rhododendrons jockey for color display, dogwood is blooming - it's incredibly beautiful.

My mood lightened. I realized I can talk to the staff to confirm this date. No need to agonize.*

I bring this up because when I was first diagnosed, I was told I was T3. What does that mean? I was thinking stage 3, and when I went to the Mayo Clinic web site, I freaked out because if I was stage 3, I was in REAL trouble.

So the message is, be very careful to get the right information from the right source. Don't jump to conclusions. Take care of yourself, be gentle, get as much exercise as you can stand.

This is your chance to turn things around.

*[I had a dream about this situation that night. So I called my radiation nurse and met with the resident this morning to have the paper work straightened out. She was, naturally, using the date that my involvement with radiation would end. I find in this kind of situation, you get very attached to routines and dates. In my case, I think it's because I'm trying to get through this, one phase at a time. Having the time line shift is like thinking you're doing a 5K race and then you find out it's a 10K race! Knowing what to expect is very important!]

Back to normal

The weather that is, not me!

Sky this morning:

But there are bright spots!

Good news check up!

Met with my radiologist and medical oncologist today. They are both happy with how I am handling treatment. Since so far I have not had any major side effects from the chemo, the doctor feels I should avoid most of them. The only one I need to look out for is hand and foot syndrome. Everyone is glad my energy level is good, I'm still working and playing tennis (most important!). Symptoms from the radiation are expected to elevate towards the end of this treatment phase, we'll see.

Meanwhile, it's still beautiful outside!

The sky this morning

A local school made national news when it closed on Friday for a Sun Day! A lot of us have felt that we should have sun days as well as snow days (Seattle closes down with just the threat of snow due to our hills and lack of snow plows). The advent of beautiful weather makes people giddy around here!

I am ten treatments down, 18 to go. I'm still feeling good. My radiologist seemed very pleased when I saw him on Friday that I am still working, active and at a good energy level. Tomorrow I see him again, as well as my medical oncologist.

I guess I have to plead ignorance as to how these treatments are supposed to make me feel. They warn you about all sorts of side effects but you never know which ones or when they will hit. I really want to stay involved in 'my' life as much as possible. Going through my course of treatments will take enough time from my regular activities, and I want my transition back into a 'normal' life to be as easy as possible. Plus, I have at least seven appointments a week now, mostly brief, which is enough time to spend focusing on something I don't want to do, but must get through.

We'll see how that all goes.

Went to the last opera of the season last night. Because of the nice weather we were able to drive Maude.

There were two pieces, Sister Angelica & Human Voice. The Human Voice piece was discordant and about a woman talking over the phone to her ex-lover. Spoiler, she kills herself in the end. (Women - no man is worth killing your self! Dump the douche if he doesn't treat you right!) Sister Angelica was quite moving and, spoiler alert, she kills herself in the end also because she finds that the son she had out of wedlock has died. Nothing like some cheery operas to take your mind off of things!

I have some weeds calling my name, off to wage war with the plants I don't want in our yard.

So far, so good

Played tennis last night, so glad my energy has held up. Also talked to my chemo nurse (how about a movie called Chemo Nurses from Hell?). They seemed pleased that I'm tolerating the medication so well. I'm not sure if it's because it's oral rather than infusion, or if it's the type of chemo but I'm glad that so far, everything is good.

I listened to an inspiring story on NPR this morning about a woman injured in the Boston marathon bombing. This is not a case of things could be worst (if you read the WSJ article you'll understand), but a really inspiring story of someone overcoming a terrible physical and emotional injury.

So, everyone, stay active and positive!