9/24/09

Did I really get infusion #2 yesterday?

Thus far my body is aware, but the symptoms are very mild indeed, for which I’m grateful, truly.  B and I spend the day going to accupuncture, getting the neulasta shot to help production of white blood cells, eating wonderful chicken soup and taking a nap with our katz.  D and I walked the course in good stride.  I picked a huge tomato that is almost completely red.

Lasagne for dinner tonight, thanks J.  The meals you all are preparing are amazing and are opening up our family’s palatte nicely!

I am cautious about how good I feel.  I’m resting intentionally.  But sometimes when the horse wants to gallup it’s hard to hold her back!

9/23, Cowgirls, magic, and biblical ironies

Day 1, cycle 2, I think if we were to ask P if she were nervous, or something like it, she would deny it.  But, after these few years, I can detect a layer of subtle anxiety.  I think it is kind of like when sparring and somebody demonstrates that they can land a solid blow on you – at will.  There is a wariness that one develops from that experience.  It doesn’t mean you won’t spar with that partner, but, you have a healthy fear.  I think that is where we are at.  I’m not sure how to create a CowGirl analogy here other than to say that you have to get back on the horse that bucked you off.

The whole hair thing is becoming an interesting issue as well.  It is complex.  I think there are issues of gender identity — many women are their hair in a way like many men are their baldness.  Perhaps it  is a way to obsess over something that doesn’t really matter and so wrangle with the neurosis inherent in poisoning yourself to heal – a distraction.  I think keeping the hair around as long as possible is also a denial – “I’m not really fighting a disease and this isn’t really happening to me.”  Denial and rationalizations are the two sides of the same coin – I think.

From “The Big Chill”:

Michael: “I don’t know anyone who could get through the day without two or three juicy rationalizations. They’re more important than sex.”

Sam Weber: “Ah, come on. Nothing’s more important than sex.”

Michael: “Oh yeah? Ever gone a week without a rationalization?”

P wanted as she does, to turn the head shaving into this big ritual – a circle of family, drumming, probably chanting.  Alas, neither A nor I were really able to accommodate that, E was still in bed, but, he might have been more sensitive.  A dear friend, K,  is taking P and E to Chemo today and another friend, S,  is meeting them there as well.  Full house, therefore, I’m at work.  I suggested to P that she shave when she got home, before the drugs kick her butt – perhaps K and E can help here with that.  I wonder what I will find when I get home?

I have little patience for the Bible, but two stories I like, and they are related, are that of Samson and of the Parable of the Talents – wisdom is where you find it and if you are smart enough to pick it up.

Samson and Delilah Judges xvi, 4-20.

And it came to pass afterward, that he loved a woman in the valley of Sorek, whose name was Delilah.  And the lords of the Philistines came up unto her, and said unto her, Entice him, and see wherein his great strength lieth, and by what means we may prevail against him, that we may bind him to afflict him; and we will give thee every one of us eleven hundred pieces of silver.  And Delilah said to Samson, Tell me, I pray thee, wherein thy great strength lieth, and wherewith thou mightest be bound to afflict thee. And Samson said unto her, If they bind me with seven green withs that were never dried, then shall I be weak, and be as another man. Then the lords of the Philistines brought up to her seven green withs which had not been dried, and she bound him with them. Now there were men lying in wait, abiding with her in the chamber. And she said unto him, The Philistines be upon thee, Samson. And he brake the withs, as a thread of tow is broken when it toucheth the fire. So his strength was not known.  And Delilah said unto Samson, Behold, thou hast mocked me, and told me lies: now tell me,… And it came to pass, when she pressed him daily with her words, and urged him, so that his soul was vexed unto death; that he told her all his heart, and said unto her, There hath not come a razor upon mine head; for I have been a Nazarite unto God from my mother’s womb if I be shaven, then my strength will go from me, and I shall become weak, and be like any other man.  And when Delilah saw that he had told her all his heart, she sent and called for the lords of the Philistines, saying, Come up this once, for he hath showed me all his heart. Then the lords of the Philistines came up unto her, and brought money in their hand. And she made him sleep upon her knees; and she called for a man, and she caused him to shave off the seven locks of his head; and she began to afflict him, and his strength went from him. And she said, The Philistines be upon thee, Samson. And he awoke out of his sleep, and said, I will go out as at other times before, and shake myself.  And he wist not that the Lord was departed from him.

Those of you who know me, know well, that strength is an attribute I celebrate and admire.  But strength for most of us is not magical or a gift of god, but, something we work for everyday.  Strength comes with a high price, exhaustion, pain, workouts with intensity that leaves you near black out, or, vomiting.  Samson it seems not only had great personal strength, but, he was a great martial artist, and a guerrilla leader.  Talents that he took for granted and perhaps even resented.  His Nazerite vow was imposed upon him by his parents as an infant.  In a way this story of Samson and Delilah reminds of the goofy movie cliché where the bad guy has the ultimate weapon of doom and it has weirdly a self-destruct mechanism.  We see this with our Sports hero’s too, they have pre-game rituals and superstitions.  Magic as it were.   Magic, perhaps, to explain extraordinary talent, and magic to explain extraordinary weakness.

The Parable of the Talents Matt 25:14-30

The parable tells of a master who was leaving his home to travel, and before going gave his three servants different amounts of money. On returning from his travels, the master asked his servants for an account of the money given to them. The first servant reported that he was given five talents, and he had made five talents more. The master praised the servant as being good and faithful, gave him more responsibility because of his faithfulness, and invited the servant to be joyful together with him.

The second servant said that he had received two talents, and he had made two talents more. The master praised this servant in the same way as being good and faithful, giving him more responsibility and inviting the servant to be joyful together with him.

The last servant who had received one talent reported that knowing his master was a hard man, he buried his talent in the ground for safekeeping, and therefore returned the original amount to his master. The master called him a wicked and lazy servant, saying that he should have placed the money in the bank to generate interest. The master commanded that the one talent be taken away from that servant, and given to the servant with ten talents, because everyone that has much will be given more, and whoever that has a little, even the little that he has will be taken away. And the master ordered the servant to be thrown outside.

It is ironic perhaps that Samson’s fall is seen rather like the 3rd servant.   I say ironic because the Old Testament “G”od , a wrathful and jealous one, seemed to love him in spite of his weaknesses, arrogances, and appetites.  And the New Testement “G”od one allegedly of love and forgiveness would seem to cast a person like Samson into darkness and suffering.  Certainly that is the human justice we love to see in our celebrities and reality TV.  The rest of us who have to work hard for strength or insight like to associate ourselves with the hard working servants and imagine fairness and justice in the universe.  Although this story of Samson’s fall fills our minds, we should not forget his success as a leader, a martial artist and a strong man – he led his people for 20 years after all.  Perhaps, he like the first servant doubled his masters’ investment – in spite, and perhaps because of, his human frailties.  Cancer is neither fair nor just and everything about it is ironic –our own bodies run amok against ourselves.

Perhaps it is extreme situations and how we play to our strengths, our unique geniuses, our talents as it were, that we will be remembered for?

So the question becomes how we manage our magic so that it gives us confidence, but, does not replace the thing it is meant to invoke?

If we shave P’s head, what remains?

In truth, I think we are left with a Winnie-the-Pooh, just bald, and for it perhaps all the more Winnie-the-Pooh.  The hair, no more than the disease, describes P – and yet, both are her as well.  I think the beauty of Samson’s story is that there are no lessons to learn, just a life to observe.   A life to reflect mine against an imperfect mirror as it were.

Cycle 1 Day 14

Today is the end of cycle 1.   We have made it around this course once, in really good shape.  I must say that days 5-14 were very nice indeed.  I’ve got a ride and lots of company for tomorrow’s infusion.  I’ve got an idea what meds, ginger concoctions, massage and breathing might be helpful this time.  I don’t feel like I’m so much in the dark.  It doesn’t mean I won’t be uncomfortable.  I just have some idea what to expect.   We’ll see if this cycle is like the last one at all.  I do not feel dread as some have asked.  I’m very much in the moment and still full of G.O. energy.  I’m on the horse and she and I are acquainted.  GIDDYUP Girl.

“Rooted “ was inspired by my walks this morning.  The trees are getting Rooted-150x150ready for colder weather.  As they loose their leaves,  I will loose my hair.  Not that you need to know this, but my cycles are often on with the moon.  I mention it here because I feel strength in my connection with nature, and so it is with the trees as well.  If my calculations are accurate, I may be sprouting in the spring.  That works for me.

Thanks to all of you who made this first cycle so comfortable for us.  People continue to blow us away with thoughtfulness.  My big brother commented on the previous entry about the giving that touches me so.  Even just writing about THAT gets me started.  Jeepers.   I love kindness.

Off to yoga now, but I wanted to give you a couple updates:

KITCHEN UPDATE:  On Monday I was able to make a whole BUNCH of caponata, I got the peppers pressed with salt for pickled peppers (which were just processed today), made a great pot o sauce with sausages and meatballs AND a killer eggplant parm.  Am I in heaven?

BLOG UPDATE:  Obviously,  B is playing with the format, something he loves to do.  Please let us know what you think.  The spot that looks like a small paper tacked to the post at the top right is the comment link.  Please feel free to comment, we actually love it when you do.  It goes directly to our email, and it gives us a sense that someone is out there.

WALK FOR HOPE UPDATE:  Our goal was 15 team members, and as soon as I fugure out how to put B, A and E on the team, we’ll be up to, I think, 17 members!  We started with a $500 fundraising goal and kept upping it.  Our goal is now $2,000 and we have already collected $1570.  This is so COOL!

9/16 Nourish

By supplementing the chemo with herbs and accupuncture, I feel like I’m putting really good compost into a barron soil.  I am aware that the balance within my system is seriously being disrupted with chemo.  I drew “nourish” today, after drinking my astragalus root tea which tastes nutty and sweet.  Perhaps I’ll have to do a drawing another day after taking my herbs.  We call it the jar of dirt, and I’m grateful for the suggestion to use grape juice to help with the ingestion.Nourish-150x150I love working the soil.  My garden looks better today than it has all summer because I have been able to spend time out there.  Better than how it looks is how I feel when I’m elbow deep in nice dark earth, and the transformation that occurs within me when I eat garden candy al fresco.  It’s better than calgon.  Well, I imagine it would be if I ever tried calgon.

I’ve been making my Nonni’s chicken cacciatore today.  Speaking of nourishment.  The fresh rosemary I picked this morning simmering in the olive oil and garlic, tomatoes and chicken are just making me YEARN for supper time.  In case your mouth isn’t watering from that description, know that I attempted a picture of  it, but A and I both agreed, it didn’t do it justice, so you’ll have to use your imagination or fix some in your kitchen to get the true impact!

I feel terrific today.  Thanks to all of you following along.  Your presence, support and love is felt very strongly.  We’ll be eating around 5:30 if you’re interested.

9/15

I have been avoiding doing an entry because I didn’t want “A’s sacrifice” to get bumped out of first position.  It’s such a profound thing to me.  She’d say “Mom, it’s ok, just keep going.” or something like that.   

So I’m basically describing my life in terms of the 14 day cycle (how chemo-esque), I’m on day 7.  Since about day 5 I’ve felt really good, like I’m doing normal things, I’m back in the kitchen and looking forward to the soccer game tonight under the lights if it stops raining.  I’m getting ready to tear the last of the shag carpets out of this house,  one of the only remaining signs of the 70’s on the main level,  (if you completely overlook the orange countertops and parkay floor in the kitchen).   I’m walking a good distance every day and feel less fatigued, thankfully.  One day at a time.

I was walking around the house yesterday saying “ok, so who can come out to play today???”  and remembered that on Mondays some people do things.  I’m sure as the week progresses I may be leaving messages for people to go bungy jumping or something.

I have not been to my art pad in several days,  and I think something has to be done about THAT.

I like Cowboy{Girl} Songs, 9/12

I’ve been trying to make more sense of the Cow Girl metaphor.  Today I remembered favorite songs from a long time ago and far far away.

The last two lines of the refrain was a lot of how I felt when I was 18. 

“‘Cos they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone.
Even with someone they love.”

But, I’m 44 — I didn’t die young, and I’ve seen the power of community.  I’ve seen what people can do when they focus on the goal and the good and not on taking credit or making money.  I see it here too as we … deal with this situation.   I’ve seen how having children changes one as well.  But I think P really hit it on the head in her ruminations about mortality, hers, and watching her father’s passing.  That, “always alone”,  in the end we are strangers even to ourselves. 

Yet, this is different.  Breast Cancer, particularly the kind we have, can be overcome.  Long healthy happy lives can be led.  This isn’t a death sentence.   I’ve recalled watching P deliver both children and the amazing toughness and endurance.   I know the fabric she is made of.  This “bump” in the road will probably take about as long as gestation.  The outcome is a little uncertain, but it will be a new life much like children at the end.

Philosophical horse shit  and weak analogies aside. Chemo sucks;  friends who drop food by and give the kids rides are angels; and I like Cowboy songs.

Cycle 1 Day 4 Saturday, 9/12

Going to A’s soccer game and talking with parents and friends.  Taking a walk in the woods.  Napping with the katz.  Baking a  blueberry pie.  Picking scrumptious sungold and sweet 100 tomatoes from our garden and making pesto out of fresh basil.  Going to the dump with E and giving in to his request to pick up a hot dog on the way home.  Talking on the phone.  OK, so there is some normalcy in my life.

I’m sure B, A and E seeing me Wed night was no fun at all.  They have been incredibly attentive, and willing to give me space as I need.  We all have friends checking in with us, some cautious about calling, dropping of incredible meals, sending cards, giving rides.  We surely could not do this alone.

I’m so interested in this body’s ability to tolerate the substances that were infused on Wednesday.  The past two days I’ve not felt 100%, that’s for sure.  I have gone to my bed when body told me to.  I’ve done breathing exercises to settle my stomach.  Ginger tea, ginger ale, ginger tonic, an occasional drug.   I was nauseous on Wednesday evening.  I’ve been sort of nauseous on and off for the past 3 days.  Nausea sucks and being sort of nauseous is just annoying.

If every day gets better, I’ll be ready to do the jig by Wednesday.  Anyone want to join me?