Treatment Day

     Chemo treatment days have come and gone. I have had 11 cycles so far, adding up to 11 IV Taxol, 5 IP cisplatin and 2 IP Taxol treatments. Most have been uneventful, with typically expected side effects, mostly muscle aches and nausea and vomiting and anemia. I have had 5 whole blood transfusions. I have 1 more scheduled cycle of 3 treatments. I am so close to being done that it makes each successive treatment harder to get through. Treatment days are very emotional lately. It's  harder to wear the brave face.
     I am grateful for having access to quality care. I am grateful for my oncologist. I am grateful that he truly cares and that he is driven by some higher purpose. He truly has healing hands. But these things don't make it any easier to be brave today. Some days it does, but not today.
     I am grateful that I have met many OC sisters on the wonderful world wide web. They help me orient myself. They inspire me to be brave. We commiserate with each other's trevails. We understand each other in ways that those of you outside the OC club cannot fathom and I cannot explain. Today we lost another OC Warrior sister. That makes it really hard to be brave today.

Another Book about Cancer

Emperor of All Maladies, a Biography of Cancer

I should stop reading books about cancer. I need to think about something else. I am glad that I took the time to read this though. It's an extensive look at the history of research and treatment of all kinds of cancer. The author is a physician who manages to write about scientifically technical material in an easy to understand language. I was fascinated! Who knew about treatment poultices made from crab eyes? Even though I loved this book, I would only recommend it to other uber-geeks like me.




5/5 stars

Words

     I have been thinking about the power of words. I believe that the words you say to yourself ultimately come to fruition. That's why it is very important to choose those words carefully, to be conscious of the content of your train of thought. I also believe that it is impossible to always have a truly positive state of mind. Just recognize those negative thoughts and words you say to yourself and move forward. I counter my own negative words with a positive, carefully chosen mantra. I know I chose properly, because those words return to me in profound ways.

     This is one of my mantras. My cousin sent me these words. She showed me that words can be tactile and experienced in all your senses. In this way, Hope supports me, Hope nourishes me, Hope quenches me. Hope serves me well, but I also need more active words.

     These words found their way to me. Two of these came through my cousin, who might be an angel on earth. The other came through a dear friend from a woman who donated her own charm so that I might experience the power of healing. These are powerful talismans. I wear them over my heart. I wear one of them reversed, my skin touching the word. I have found myself pressing these words into my skin with my fingertips. It's an unconscious act in which I catch myself several times a day. I run my fingers over the words, I rub them over my lips, I press them into my sternum. I feel them on every level. I am afraid that I might wear these words out, but I know these are powerful words. These words are mine to use for now, then someday I will be able to pass them on to somebody who needs them more.

Not Black.

   I find that having cancer has affected my wardrobe. I no longer have any desire to drape myself in dark, somber colors, especially black.

   B.C. (before cancer), I thought of wearing black as a cool badge of toughness and strength. This started in college, when I got to be the cool girl because I wore these black pants with zippers down the legs. It was the early 80's in Colorado, so everyone else was wearing polo shirts and Levi's with their Adidas. I wore skinny zipper pants and ankle boots. The frat boys called me "Robin Hood" and not in an especially flattering manner.  That didn't stop me from finding other ways to dress that expressed my disdain for those who failed to appreciate my unique sense of fashion. I went through many phases of dress, from jeans and plain white t-shirts to miniskirts and leggings to jean skirts and clogs. I always came back to black as my basic. I was an exercise in existential angst.  I thought it was hip, edgy and cool. Now it's just drab, sad and passe.

   A.C. (after cancer), I am finding the need to perk it up, wardrobe wise. Especially with a shiny bald head as my most obvious accessory. I "fem it up" these days. I wear bright pretty colors. I wear flower prints. I wear bright pink shiny lip gloss and floral earrings. I feel pretty. I wonder less about  why I exist, I am happy to exist. My go to color these days is pink. Pink, that pretty, life affirming shade of health, pink! Pink, pink, pink! Go figure.

Notes from the Chemo Diary

   More notes to myself, written while admitted to the hospital under the influence of a giant cocktail of drugs. Sometimes I feel that these moments are the most clear.... 

  I feel weightless inside my body, tethered by the weight of my body. Maya Angelou wrote a line once about feeling like she was just occupying the space inside her clothes. I am relating to that right now. I am bouncing and bumping against myself, the shell of my outside self. I feel light but weighted down at the same time.

   That cat is back, scurrying along the floor by the outer edge of the wall. He's a black cat. He ran under the bed but I can't find him anywhere. I wish I could remember his name.

   My tears are big shiny bouncy balls of light that flutter down my cheeks, over my chest and onto the floor. Kersplash.

   Remember, chemo makes me emo. :)

Crazy-Award-of-the-Day

     I am a crazy magnet. It's because I make eye contact with people, even strangers. And I smile when I make that eye contact. Normal people smile back, maybe say hello, and keep moving. Crazy people think they are invited to bond.

    Today I am thrifting, looking for unusual things for making jewelry. I found some marbles for jewelry, some great fabrics, a huge bag of crochet thread, and 2 vintage patterns in my size, all for about $25. I hit 3 thrift stores and 2 dollar stores. I was at the dollar store, thinking that I could find a bag of marbles with the toys. I didn't, but that's not the story. The story begins as I hear a gentleman talking rather loudly in the next aisle over. I think to myself, Oh no....get your stuff and leave before he makes it over to your aisle. Too late. He rounds the corner into my aisle.

     "I would love to find a shower curtain here."

     I am proud of myself for pretending not to hear him. I study the package of stencils in my hand.

     "I have a new shower curtain I got last week but I don't like it. It smells toxic. Its made in China."

     I reshelve the stencils and even straighten other items on the shelf. I look straight ahead.

     "I paid a lot for that shower curtain too. I paid $20.03 for it. When are we going to stop all this bullshit with China and manufacture our own goods? It's all because of the labor unions. Things are too expensive because American workers demand too much money. Except miners, we need a miner's union. What are we going to do?"

     I cave, make eye contact (big mistake) and say that I don't know.

     "Well, I do. I'm calling the FBI. I want them to check out this shower curtain. It's toxic. God knows what it's made of.....from China!"

    I am so sorry that I engaged this gentleman. I just want to leave. So I turn my back and walk the other way around the corner. What's in this aisle? Shower curtains! (no joke). I consider taking him a shower curtain but don't. He's still talking.

     "I guess she didn't like me."

     Now I feel guilty for walking away. Oh, the humanity!

This moment

     I have seen the end and it isn't pretty. I have witnessed the sequelae of ovarian cancer through the women who have gone before me. I watch and listen as their cancer recurs, from the first little sign until the end. From the first elevated CA125 result, through bowel obstructions, through the feeding tubes, the pain medication pumps, the pleurisy, the lymph edema, the cachexia, the hospice care admissions, the delirium, then one day it's finally over. It's not much to look forward to. It would be nicer to be run over by that truck everyone is always telling me about. You know the truck, as in "we could all be hit by a truck at any moment". That would certainly be a lot less trouble than the slow demise that seems to be the usual experience. Today, I learned of yet another ovarian cancer sister, Pateeta , who has been admitted to hospice care. Today, I went to support group and the sickest  woman in the room is another OC sister. Today, these woman and their experiences weigh heavily on my mind. They motivate me to truly live while I can, to not waste a single day or a single moment.
     Today, I will live the best life I can. I will eat good foods to nourish my body. I will walk in the park and hold my face to the sun. I will breath deeply and fill my lungs with fresh air. I will be present in my body, feeling the muscles in my legs as they carry me where I want to go. I will own my strength and be grateful for it. I will expand my mind with reading. I will exercise my creativity. I will share my view of the world. I will hope for comfort for my friends and family and myself. I will connect. That's the best life I can imagine.

    "I got this moment that I'm in right now and nothin else at all."
~ Todd Snider