Big Tree Fall Hard

Ahh, another favorite movie line. Wedding Crashers. Well, today I walked in Vince Vaughn's shoes. Tackled out of left field.

As I've mentioned, this second surgery was a piece of cake compared to the first. I'm keeping up on the pain medication, which may be why I'm having a tough time writing a coherent sentence. But, I suppose that because this time I don't have the drain, it doesn't feel as serious? My arm continues to heal, which helps.

It was a beautiful, sunny day and Todd and I went to the lagoon for a walk. Not a "time to walk the Claire" but, a walk together at our old pace. It felt lovely. Normal.

Then, voluntarily, I requested Todd stop at Jimbos so I could get an Emerald Bliss. With a shot of wheat grass. The taste fails to improve. Eternal optimist that I am, I continue to hope each time that I'll take a sip and won't gag. Nope. This bitter brew better be magic! Or, I'll be rather perturbed. I do feel smug and virtuous. Obviously, as I feel compelled to report it in my blog each time I drink one.

When we arrived home, I was feeling fired up and vacuumed. Then, I selected two workout DVDs that I usually find easy. I need to do exercise! I detest feeling the muscles in my legs, arms and core just atrophying away. Skinny-fat. I can literally feel it. As I'm about to start one of the DVDs, I was suddenly hit with a wave of tiredness and nausea. Oh no.

I had no other option except to lie down. Two hours later, I swam back into consciousness. Was this from the pain medication? I guess I did just have surgery less than 48 hours ago and need to take it slowly. But, I felt so great earlier!

Is this foreshadowing? Is this what will happen during treatment? I'll feel great and then all of a sudden crash? With zero control? No option but to lie down or fall over? I couldn't help but start crying when I woke up. I've always considered myself so strong and it certainly doesn't feel that way now.

This battle isn't day by day. It is hour by hour.

Stay ahead of the Pain Meds!!

This photo is from Leonesse Winery. It captures my family dynamic quite well. My brother Robert, sister Yael, yours truly and my dad laughing at us all. We visited Temecula for the afternoon so I could really get a head start on my pain medication prior to the surgery yesterday. Nothing like a little red wine.

The recovery from this second surgery is significantly better than the first. No drain. No terrible fear at the potential of chemotherapy. Somehow, over the last few weeks, the chemotherapy became my reality. Wow. I started to do some more research in my natural medicine book on the antioxidants, vitamins and nutrition to counterbalance the poisonous drugs soon to be injected into my system. It is overwhelming.

I started reading about the side-effects again and it is unfathomable that I will be going through all of this over the next four months or so. Then 7 weeks of radiation. No, no, no, no! It is mind-boggling to list out all of the supplements I should take: the fish oil, the enzymes, the greens, the juicing, the vitamins. How much, when, on and on. What will help strengthen the white blood cells, which supplements will help diminish the bone marrow damage. It is enough to drive me insane.

I also got the first bill from my insurance company. Whew. A lot of money. And, it is just for January. No surgeries yet, none of these recent fancy scans and tests included. The financial aspect of this is scary. I feel grateful that I do have good insurance but, I'm going to be treated over the next six or seven months and I know the price of poison isn't cheap. I am freaking out. And, my COBRA coverage ends in August. I sure hope that I can get it extended.

I'm a whiner today, aren't I? It was a tough week. The liver spot threw me for a loop. Let's try to shift this. I felt in a fine mood but, the minute I started writing, the fears emerge. I've got a lot of yucky tests upcoming, including a 4 hour bone scan, the MRI with Eovist for the liver and an EKG. Whew.

Okay, shift gears Claire: I am very grateful for my family's visit and love, for Todd(who insists that I give him photographer credit for this photo), for all of my awesome friends support. My lovely girls are taking me to Palm Springs next weekend so that I can finally get my craving for lazing by the pool fulfilled. I cannot wait to just absorb some sunshine, read a book, leave this part of my life behind for a little while.

Time for pain meds....they tell you not to fall behind or they won't work! We cannot have that. :)

Nobody puts baby in the corner....

Remember that line? There was a back-up prior to my surgery. The pre-op nurse brought me back to the launching pad area and was then informed that I was second in line for surgery. Oops. I was placed in the back corner of the huge area and curtains drawn around me. An IV was inserted into my hand in order to begin giving me fluids. Thank goodness because I was more dehydrated than I was after a visit to Amsterdam in college.

The nurse told me not to feel rejected for being in second place and that they'd get to me after about another 45 minutes. As I lay semi-hallucinating on my gurney, I kept thinking of that great Patrick Swayze line in Dirty Dancing, "Nobody puts baby in the corner." Very strange to be told you are about to go under the knife and then have to be put in a holding pattern.

I love my surgeon. She is amazing: cute, funny, warm, caring. I feel very comfortable with her. When I told her about the liver spot, she told me it is probably nothing. That Dr. K, my oncologist, would have called her to tell her about it if she was really concerned. What a relief. Even with my family and teaching distracting me, the last few days have been shaky. I cannot seem to completely let go of this liver issue. It has to be a birthmark or a false positive. It must.

It was wonderful having my family here for a few days. We enjoyed some good food, wine and the San Diego sunshine. They headed home this morning. Very therapeutic. I am so lucky.

After they departed, I taught my Frogs yoga class. Teaching really is helping me stay sane. When I teach, I am fully present and not thinking about tests, cancer and this surreal nightmare. I had a special blessing: visitors from my past came all the way to San Diego to take my class. Connie grew up right down the street from me in Virginia. We reconnected on Facebook and voila. She ended up in San Diego for the weekend with her cousin and came to Frogs. Thank you Connie! Really cool.

Maybe I've turned a corner. I woke up feeling fine. I feel okay now. Methinks I'm a little buzzed from my vicodin but, that is okay! No drain, no pain, no trauma.

My wonderful man Todd drove me through In-n-Out and I had my first cheeseburger in almost two months. I've had no meat at all. I don't think one fantastic, mouth-watering cheeseburger will kill me. Tomorrow it is back to the pure organic, super green regime. I will get an Emerald Bliss. With Wheat Grass. I promise. Time to get bionic in preparation for the rest of my treatment.

Spot on my Liver. Really???!!!!

I love all the comments. Jessie--I like the idea of 9 months of gestation to baby Claire. Although, I'd kind of liked me pre-rebirth but, what the heck.

Warning: I feel bad. Really bad. And, I'm gonna vent it. There is also some good. Let's see. Gratitude first.

I am very happy that my dad, brother and sister are in town to see me. We've had a great visit so far. It was a beautiful day and we went to La Jolla. We also went to Lululemon so they could see WHAT Lululemon is, what it stands for in the community and my life and most importantly, where my photo would be on the wall. HA! It was wonderful to be able to share that part of my life with them.

We also ate yummy meals at Georges and Third Corner, respectively.

Now to the bad part. So, my oncologist phones me today. Personally. Mind you, I get almost daily calls from Scripps for scheduling, test results and the like. Today, my oncologist picked up the phone, herself, and called me. This is not a good sign.

A little background: I had some horrible tests yesterday. The Breast Cancer Gene test. They sucked out a bunch of blood. A Chest X-Ray, not so bad. A CT and PET Scan that were a nightmare. My friend Zoe accompanied me (and took some photos--where are they Zoe??) and was planning to stay with me. Having someone there makes it more palatable.

Well, not for these tests. They take you into a room, sit you in a chair, and inject a radioactive isotope with dye. Zoe was not allowed to stay. I could not read. I could not talk on the phone. I could not move. I had to sit, completely still, in a chair with this IV sticking out of my arm for 45 minutes. Well, you can only imagine how the mind wanders. I kept thinking of my late brother Andre, the hemophiliac, who spent about a day per month in the hospital for all of his 34 years. How did he endure it?

I sat there and bawled. Alone. For 45 minutes.

Next, they take you and stick you into the coffin-like machine for the two tests. The first one is feet first and the second is head first. Again, you cannot move.

Insult to injury: You have to fast for 6 hours. I hate being deprived of food. I need to be fed every few hours or it is not pretty. Zoe is a saint. She went and bought me lunch. With a big chocolate donut. Sugar be damned. I shoveled all of the healthy stuff and the donut and almost felt human. Almost.

So, now for the bad part. My doctor was calling to tell me that the CT/PET results concerned not only her but, two radiologists as well. There is a 9mm spot on my liver. She said that at first she wasn't worried, that it looked subtle to her and could be a birthmark or maybe something benign. But, after the second radiologist read it and also expressed concern, they want to do a super-special MRI of my abdomen with an Invitriol?? to find out what it is. Great. The liver is the first place where anything metastasizes.

She called me because she didn't want to wait until our appointment on the 8th. She doesn't want to lose another week. Treatment apparently will be very different if this liver issue is cancer. The liver. All I can think about is all that beer and grain alcohol at UVa. Did I have one jello shot too many 20 years ago?

I did tell her that I had accepted I needed chemo and was ready to go. She asked what days worked for me and I told her Fridays, so I could recuperate over the weekend and minimize my time away from teaching. Teaching helps maintain a shred of sanity. She said she'd get it scheduled and we should start my first round on the 12th of March. Unless this liver spot is something serious.

Each time I accept or resign myself to the horror of this, something worse happens. I finally process all the information on chemotherapy and agree to it and now this. I don't know how much longer I can keep it together. I really don't. Where will this end? What the hell will they want to do if it is in my liver? How strong am I supposed to be?

Maybe it is time to sell my car and travel and just enjoy how I feel now, for however long it lasts. The idea tempts me. Todd? Jake and Oreo? Anyone?

How to get FREE monthly housecleaning!

I'm signing up for free maid service. Imagine getting free maid service once a month! Someone to take care of those pesky baseboards, toilets and shower doors. It can be yours. Yes, for free. All you need to do is qualify for the free service.

Unfortunately, the criteria is chemotherapy.

And, that is my big announcement of the day. I am going to go through chemotherapy. I've said it. I've written it. It shall come to pass. Wow. I know tons of women have survived and thrived through treatment but, there is still a feeling of how can this be my path? Really? This is going to be three-quarters of 2010.

I am not doing it for the maid service.

What changed my mind? That there could be cells that broke away from the tumor that are too small to be picked up on any scan. That those cells are waiting to multiply. And, from what I understand, if I don't go through the chemo now and wait until later, it may be too late. I get it. I don't like it but, I get it.

I had a lot of plans, dreams and goals for this year. I blogged about them on January 1st. On January 2nd, I found the lump. This year is going to be very different than I anticipated. I was looking at this year as the time to truly grow my business, increase my private clientele to a point where I was thriving financially as well as professionally. I was hoping to film for ExerciseTV in early Spring, which may not happen now depending on my new schedule.

It is frustrating. I feel like my career was blossoming. And, for now, I've got to focus on just maintaining my class schedule, not grow it. For now. It is tough. It is scary financially. I'm scared that I'll lose opportunities. I already have.

On the other hand, I've been blown away by how generous, warm and caring everyone has been. Who knows if I'd ever experience this level of support otherwise? I knew that my immediate circle would be fantastic; that is why I have them in my life. Because they are all special, amazing people. But, those who I'm getting closer to due to this illness have shown me such unconditional support. An incredible silver lining.

I must discuss my two oncology appointments. I saw my physician Friday and went in for a second opinion this afternoon. Friday was brutal. Todd and I were there for over three hours. Both doctors gave me basically the same information. There is even a computer program where they can plug in age, tumor size, grade, and spread.

Recipe: 6 Rounds of Chemo every 3 Weeks. TAC. Or, the second doctor suggested just TC. 7 weeks of Radiation. 5 Days a Week. Followed by 5 YEARS of Tamoxofin. Hormone blockers. All with lots of side effects ranging from annoying to pretty darned scary.

I'm already exhausted from all the appointments, the tests, the phone calls, the waiting, the driving. Not to mention the pain I continue to experience. And, the hunger. I've got to fast for 6 hours tomorrow for my CT Scan. And, again Friday when I have my second surgery. I'll be driving to In-N-Out soon.

It has only been 7 weeks. I've got 7 months ahead of me. Unfathomable right now. I'll take some yogic wisdom and do my best to live in the present moment. And, try to remember that cancer is just part of my life. It cannot be all of it.

Still riding last night's high

I didn't sleep well last night. I think my brain and my heart continue to process the overwhelming gratitude I feel at the support I've received. My brain cannot slow down with all it is processing from my oncology meeting. The second opinion is tomorrow.

This morning was lovely. I attended my first yoga class since surgery with my dear friend Kirsten, and the Lulu ladies, Laura and Maddie. We anticipated a restorative class consisting of lying on the floor for an hour or so, covered in blankets, propped up by bolsters. Yummy. It turned out to be gentle yoga and there were a few down dogs. No down dog for me yet but, I was happy to see that each day the range of motion in my right arm and shoulder improves. I hope to lift it overhead by the end of the week. It just looks and feels like a shark bite. Missing chunk in my pectoral/shoulder girdle. Ugly.

On another note, I've been compiling a list of names and numbers of referrals. Specifically, other breast cancer survivors similar to me in age and situation. I haven't felt up to calling anyone yet. Until today.

I spoke with an incredible woman from Boulder. When I learned that she was 37 when she was diagnosed, after her return from her honeymoon in Kauai(one of my favorite places on earth), that she was a yoga instructor (same studio as one where I teach here) and that she was a rockstar 7 year survivor, I wanted to speak with her. I was especially intrigued about how she used her yoga: both teaching and practicing, to stay strong throughout her treatment. She'd helped my friend's mom with a Yoga for Survivors class.

Our discussion was great. And, what she shared really resonated with me. That you've got one chance to attack the cancer with every tool at your disposal. That time is now. She didn't want to look back and regret not trying everything. She used integrative medicine: ie nutrition, yoga, acupuncture and other holistic methods to keep her strong throughout surgeries, chemotherapy, and radiation. Her story helped me tremendously. It helped settle some of the conflicts I've been experiencing regarding conventional chemotherapy treatment. Not that anybody wants chemo but, I didn't believe it would help me before and I'm shifting.

It is interesting how my views are progressing. Is it acceptance? Resignation? Fear? Kir and I were discussing wigs today. Todd and I discussed them the other night. Wow. Two weeks ago, I couldn't have fathomed that as a matter-of-fact discussion. I'm still leaning toward Tawny Kitaen....big hair. Why not? Lord knows I wasn't blessed with it. I don't think the Marylin wig is practical for everyday. Or ever.

Speechless.....

Tonight rendered me speechless.

For those of who know me, you know that is a rarity. Okay, okay, it has never happened. In fact, I cannot recall another situation where I didn't have a response. I am humbled. I am blessed. I am the luckiest person I know. I am floating in a haze of warmth and beauty.

Tonight, the lovely and inspirational Kim Stahler, owner of Sculpt Fusion Yoga, the studio where I teach most of my classes, held a Donation yoga class for me. Cancer isn't cheap! Between missing two weeks of teaching because of the surgery and the drain, very expensive health insurance and medical bills, and the uncertainty of how many classes I will miss over the next six months for treatment and appointments, the financial part of this journey is frightening. Tonight was a boon.

I am glowing. The studio looked beautiful. Candles and flowers everywhere. So many people attended, not just students, but people from all areas of my life. My Rescue House peeps. My Frogs students. Some people I didn't even know! Some showed up for the Vino part and skipped the Vinyasa. Actually, I guess Todd and I did the same thing! The gifted Maria graciously agreed to teach the class this evening.

Now for the speechless part: the class began with feisty Jenn Richardson asking everyone to sit in a circle around me. By candlelight, Jenn spoke from the heart and lead us in a healing Om circle. She shared a personal story of when she went through teacher training and how I had inspired her and lifted her up.

Specifically, I told her I liked her and that she was feisty. And, for those of you who know her and take her classes, you know what I mean!! I cannot recall each word, just the message that everyone loved me, that they were there to support me, to help me, to hold me up, and that everyone visualize me healthy, happy and laughing. The power and beautiful energy in the room blew me away. I had nothing to say.

Did I mention that is a first?

Another affirmation that quitting the corporate rat race to teach yoga full time was the right decision for me. As I've said all along, I am awed at the love and support from those around me. Those who are close and those who I don't know that well. My man, my friends, my family, my community. This cancer has reconnected me with people I've missed having in my life and not been in contact with for years.

I'm so happy that I had tonight. Yesterday and most of today were hell. The oncologist shall be described on Monday's entry, after I get a second opinon. I'm not going to ruin the beauty of tonight. Let's just say if I'd written before 6pm or last night, it wouldn't have been easy to hear.

I love ending on a positive note.

Teaching and Mystery Vegetables

Today was a good day! A great day! An emotional day! I cried more today than over the last week.

First cry: driving to teach yoga this morning. I was nervous. What if I forgot how? Would it feel different?

Then, my nervousness and crying jag were interrupted when some Camry nearly ran me out of my lane. I screamed at him. Ahhhh, life was back to normal. I still get Tourette's when I drive on the Interstate. It was a regular Thursday morning.

I know it is a contradiction that I teach yoga, advocating calm and peace of mind, but, I think my driving issues are primal and deep. It all goes back to my Corsican grand-pere. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

The familiar faces and warm welcome in all of my classes today was amazing. I am so blessed to be part of this community. I remembered how to teach. I, unfortunately, could not lift my arm above shoulder height or touch my toes. Mind you, I am Gumby and have always been able to just lay my palm flat on the floor. Not today! Wow. Humbling. Now, I can really empathize with all my runner students. I can't wait to get my flexibility back.

I teach in a room heated to 95 degrees, with 40% humidity. Thus, my shirt was soaked. Luckily, my friend April was there to help me peel it off. This was the first time I had put something on over my head. And, Lululemon tops ensure that your tatas are secure. Just hard to remove when you cannot move your arm or feel your underarm. Again, for a super-independent person who doesn't like to ask for help, this is a journey. I've been dressing myself for years.

Cry #2: My ActiveX peeps brought me flowers. Beautiful flowers: nice job Arch!! It was perfect, sunny and breezy outside during our class.

My wonderful family at Lululemon Carlsbad are a host site for Garden of Eden, a local, organic farm that provides fresh produce. They were kind enough to donate a shipment to me this week. I am overflowing with veggies and fruit! Fabulous.

Here's the catch: my old nemesis, the KALE, was on top. Luckily, there are two small bunnies who live on my cul-de-sac. I left the special treat out for them. They were very pleased. I bet there will be an extra lift to their hop tomorrow.

The second catch: I didn't know what half of the vegetables were!! Seriously!!

Lettuce: check.
Spinach: check.
Oranges, lemons, avocados: check.

Here's where things got sticky:

Mysterious small reddish-purple carrot looking things--NO idea.
More mysterious reddish-purple carrot looking things with what looked like chard attached--WHAT???!!!!
Some type of fresh herb--HUH????!!

Luckily, Lauren called to educate me. Reddish carrot things are indeed carrots!! Other reddish things are beets, herb is oregano. Who knew what they actually looked like? Very excited to try them!!

Cry #3: Spoke to Julian today. We had another discussion about chemotherapy and I must say, he is very convincing. I'm still waiting to see how I feel after meeting with two different oncologists and receiving answers to all of my questions about treatment scenarios. I couldn't help crying again.

Maybe they won't tell me I have to do it. That would help my dilemma about needing a touch-up for my highlights. Could be a moot point.

Part Two.....Drain is Gone!!

Meg put it best: Ding Dong the Drain is Gone, The Wicked Drain...faa laa laa....

Regrettably, the Drain is considered biohazardous waste and I was not allowed to take it with me. Ahhhh, the best laid plans.

Seeing as I am such a secretive and mysterious type, I cannot resist sharing some details. Big surprise.

The lovely Meredith accompanied me to the drain removing party. She watched the festivities from the front row. The doctor quizzed me, ensuring that I was at the acceptable drainage level. I am pleased to say that I didn't have to fudge the numbers at all. And, believe me, over the last week I've been tempted!

First, she had to "milk the drain." This consists of holding onto it with both hands and pulling on it like I was Bessie. Or, back in college playing intramural tug-o-war. Black dots swam before my eyes and the room became very hot. She reclined me back on the table. I'm not sure if that is standard procedure or if she worried I was going to faint. Either way, it helped.

Milking took a while. One tug was so intense that my left leg kicked up involuntarily, like a marionette. Good to know that the right side is connected to the left leg. I hope never to discover if the opposite is true. Meredith later told me that she almost flew to my aid. I guess the milking looked as bad as it felt.

After I was sufficiently "milked," she removed the drain. She then showed me about 4inches of tubing that had been inside me, above the sutures. Did I mention that this thing was stitched in to me? FOUR inches of tube! I almost tossed my cookies at that. It was gross enough seeing the drain that hung around for 12 days, much less the inside view.

Meredith than took the scenic route down Torrey Pines to the beach. I love that stretch of road: dramatic cliffs, crashing waves, fertile marshland. She then walked me. Wait! No! She did not walk me! I walked myself!!! With her. While wearing a tank top. No jacket required. Amazing! Magical!

It has been 7 hours. I think it will take a few days for me to feel free.

Teaching in the morning. The first step to feeling free.

Two part Entry: Before the Drain and After the Drain

Part One: This photo is from Todd's sister Julie's wedding in Kauai. One of my all time favorite places and trips. I'd had a few mai-tais to celebrate the happy occasion. See the size of my grin: that is how excited I am to have my drain removed today. No rum needed.

Wednesday with the drain still hanging around. I was thrilled to wake up and glance down at the drain and see it was almost empty. I bounded downstairs to measure my lymphatic fluid output. Only 5 cc!!!! Earlier on in this process, I'd wake up with 30ccs and not be quite so eager to measure it because it meant further imprisonment. Today will be 12 days....for someone who doesn't even know how to wear a scarf, the drain has been the most challenging part of this process thus far.

And, to be honest, since I set up the appointment to have the drain removed today, I've been scared that it would start flowing again and I couldn't get it taken out after all. I'm not used to operating with so much fear in my life. I'm generally pretty fearless and I am not comfortable in the role of wimp. So, I have been a crabby little brat. You know when you hear yourself and think, "Shut Up!" but, you keep ranting anyway? Awful. Thank god Todd is the most patient person I know.

The drain is coming out today!! I am ecstatic. I feel like I will have my life back. I can start physical therapy or actually, start exercising on my own. I can leave the house without the non-zip up top. And, I'm hopeful that since I will not have to spend time dressing the drain, putting in new bandages, climbing into my tops, that it won't take me an hour to get ready.

I'm still not sure how pulling clothes on over my head will go. Teaching tomorrow should be interesting. I am so excited to be back at Sculpt Fusion tomorrow morning!! I sure hope I remember how to teach. It feels like another lifetime but, it has only been two weeks.

Yesterday was a challenge and a blessing. Kind of like all of these days, I suppose. I'd basically hit the wall with being stuck in the house. I would not do well in prison.

Jannine Oberg, who does EFT work, came over and did a session with me. EFT is based upon a variety of modalities, utilizing accupressure and meridian work from Chinese medicine. She can explain it much better on her website: www.StellarStrategist.com. I really liked it. Thank you Jannine!

What resonated with me is that you need to acknowledge and work through the negative emotions, instead of just burying them and trying to "look on the bright side." I've struggled with that concept a lot. I am accustomed to putting on the happy, strong, positive Claire face, no matter what. I am not comfortable in the dark. And, believe me, there is dark. A wise friend told me to accept that you are in the dark at times but, use the "flashlight" into the shadows to find the gifts.

In EFT, you work through the negative or stagnant thoughts and feelings and then make room for the positive. I felt a huge shift when we came to the point where I acknowledged that "CANCER" can have some of my time but, I will not allow "CANCER" to take all my happiness, occupy all my waking thoughts, take over my world. I will allow CANCER part of my attention but, I will also live my life and not allow it to invade every part of it. I take back my recreation, my love, my work, my time for me. So there!

Time to let me out....

This is Oreo. He loves sitting in little boxes or cat beds where he can nap leaning against the walls. All day. It makes him feel safe and cozy. While I appreciate his feelings, I do not share them. I feel trapped. I have had one daily outing each day for a walk. Like a pet. Other than that, this drain has kept me chained inside.

I'm going batty. I know, I know, I know! the drain is serving an honorable service by removing the fluids and toxins from my body. I get it. I appreciate it. Give it a medal. But, if I have to measure these fluids and record them, if I have to get a stringy blood clot stuck on my finger as I empty said fluids, for very much longer, I will snap. I've lost count of how many times I've almost passed out or thrown up. Or both. 10 days is a long time. And, it isn't coming out Tuesday so, we are at Wednesday already.

I'm used to running around all day. I teach all over North County. Some might think my usual pace is frenetic but, I thrive on it. I've never been one to sit around the house. And, my attention span isn't what it usually is. I love to read. You'd think I'd have devoured 10 books by now but, I cannot seem to keep my focus. I keep going back to the breast cancer. I cannot keep the thoughts at bay.

Luckily, in addition to my walk, I had two visitors today. My old friend Anne came bearing tons of organic veggies and great conversation. Robert came by for my second pranic healing session. I'm hitting this cancer from every angle possible.

No profound insights today. Just biding time and trying to take it one day at a time.

Research and Risk/Benefit Ratios....getting technical

This photo is supposed to be upside down. A brilliant artist named Campbell Morin took the photo. Granted, Campell was missing her two front teeth and still measures her age in one digit but, genius knows no age limits! Thanks Angel Bear!

Today is the day I started getting serious about my research. I want to find as much credible information as possible before meeting with the medical oncologist on Friday. I also definitely will set up a second opinion. I'm compiling my list of questions for the doctor. I'd love to find someone who will tell me I don't have to have chemotherapy. Anyone?

A fantastic book: How to Prevent and Treat Cancer with Natural Medicine, by Dr. Michael Murray. After reading, I've tabbed the four most immediately pertinent chapters for Todd to review. And, numbered them in order of priority. With hot pink post-its. I am such a dork.

What is excellent about this resource is that it doesn't tell you to forgo conventional treatments such as surgery, chemo, radiation and drugs. Rather, it advises of how to best use nutrition, diet and natural supplements to boost your immune system, stay strong and complement other treatments. There are numerous studies on the greens, the antioxidants, etc.

There is no question that nutrition is paramount. Surgery helps. Medicine helps. Acupuncture helps. Healing work helps. Yoga helps. Prayer helps. Love helps. The resounding support that I've received definitely helps.

There is no single cure-all.

I am not convinced that Chemotherapy is The Cure. I am open to hearing the arguments pro and con. A 43 year old, very healthy, with Stage 2 cancer and spread to 1 lymph node. My individual prognosis.

I want statistics. What are the survival/recurrence rates if I do surgery and radiation only? What are they if I do surgery, radiation and chemotherapy? What about the hormone drugs? What if I do nothing else after the second surgery? What if I sell my car and travel for the next few months instead?

What are the success rates? Ratios? Side effects?

What is the risk/benefit ratio?

What are the long term effects to my immune system? This is a huge concern for me. Do I want to live an extra 5 years but, have a cold or infection every month? Or, would I rather live out the rest of my days healthy and strong? How is quality of life factored in?

Quality over quantity.

I'm finding that I straddle the natural and conventional theories and want to maximize the most from both. I'm not going to swallow an entire recommendation without questioning it. I'm not going to make my decision out of fear. I'm going to do this my way. There are no guarantees in any of this.

I cannot suppress my anxiety about work. When do I get to go back to teaching? And, how much more time will be sacrificed for treatment? It isn't just that if I don't work I don't get paid. I'm in the process of building my pilates clientele. This is all such an unwelcome interruption. A scary one. I'm sure it will be fine but, I cannot ignore the reality of it. I wish I had 10 hours of research or writing or consulting work to do from home in the meanwhile.

I want Drain Out so I can return to yoga and pilates. I cannot lift my right arm above shoulder-height and I'm having some sharp pain in my arm and underarm. You know, the numb one. How can it be numb and hurt too? Paradox.

Ending on a positive note: Happy Valentines Day! I got to spend a leisurely day with my Valentine. Watching the sunset over the Pacific with the man I love is such a gift.

Even the big girl panties don't cover the drain

Okay, I risk redundancy with my obsession with the drain but I cannot hide it, I cannot escape it, I certainly cannot pretend that it isn't there. It is a real, daily reminder that something. is. really. wrong.

I am including a photo of said drain, omitting the spot where it comes out of my upper ribcage because that is just gross. Just follow that long, blood-clotted tube up to a hole about two inches below my hairy armpit. Oh yes, there is some tape on my skin and several gauze bandages to absorb the leaks.

This week will be marked by a Remove the Drain Party. Please feel free to comment. Again, I love having comments here all in the same spot. Nothing profound needed, just acknowledgments or suggestions are so welcome!!

So, I'm going to ask the doctor to release the drain to take home with me. I'd like a big ritual. A dramatic ritual. Environmentally friendly, of course. Stab it, whack it with a bat, chop it, you name it--I am open!! I'm not usually a violence advocate but, I think that this drain needs a beating. A big, dramatic beating. Todd suggested stringing it up like a pinata....I like it.

In this disease with shades of gray, I think killing the drain is a healthy symbol of control. Of black and white. I've had to surrender so much, to have faith in a questionable future with uncertain remedies, I'd like to have something concrete.

As for the rest of today. Overall lovely. I'm feeling so restless at being confined. But, we went for a walk at Batiquitos lagoon. I love that place. It is a beautiful trail where you can enjoy the kiss of the ocean breeze, watch egrets and ducks while away the day, and be surrounded by trees and pure nature. And, San Diego hit 69 degrees and sunny today. I love living here.

More visitors today: thank you Randi and Lauren! Randi made us the most incredible vegetarian organic chili. Must get the recipe. It was truly the best chili I've ever had. Yummy. Todd and I stuffed ourselves. Two servings each. Oink.

And Lauren brought me the latest trashy gossip magazine. And an Emerald Bliss. I forgot how those taste. The evil Jimbo juicemaker wouldn't cut it with a banana. He is a bad person. But, I'm boosting my immune system. Green, green, green. I feel like with the help of my friends, I am doing all I can to fight this cancer with nutrition. Lots of vegetables, Super Greens and Girl Scout cookies. Balance, right?

And, la piece de resistance: Lisa sent me the cat hat!! Like the one in the photo several posts back I regretted not buying. Lisa--how did you find it? I love it. I am the cat lady in the cat hat. :) Most people who know me know that I am the crazy old cat lady in training. I don't see any issue with letting the rest of the world know. Nothing to hide these days.

1 leap forward, 2 steps back..Post-op

Okay, I'm trying to be positive because I was wishing, wishing, wishing that the remaining lymph nodes were clear and they are. Very pleased that it hasn't traveled further into my body. That means we caught it relatively early.

So, 1 node of 10 is positive. My sister had 8, so that gives me a benchmark. Her treatment was brutal--she is the strongest woman I know and survived but, it hurt every moment to see what she had to endure.

I thought that just one teeny, weeny, tiny, little node would mean no chemotherapy but, the doctor extinguished that hope and told me that:

1)It is still positive,
2)It still metastasized,
3)and that even though it didn't get far, she believes chemo will be in order.

Epiphany: once a lawyer, always a lawyer. I found myself bargaining with the doctor to avoid chemo. Again, I felt like I was in a movie observing myself as a third person. How many ways can Claire reframe the question until she gets the answer she wants? Believe me, I tried!! I did not get it.

We meet with the medical oncologist next week, who is the dictator of the "recipe" for further treatment. My best friend's mom Judy, who is like a second mom to me, has been incredibly helpful and supportive through this process, with an invaluable backround as an oncology nurse. She explained to me they make up a unique cocktail/recipe based on a variety of factors, not just the node. Another week of waiting....

I'm still going to do my best to learn if there are alternatives to that dreaded C. I'm still not sure that I am willing to go there. I don't know that I believe it is the true solution. I know it kills the cancer cells but, so many people I've seen go through it never have the same immune system again. I just see it as such a permanent poisoning of my entire system. But, I will listen to the oncologist with an open mind. As open as I am able. I am not ruling it out.

Again, let me emphasize that I am grateful that the cancer did not spread farther. But, I also need time to process what I call the two steps back. There is no black and white here. Shades of gray. And, I hope people can understand and respect the need to acknowledge and process the negative.

Because sometimes, things just suck. No silver lining. No false cheer. Optimism tempered by pragmatism? Who knows? Perhaps I'll be enlightened by the end of this process. Again, I cannot pretend that I am not disappointed about some of today's news. Here goes the venting:

When they did my lumpectomy, they took out margins of healthy tissue surrounding the tumor. Apparently, they have to go back in for a second surgery because there was not quite enough of a clear margin on the section of the lump where the "satellite" tumor was. So, they have to open me back up, go in and "shave off" a little more flesh. More anethesia, more surgery. Not happy about that at all. This will occur most likely in 2 weeks. Really??? All that for a centimeter and a half?

Even more annoying: this Drain is still in until at least Tuesday. I cannot teach until then. I cannot start any physical therapy on the arm that I cannot lift up beyond shoulder height until Drain is gone. I cannot wear anything that pulls over my head and my zipper/button front tops are very limited. The doctor suggested I put the Drain in a fanny pack and blouse my top out over it. Granted, she's only seen me in a hospital gown or she would know I don't own anything that would blouse out over a fanny pack. I am not buying new clothes to dress the Drain.

Also, I learned that my underarm will be permanently numb. And, they want me to wear a sleeve whenever I fly because of barometric pressure changes......not sure if that is forever too. Apparently, some nerves are "sacrificed" to take out the lymph nodes. I get to be fitted for said sleeve. Sure that will be interesting....a smartass friend sent me a website for DivaSleeves...nice.

So, back to the positive: it only spread to one node. My dear old friend Robert came by and did some healing energy work and I took a lovely peaceful nap with Jake. Todd's back and came to the appointment with me and I am very lucky to have his support. I got more amazing care packages: I am SPOILED. Love it. I now have a stuffed bunny and an angel bear watching out for me.

The Drain remains and the armpit is still hairy....maybe I can grow it long enough to do a combover if necessary down the road?

Foot Massages rock......

Today was a good day, despite still having the drain that just keeps on draining. I'm supposed to be under 30ccs of whatever it is that is exiting my hairy underarm for 2 consecutive days. I've already had 75ccs today. That means we are out to Sunday at a minimum. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG I really wanted it out so I could heal more over the weekend and teach on Monday. But, I cannot teach with the evil drain attached.

Still no test results. Take your time path lab, take your time. No hurry.

Luckily, today was full of wonderful visits and calls. My dear friend Angie drove down from LA with her faithful companion Puffy to bring me lunch and flowers. How cool is that? I am so spoiled. She also walked me. She had Puffy on one arm, me on the other. Well, I exaggerate. I walked without a leash but, still feel like I'm being walked, as opposed to going for a walk. It is beautiful outside, sunny, clear and breezy. It felt good to be outside, if only for a brief stroll.

As Angie was exiting stage left, Carmel entered, with a beautiful tray of fresh veggies and fruits and her massage tools. Since I still have the godforsaken drain in and we couldn't do a full massage, Carmel gave me the most amazing foot massage. Reminds me of Pulp Fiction and one of my favorite scenes, no, not "look at the big brain on Brad" but, when John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson debate the art of foot massage. If Carmel had worked her magic on Mia Wallace's feet, I'm sure Marcellus would have had thrown her out of a window too. Amazing. Thank you, thank you!!!

We briefly debated wigs, should that be an issue in the upcoming months (no, no, no). I did decide I want big hair. I'm talking late 1980s, spiral perm. Big. Fluffy. Long. Tawny Kitaen in the Whitesnake video. But, that isn't going to be an issue. Just in case.

My day's activities took me out of the house for the first time. Back to Living Waters and Lacey for my apres-surgery colonic. I feel like I managed to purge some of that anesthesia, valium, percocet and ambien. Who knew that I would find it so soothing but, it feels very powerful to have some control of ridding my body of poisons.

Todd got home earlier than expected, which makes me very happy. A quiet night before the big Post-op appointment tomorrow. Fingers crossed that we've got results and they are what we want to hear. Clear, clear, clear.

Amazing what stopping percocet will do for your psyche. Pain meds do not make me a happy girl. I may be repeating myself. I should probably go back and read my prior entries. Here I am thinking I'm learning something new every day and perhaps I'm just repeating myself. And rambling. Naahh.

Today was exponentially better than yesterday. And so on. Saturday, that nightmare blur of leaking drains, teary eyes and sheer despair seems far away. I feel more like me today. Less like the defeated, sad little shell of Claire. I can't help but talk about myself in the third person because throughout these last weeks, I've felt like I am in a movie. Even with my vivid imagination, I couldn't have scripted this.

I am ready for the results and ready for the removal of the drain.

I've figured out how to shower with the drain without yanking it numerous painful times. You kneel. Or squat. Or for the yogis out there, take frog pose. This position prevents the drain from pulling out the opening in your flesh. You can do all kinds of things in frog pose, like washing your hair, adding conditioner, rinse and repeat. Do not, I repeat, do not attempt to shave your legs.

I do need help. I need someone to shave my right armpit.

Those who know me well know that grooming is very important to me. As is balance. How can I have one hairy armpit with a drain coming out. I'm sorry, a numb, hairy armpit. Not pretty. Not like I am at my sexiest these days: but, the armpits need to be cleared. Any volunteers? I am serious.

I continue to receive lovely messages, visitors, gifts and support. I continue to be blown away by it all. The Camp women rock. Everyone rocks!

I have to say that I feel very popular. Sorry if that is dorky but, if we were in high school, I'd win Homecoming Queen, no contest. And, I didn't get that first time around. I am so happy, so blessed, so warm inside at all the love. And, lucky for me, Todd was Quarterback so, he knows how to escort the HQ.

I'm off to start my New Moon puzzle. Maybe I'll put in Twilight while I do it. Or, the New Moon soundtrack. Decisions, decisions.

How to stuff a watermelon into....

Today started off extremely roughly. Imagine trying to stuff a watermelon into your nostril.

No, wait. Imagine trying to stuff me, the godforsaken drain that I cannot stop complaining about, and several gauze sponges into an old sports bra with just two arms. First, I tried the "stripping the drain" because I could see blood clots and it was leaking. Gross, gross, gross. In my awkward attempts, I practically yanked the drain out by accident, which resulted in me almost fainting and throwing up simultaneously. Dizzy with pain and frustration, I howled like a wolf a few times, thus scaring the cats, who were watching the entire process quizzically. They prefer when I either nap, feed or pet them.

This hellish endeavor lasted almost 40 minutes and by the time I was done, I was angry and close to tears. And, because I'd decided to stop taking the percocet today, it hurt too.

A generous friend offered to not only take me to a healer she knew, but also to drive me to LA to see her. When she picked me up, she had an Emerald Bliss for me. It almost made me stay home! It doesn't get tastier people. Trust me. Anyway, I was not a happy girl when she picked me up or when we arrived in Hollywood for the appointment.

It went well, although I didn't have that immediate connection or resonance that you sometimes have with people. The healer told me immediately that I needed to let go of the anger and resentment in order to start healing. I'll work on it because I'm still very upset about waking up with the drain. I did feel very negative, helpless and not up for the fight when I arrived at her house. Defeat emanated from every pore.

After the session, I feel more like myself. Not quite feisty but, somehow lighter and less hopeless. The drain is still leaking and the feeling is coming back to my shoulder. Unfortunately, it is returning in electric shockwaves but, nonetheless it isn't numb.

I called twice for the pathology results today and was lectured by the nurse. No, the results won't be ready today. No,(you annoying little pest as I told you yesterday!) they probably won't be ready tomorrow. The earliest is Thursday. So, I will call again tomorrow. All the other results were ready earlier than they expected. I am praying that the cancer did not spread beyond the sentinel node and that all those nodes they removed will be clear. So, only radiation needed. That's what I'm hoping for. I cannot face the alternative.

I want the drain removed so I can start moving like myself again. So, I can consider moving around and teaching again. It seems very far away at the moment. Recalling balancing on my right arm in side plank last week seems like a distant dream.

Support makes all the difference....

and not just in the sports bras! RIP to the bra above: this is the one I cut opened and pinned shut with safety pins prior to breaking down and having Todd fetch me the giant recommended hideous harness.

I woke up this morning feeling so much better. Perhaps the fact that the damn drain isn't pouring all over helps a great deal. But, I think that the collective energy I've been receiving stroked me with magical hands overnight and the healing has begun. How did I get to be so lucky and not have to travel this path alone?

In my defense on the note of patience to Jenny Lell’s comment--no, patience is not and never has been my virtue. Most of my friends and other unsuspecting listeners have heard my rants while I am driving. Usually something along the lines of, "la la la, I'm going to teach my favorite yoga class right now, feeling really Zen...YOU STUPID G--D---MO--FO--LEARN TO DRIVE!!!!!." Sorry but, these people need to pay attention and learn how to drive. My Corsican blood cannot be denied. No matter how calm and happy I feel, the bad drivers get me every time. Oh well, nobody is perfect, right?

Today, I feel semi-normal and am going to wean off these meds. I'm not sure how I will feel tomorrow when I get the results of the lymph node dissection. I am praying that the evil alien hasn't been able to infiltrate very far past the sentinel node. Perhaps that extra-virtuous shot of wheatgrass I had last week blocked its progress. Perhaps the Emerald Bliss will prevent it too. I'm visualizing all these greens acting like shields, battling the nasty creepy mold-like infiltrators.

I'm going to enjoy today and have Todd walk me around the block now. Some sun and fresh air has to help.

My arm feels very weird. The right shoulder and upper half of my arm feels semi-numb. Is that the lymphedema? I sure hope it dissipates soon.

I am hoping that when the drain comes out I can go teach. Maybe by Thursday or Friday. Then again, I don't know what I'll feel like when they tell me what they want to do treatment-wise. Not knowing is really tough.

Okay, going to try to just focus on today.

Drain, drain go away.

Drain, drain, go away, never come back any day.

Poetry has never been my strong suit. Neither has patience. Seriously, this drain is by far the worst part of this experience thus far. Even worse than the radioactive isotope-thingy they shot into my boob pre-surgery. The injections are just painful but, this drain is disgusting. Worse then looking at the bandage and imagining my scar. Worse even then having to wear the blue mask in the hospital. Have I made my point?

Seriously. I had a moment upstairs when we were going for Sports Bra #4 when little black dots floated before my eyes and I almost collapsed. I made the mistake of actually looking at where the drain was emerging out of my underarm. Not a good idea.

The drain wasn't draining properly and I've been soaking through all these clothes, towels, and sheets. I called the hospital today and the lady on call asked me if I'd been "stripping the drain"....um, no. No idea what that means. Long story short: you are supposed to pull on the drain 3 or 4 times without pulling it out of the skin completely. Sure, that is intuitive. How would I know that??

Then, I'm supposed to stay compressed in the hideous sports bra to help the healing process, the internal stitches, etc. But, the stupid thing was so tight that I think it blocked the drainage tube. Another lululemon sports bra is toast. For my next outfit change because I couldn't breathe in the hideous zippered contraption, I decided to step into a slightly oversized lululemon bra and pull it up. Success! My achievement for the day.

I had a nightmare. Drugs will do that to you. I dreamt that they called me from lululemon and told me that they were putting my ambassadorship on hold because of all the upcoming treatment. I was devastated. After all I went through in the mystic tan booth.....

I feel like my life is on hold. I can't teach until this drain is removed. I feel like I can't leave the house until I go have the drain removed. Once the drain is gone, who knows what the future holds?

How can I not go insane? Taking it day by day is impossible when I look down at this drain, impossible as I cannot indulge in my favorite escape of reading because I have the attention span of a gnat, impossible because I don't know what they are going to tell me on Tuesday regarding recommended treatment protocols.

I'm not ready to "begin the fight" right now. I don't feel like activating my inner warrior to get fired up for battle. I'm exhausted. I've been fighting my entire life and I really want to just "be" for the second half.

And, by just "being", I mean publishing a novel, publishing more health and wellness articles and a book, succeeding on ExerciseTV, helping others through my teaching, living on a LARGE scale. I've finally found my calling after my forays through law, sales, charity work....damn it....I don't have time to deal with this disease. I have too much to do. I've finally found my man. I'm just getting started and this whole cancer bullshit is very inconvenient.

When I first got the diagnosis, I was very pragmatic: I will get the lump removed, get my radiation, which will be annoying and time-consuming, but, I will be done in time to go to Australia with Todd in May. Boom, boom, boom. Get it done. This evil drain is disturbing my plans.

A wise woman suggested to me that I sit back for the ride and allow others to fight for me. It sounds good. I am humbled by all the offers of help from those close to me and those who really aren't that close to me too. I am not sure how to sit back and allow others to do for me. Not in this sense anyway.

Not much to report....

Today is definitely a "Why Me?" kind of day. I am looking forward to having these days behind me. It is pretty tough.

The drain is leaking and I'm now sporting Outfit #3 of the day. Because I had soaked through the ace bandage the doctor wrapped me in, I sent Todd out to get the previously recommended hideous sports bra.

Let's try to find some positive: thanks for all the wonderful messages, calls and emails. You are amazing. Thanks Steve and Carol for the beautiful flowers, thanks Kim for more beautiful flowers, thanks Jessie for the Emerald Bliss sans wheatgrass (much better!) and chocolate covered strawberries, thanks Zoe for your love, empathy, support and having a daughter that is a girl scout. Thanks Anni for setting me up with your healer in LA. Most of all, thanks to Todd for playing nursemaid to a miserable patient.

Please keep calling and writing.

My sister and dad are coming to visit on the 23rd and I am so grateful for the opportunity to see them. I hope my brother can come too.

I wish I had a fast-forward button. I want to know my exact treatment protocol, my completion date, how, when, what, why. Methinks I need to go day by day. God give me the strength to do this.

Definitely not Christmas or my Birthday

Was the wig party we attended last fall a foreshadowing? I don't think the Marilyn look is me.

I just popped some painkillers, drained the disgusting grenade-looking drain under my arm and am just sitting here devastated. Oreo is on my lap and I will go to bed very soon. Not up to talking quite yet but, figured I'd go ahead and write a little bit.

I did not expect to wake up with a drain under my arm and everything that implies. The cancer spread to the lymph nodes and that means in all probability chemotherapy and radiation. I cannot believe it. Really cannot believe it.

When I woke up, I was in excruciating pain. It felt like someone speared an ice pick through my breast. 10 out of 10 on the Pain scale. When I realized that there was a drain, I sobbed unreservedly.

Percentages are usually my friend. Statistically, there was a 10 or so percent chance that the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes. Presently, I am not enjoying being in the top 10 percent. I've always prided myself on excelling, prided myself on never doing anything halfway. I was in the top 3 percentile with my LSAT score. Top percentile in IQ, top percentiles in body fat percentage, top spelling bee in elementary school. Hell, even top percentile for some of my old sales jobs, although that was only luck.

What I wouldn’t do to be in the middle of the bell curve right now.

When I first met my friend Kirsten, we went to Cabo. We bonded and shared stories. Over many frosty margaritas. I recall telling her then that as she got to know me better, she'd see that I live life on a Big scale. No halfway. Again, I really wish that wasn't the case right now. Couldn't I have been in the 80% with a benign lump? The 90% that hadn't spread?

Yes, I am "Why Me'ing" right now. I'm sure I'll move on from that but, it is all I feel right now.

Let's see: silver lining. Digging deep here: Todd did stop and get us Mish-Mosh soup from Milton’s and it was yummy and perfect. Oreo is still on my lap and his purring is making me happy. The forecast calls for rain all weekend and I am glad. It fits.

I am sure that I will pull myself up and beat the crap out of this. But, I really wish that I just didn't have to.

Surgery Eve...time to put on the Granny Panties

This photo is from my 40th birthday party in Beverly Hills. What a fun night! I remember this moment clearly. I remember exactly what I wished for at that moment.

I wanted to find true love, I wanted to find my purpose and direction in my career, I wanted to get rid of drama in my life, I really wanted the cake to be chocolate inside, I wanted to keep all the beautiful friends and family in my life who have always been there for me. And, I got all of it. Every single bit. I forgot to make a request for my health.....Tonight, I will blow out a candle wishing for health in addition to maintaining the rest of my wonderful, blessed rollercoaster of a life.

As my friend Lissa likes to say, "It is time to put on your Big Girl Panties." Today we decided that big girl panties wouldn’t suffice: time for the Granny Panties.

Surgery Eve doesn't have quite the same impact as Christmas Eve or even Birthday Eve, my personal favorite. But, there is the same sense of anticipation. The inability to relax, the fear of not sleeping, the wonder of what will be unwrapped. Definitely an Ambien-night. I'll be really mad if I end up addicted to Ambien. HA! Sleep is vital at this point by whatever means.

My biggest worry is that I cannot eat after midnight and I don't check in until 12pm. Really??!! I'm going to starve. If I don't get fed every two to three hours, it isn't pretty. Even if it is veggies...yes, I'm adapting to all the greens.

Todd is taking me to a yummy dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant. I've got it all planned: stuff myself with pasta, bread and whatever isn't nailed down to the table, bring home leftovers and have a second feeding right before midnight. I need something to stick to my ever-shrinking belly. I swear, the only thing that makes me lose weight is a break-up or cancer. All this nervous energy and all these veggies....is that a silver lining?

So, I am all prepared for tomorrow:

Health Care Directive, check.
List of phone numbers for Todd to call after surgery, check.
My surgery outfit (see, just how you lay out your outfit on Christmas Eve for the big day)....maybe I will be able to convince myself that tomorrow is Christmas.
Fuzzy purple "slipper-socks" courtesy of my friend Anaise, check.
Rolling Stones vintage zip-front sweatshirt, check.
My favorite fancy white sweat pants and.....

I was directed to bring a sports bra that closes in front for my après-surgery outfit. Well, I could only find one that cost almost $50 and it was atrocious. I'm talking hideous. Never to be worn again. I am sorry but, I am not spending $50 on something that looks like your 80 year old grandmother would find frumpy!! So, I went to Target and got a $10 regular front close bra. It should work, right? What are they going to do? I figure they can pack me and what is left of my bosom right into it. And, zip up the Rolling Stones right over it.

I did get a highly entertaining care package today. Lots of healing positive items, including a Dr. Seuss book and my favorite item: a small "beck and call" bell so I don't have to bellow at Todd to bring me bon-bons. How have I made it this far in life without that bell?? Thank you Anaise. It is fabulous!! Todd may not think so by the end of the weekend....

I feel very grateful. Very spoiled, pampered and loved. The outpouring of support is keeping me buoyant despite the situation. And, I love hearing from some old friends that I haven't spoken to in a long time. Amazing how friendship lasts over the years and memories never fade. An old sorority sister reminded me of Meg and I's former preference for jugs of Peach Riunite wine in college. A reminder of how our tastes have evolved!!

I'm going to sign off and get ready for a romantic date with the love of my life. I'm not sure if I will write pre-surgery tomorrow or not. Thanks for listening and allowing me this forum. xo,Claire

Day One Too Many

If I didn't have my teaching, I think I would be completely insane. My yoga and Pilates students are absolutely amazing and remind me every day why I left corporate America. Sharing positive energy and knowing that I am helping them as much as they are helping me is incredibly powerful. Everyone at Sculpt Fusion Yoga has been so warm and caring, giving me an incredible amount of support and love. Thank you, thank you, and thank you.

I cannot fathom what this experience would have been like if I still sold legal and business software or God forbid, still practiced law. Can you imagine? "Claire, I know you are having surgery Friday so, can you come in Sunday to make up your billable hours please?"

I feel like I'm biding my time. This week is marked as unique because I only have one doctor's appointment. It is a big one. Surgery. The day after tomorrow. Tick tock. Tick tock. TGIF in the sense that I'll know if the cancer has spread on Friday afternoon.

I've been trying to stay really busy and I think the condo is cleaner than it has ever been before. I'm talking mopped floors, washed rugs, sparkling refrigerator drawers....the flurry of activity helped me not think. Key to sanity.

I feel strong, supported, loved and optimistic. I'm still pissed off that I have this disease. Angry. Wrong. Cancer,Cancer,Cancer. What the hell? I did actually have someone say to me that I was lucky that it was "just breast cancer"....

Are you kidding me? Just because now 1 in 8 women have breast cancer, up from 1 in 20 only 30 years ago, doesn't make it less of a tragic disease. Yes, it is treatable, yes, the survival rates are high but, the point is that you have to SURVIVE. A yoga student gave me an article called "The Unbearable Lightness of Breast Cancer", written by a survivor who was appalled at how every woman stricken with the disease was expected to put on a happy face and make the best of it. She was upset at the lack of anger. It was an interesting twist.

I know that I am the type of person who tries to make the best of any situation. Who makes things work. No matter what. I've been told many times that I am a Survivor. I don't know that I like that term. Life isn't something to be survived, it should be savored. I am not savoring this experience. But, I don't know if I will every figure out the why of this situation. I will deal with it. I'll be strong. But, I don't have to like it and I'm not going to pretend that it is not a big deal.

I feel like I should add a "So there!"

Time to curl up in the newly laundered sheets and comforter with Jake and Oreo and attempt to read. It is strange: my favorite pastime of reading has been marred by my shortened attention span. No more! Going to hit the books.

Day 2 down, 3 to go.....

All I remember about Monday was trying to drink the Emerald Bliss from Jimbos. I did add the two shots of wheat grass as directed. I was proud of myself for going back and trying again after the broken juicer incident last week. The Emerald Bliss should be renamed Bitter Bile. Ugh. It took me 45 minutes to gag down half of the 16 ounces. Yuck. I'd rather chew on grass outside. Thankfully, Monday is over.

This morning was fabulous: my long-awaited photo shoot for my lululemon ambassador photo that will hang in the Carlsbad lululemon.

Becoming an ambassador was a goal of mine for the last few years. Ever since my dear friend Angie Stewart, of www.angiestewartfitness.com, became an ambassador for lululemon in Beverly Hills, I was intrigued by the program. Lululemon, for those of you who don't leave the house, is an amazing yoga and fitness clothing company built on principles of community. Health, wellness, living in the present moment, making the most of each second of the day: it resonates! As an ambassador, I represent lululemon in the community and am also recognized by them as a Yoga and Pilates professional that embodies their values. Pretty cool.

Ambassadors have a large photo on the wall of the store and I love that! Once a Leo, always a Leo. But, it became significantly more meaningful to me after my diagnosis. Memorializing myself pre-surgery is powerful. We shot at the beach in South Carlsbad. Sunrise was amazing, although I was freezing my tail off!! Sitting on ice plant and balancing on the cliff edge over the ocean looks great but, it was cold. Oh, the price we pay. I loved having Laura, Sherry and Meredith there to ensure all went smoothly and the photographer Tai was great.

Teaching went well today and I got to take a nap. Jake and Oreo were thrilled that I'd seen the light and finally understood that afternoons are best spent snuggling and sleeping. I love my kitties: simple, pure affection.

Day 2 of this week down, 3 to go. I've got Wednesday and Thursday tightly scheduled so I don't have time to brood about surgery.