Change is the only constant

Lots of focus these days on remembering to take things day by day. To be grateful. To savor each moment when I feel good, from basking in the San Diego sunshine, enjoying a movie on the couch with Todd, cuddling with Oreo and Jake, to smiling at the commercial for the premiere of Eclipse next month. Yes, it makes me smile.

Just as I try to enjoy each positive moment, I am trying to remind myself that the hours of feeling fatigued, the numbness in my hands and feet, the new weird red marks on my hands, the waves of depression that inevitably settle in won't last forever. It isn't permanent.

Nothing is.

I recall consoling friends who were going through difficult situations to remember that things would get better. I remember others giving me the same advice when I experienced the lowest lows and felt hopeless. The tide always turns. Really, the only thing we can count on in this lifetime is that nothing stays the same. That you never know what beautiful experience is awaiting you tomorrow. To hold on during the lows in order to ascend to the highs once again.

Today, ten days out from Round 4, I really still don't feel very well. I'm doing my best to stay optimistic. Yoga, meditation, writing in my journal, staying connected with my friends and family, enjoying nature. Part of me just wants to go to sleep for the next five weeks and wake up and this will all be in the rear view mirror.

I do know that this final climb is going to be the most challenging for me. I'm simply exhausted. I'm extra sensitive and emotional. Prickly. My hearing is more acute. Like a bat. My sense of smell is sharper each day. Like a hound. I am the BatHound.

Positive for today: I am back to teaching this week. I'll close with that high note.

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life..la la...la la..la la

I haven't felt much like writing because I've been feeling so down that I didn't really want to spread that energy out into the universe. God forbid anyone ever read my private journal where I really vent! I'm swimming up from the depths so, here goes.

As I discussed last time, I cannot believe that four months have elapsed and that I am in the midst of chemotherapy, baldness, weakness, and cancer. The cycles of this treatment really do vary, although they are seemingly the same. The fatigue is striking my muscles hard again this time. My legs feel like lead bricks. What is a lead brick? The heaviest thing I can muster at present.

Anyway, all of my limbs feel like I am wading through molasses. Although I'd really like to go for a walk, I just cannot. Yesterday, we went for 15 minutes and Todd had to push me up the hill back into the door.

I did wander around Target for a while today, earning my spot in the FB group, "I went to Target for shampoo and spent $150." Well, my title should be I went to Target for anything BUT shampoo, right? Nonetheless, I worked the aisles, and rewarded myself with a new lipgloss, and not one, but two books that look interesting enough to finish. I barely restrained myself from purchasing the lovely blue Team Edward T-shirt. I want it. If someone happens to buy it for me, in size Small, I will wear it. In public. Hint. Hint. (that is Team Edward. Size Small)

I choose to count the Target excursion as 30 minutes of exercise. Anything not flat out on my back, as I currently am, has to count as activity.

Tomorrow will be an intensive rest day, complemented with an afternoon massage. Maybe a good deep tissue massage will stimulate these semi-worthless limbs. Another strange side-effect that is impacting me for the first time is some tingling and numbness in both my feet and hands. I can't recall which of the three drugs, T, A, or C has that fun result but, I feel it. While I stand or walk. Currently, my left wrist is tingling. I am officially a science project.

Needless to say, I am crabby and not particularly friendly today. Poor Todd, having to live in the cross-fire. I am sorry, my love.

Today, I personify my pet peeve person. You know, the one who wants to just dump all their problems in your lap but doesn't want to lift a finger to try to solve them? the emotional vampire? Yes, that is me. I have a tough time abiding the victim mentality, but it looks like I'm wallowing in it for now. No suggestions, no silver lining, no bright side of life. (enter Monty Python Bright Side of Life song here)

I can confess all my darkness because I am rising above it. I can feel it. Soon. And, my favorite person, Randi, did drop off her super-sinful, perfect, delicious brownies.

There isn't much that a tasty, homemade brownie cannot fix.

Incubation Weekend

It is 8:12pm on Sunday night and I only recently got out of bed.

The. Entire. Day. Was. Spent. Sleeping.

If indeed this journey through cancer is a time for me to cocoon and rest while brilliance percolates, I made a great deal of progress today.

My eyes are getting heavy.....back to work.

A Perfect Saturday

What a fantastic morning!

54 people came out to the free community class I taught at Lululemon Carlsbad Forum this morning. Many of my regular students from Pilates, the yoga studios where I teach, active.com, and daily life came in to support me. Thank you for making it a very special morning. We packed a lot of fun into a small space. All I can say is that I love teaching.

I'm still riding high on the class this morning. I'm not sure if people realize how uplifting it is to see their smiling faces. When I'm teaching, I'm in a zone where nothing else matters except for providing a beautiful practice for my students. My goal is for my students to be fully present on the mat and to enjoy themselves. And, the gift for me is that I am fully, truly present.

One of my favorite people on earth, Jessie, attended. I got to meet Jessie and Justin's new baby: the perfect Justin Daniel Junior. Adorable! After class, I took Jessie into the bathroom to see my bald head. She astutely observed that it must be a lot of work to don the hair, the hat, the makeup before leaving the house. Exactly. Oh well, at least I can leave the house, right?

Because my physical strength seems to be returning, I'll embark on a longer walk today. Todd and I are going down to the ocean to enjoy the sea breeze and sunshine. We are so lucky to live within a mile of the beach! Later, I'm surprising Todd with a nice, romantic dinner out. I'll create a smoky eye, wear Sheila on my head and stilettos on my feet. I will feel feminine and sexy again if it kills me. Or, if it takes a few hours of preparations.

Time to bask in a perfect Saturday afternoon. No worries. Cancer doesn't get to hold court today.

The Incubator

Thanks to some rest with the cats, some good friends and lots of love in the air, I am gradually coming back to life. I still feel weak, tired and not particularly peppy but, it is only Tuesday night, right?

Over the last few months, I've wrestled with the paradox of "this is only temporary" and "live in the present." Certain things lend themselves to the realm of temporary, like puffy eyes, upset tummies or extreme fatigue. I know that I won't look like Uncle Fester forever. I hope! I will eat cruciferous vegetables again without fear. And, my "claire-level" energy will return.

Certain things, however, do not lend themselves so well to this premise. This is my life, dammit, and I want to live every minute of it. For me to be fully present, I need to experience, I need to live, I need to be involved. Sight, sound, taste, smell, feel. Passion. Intensity. One hundred percent. Sacrificing to the halfway, the mediocre: not for me. If I can help it.

I'm not saying that I don't need my quiet time. Yoga, meditation, lazy naps with my cats curled up around me like two sleek guardians. I love to lay on the couch and read a good book all day. I like to lounge in the sunshine with a frivolous magazine. Not because I have to. I don't do well with being told what I can or cannot do. Cancer treatment is no different.

My day was highlighted by two wonderful conversations with two very different women, both of whom I have not seen in far too long. Both beautiful, wise blondes from two really crappy jobs in Los Angeles that yielded really cool friendships. Maybe I've had so many jobs because I needed to find all these amazing friends that grace my life now? Thank you Jenny and Camille for the wisdom, love and comfort.

The sage Camille offered some concrete nuggets for me. To help my existential struggle with the same old questions, she suggested a reminder of "this is why I decided to do chemotherapy." Back in February, I decided to have chemotherapy based upon all the knowledge and input I had gathered at the time. Tap back into the reasons I said yes to the drugs. I shouldn't second guess myself now.

And, Camille created the Incubator concept. She suggested that instead of being "on hold" or "treading water" during these months, perhaps I'm just incubating. A higher level of brilliance is percolating, something that I'd dared not even dream to date. I need to be a bald, little egg while this transformation occurs and I can then blossom into my full potential.

I like it. For now, I'll continue covering my bald little head with warm hats and fake hair, knowing that I'll emerge somehow new come summer.

Three down....

To deny one's own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of one's life. It is no less than a denial of the soul. -- Oscar Wilde

I'm trying to recall the last few days. I feel like I've just emerged from a weeklong dream. Close! During the third round of chemotherapy on Thursday, I actually fell asleep. Or, passed out. Negligible details, right? I think the combination of Ativan and Benadryl with the TAC knocked me out. For days. I'm still fuzzy and piecing the last few days together.

I do recall that I taught yoga at Frogs yesterday morning, went by Lululemon Carlsbad Forum for a re-fueling of fresh spring tops. Passion and Lagoon: how can you not be fired up with colors like that? I'll be teaching the community class on Saturday morning May 1st at 9am. Join me if you are local!

Let's see, that brings us to Friday afternoon. I received the infamous painful $6500 Neulasta shot and acupuncture and Todd and I took Megan to the airport. We owe Will, her husband, for letting us borrow her for so long. There are no words.

I've been sleeping since then. Literally all day. My cats are very proud and have confirmed that I am, indeed, one of them. I dragged myself up out of bed a few times only to crawl back under the covers. I don't feel nauseous or ill, I just cannot keep my eyes open. Perhaps this is what people mean by fatigue increasing over time?

Todd runs the La Jolla Half Marathon first thing in the morning. This will be the third year that I meet him at the finish line. Meaning that I will drive down and meet him and not that I will be running the race with him. He always finishes in the top percentage for his age group and it is quite impressive.

I better go back to bed so I don't miss it!

Getting better

I'm not planning on quitting the chemo regime. I'm already bald and invested in two rounds. I am just not happy about it. And, I'd really rather stop at four rounds instead of six. Perhaps if I say it enough, it will happen. Positive manifestation, right? Four, Quatre, Quattro, Four, Four, 4.

Finally, today, I feel better. Some of the darkness has lifted from my brain and a little more light filtered in. Physically, I feel okay. Weird eye-tics and bloody nose aside. I've had good workouts every day, including some restorative yoga this afternoon. I've eaten well and been consistent with my numerous supplements. I've received several calls, messages, cards as well as uplifting comments on this blog. It helps so much. I guess if there were ever a time I needed all the love, it is now.

The way my brain works is that something has to make sense to me before I can accept it. And, the lack of guarantees and grey areas of this treatment are hard to reconcile. I wish I could have blind faith that I was doing the right thing. It would make this battle much more palatable. Acceptance isn't easy. I'm sure I will be kicking and screaming all the way to June 24th. Or, May 13th if my 4 wish comes true.

I don't have to BE anywhere or DO anything for the next few days and that feels fabulous. Some yoga, some long walks on the beach, some time with my kitties, some reading, some time for reflection. On the road back up.

Fading Reflections

Somehow, I don't think I'll get used to that first look in the mirror in the morning. I feel like I'm disappearing slowly. Inevitably. Like a painting fading in the sun, each time I encounter the reflection, it is fainter. My face, as I know it, seems to be eroding. The brows, the lashes, the color. Will I completely disappear?

Exiting the house is a process. I feel like an alien who puts on the mask, the fake hair and hat, the cloaks of looking "normal" prior to braving the rest of the world. As I sit here writing, I'm wearing my awesome cat hat and PJs. Catching glances of my bald head in the mirror over the last few days has been disturbing. I don't see me.

Compared to this time Round 1, I'm doing significantly better. When the bone pain hit me last round, I was completely incapacitated. This time, I've been on claritin and some meds in anticipation of bone pain and headaches and it seems to be helping enormously. I'm glad that I took off today and tomorrow to give myself the room and space to heal. My brain is floating. One minute, I feel completely present and almost normal and the next I am loopy. In fact, I would say loopy is an accurate current gauge.

This afternoon, Megan walked me and I ambitiously assumed a big jaunt. Fifteen minutes later, we re-entered the condo. Time is relative I suppose. Between Todd and Megan, I've been spoiled rotten over the last week. I wonder if Meg's husband Will will let us keep her? It isn't fair that he gets to have her all to himself. Lucky!

I completed my certification to teach Yoga for Cancer Survivors yesterday. In retrospect, I realize that it may have not been the most auspicious timing but, I did it! I hope to be able to parlay all that I learned from the instructor and other participants to create a nurturing, healing class to help others. And, selfishly, it was healing for me to be in an environment like that as I battle this cancer.

Waves of chemo brain are rolling in and I'm feeling foggy. I'll sign off for tonight but, I am happy that this round seems to be milder and less painful. Knock on wood.

Great news: done with treatment!

April Fools Day! HA. Four rounds to go after today.

Done with Round 2 of chemotherapy. As prior to my first treatment, I went to Lois for acupuncture to help calm down my steroid-amped brain. Steroids make me very talkative and intense. Imagine me in a good mood, magnified exponentially. Lois observed that the yoga class I taught this morning was incredibly challenging. Blame it on the drugs! Magician Lois relaxed me. I'm so lucky to have her help.

Megan came with me, which was really great. I love having her here.

I met with a different oncologist today, as mine is out of town. When we were discussing my bone pain, he called it "bony pain," which I found amusing. He tried to tell me that I should just use tylenol or advil for it. When I tried to elaborate how it had felt like being stretched out on the rack operated by a hooded demon during the Inquisition, complete with bones cracking and breaking, he stuck with his Advil guns. Umm, Not a job for advil.

I had a different chemo nurse today, AJ. She was great. She gave me my benadryl and ativan along with more steroids, the T, the A and The C. Thus, I didn't have any reactions to the Taxotere this time. Yay. The only issue was that she placed the IV needle in a different spot, closer to my wrist. It was incredibly painful and remained so for most of the treatment.

Two girls who are going through treatment concurrently with me, Nancy and Lindsay, had their 2nd round last week and told me that the side-effects were less intense this time. I'm optimistic that will be the case for me. Although, the chemo nurse told me that people like us who are young and healthy often have a harder time because we aren't used to being sick and rundown.

I'm predicting minimal bone pain and stomach upset this round.

I'm getting used to the bald head. It is actually very well shaped, almost good enough to go on a coin! I'm not ready to show it around in public and maybe never will. I'm alternating between the hat hair (shown in photo above), the hat to teach yoga, and I wore the wig yesterday. The wig still feels weird, although everyone swears it looks natural. Day by day with this process. I'm sure I'll figure it out.

I'm really tired. She put some ativan in the IV and I am a sleepy girl.

Round 2 down. 4 to go!

Trying to stay present

How to measure time these days?

The present: Megan arrived today and it is wonderful having her here. Taught three classes. One with hat hair and two in my little beanies.

I freaked out a little bit this morning because the hat-hair elastic strap that goes across the forehead broke. I wasn't prepared to leave the house with only a beanie. So, I stapled it together and went to teach my active.com yoga class. The hat hair wouldn't survive in the heated yoga room at Sculpt Fusion so, I braved it with the cotton beanie. It worked. I just try not to look in the mirror.

The future: Chemo Round #2 is Thursday. I'm trying not to dwell on it
but, I've got to start all the pre-treatments, aka steroids, tomorrow. So much preparation for three hours in the lounge chair at Scripps. So much preparation to get sick. So much stress knowing what is coming. I'm not dreading the actual treatment, just the aftermath. Praying that I can prevent the bone pain this time.

At least I don't have to worry about my hair falling out.

This photo is what came out Saturday morning.

Baby steps.....

Hat hair without the hat....

Once the champagne wore off and reality set in, I realized I am bald. Bald, bald, bald. Although I was surprised to discover that my head is very nicely shaped, I'd really prefer to have some hair covering it. There was no way I was leaving the house. The walk didn't happen yesterday afternoon.

To add insult to injury, not only am I bald, my scalp is tender and painful. Patti recommended a baking soda and water poultice to soothe it. It wasn't pretty to have a white pasty cap, but it was magically refreshing and soothing. Putting the wig or even a hat on just added pressure to my already tender little head.

Rocking the baldness outside of the confines of the condo was not an option. Not happening yet. Or, possibly ever.

Today, I resolved to brave the elements. For Outing #1, Pilates, I wore the wig. Unfortunately, I couldn't quite recall all the techniques to make it look realistic and natural. I looked a bit like Miss Piggy. My students were kind but, I wasn't comfortable. I zoomed home and ripped it off and slapped on some baking soda paste.

For Outing #2, Todd and I walked at the lagoon. I sported the hat hair in a ponytail. It felt relatively natural. But, when I got home, my head was tender again. Back to baldness. It just feels better to have nothing on it right now.

Outing #3 was supposed to be teaching yoga. I chickened out today, however, and got a substitute. I just wasn't ready to face the world protected only with a thin cotton cover. I will do it tomorrow. I do like my cotton beanie and ordered three more in different colors.

I had some more acupuncture this afternoon to deal with the emotional rollercoaster that is my brain these days. I felt incredibly relaxed when I left. Then, I headed back to Patti's for a little wig adjustment. She showed me a few tips, like pulling out the little "baby hair" around my face to soften the hairline. That woman is a miracle worker. We'll see if I can replicate her handiwork when I try it again. I guess it will just take practice. It seems like a lot of work.

Enough about the hair.

How am I really feeling about this latest development? On one hand, I'm a little relieved because it is over. I am bald, bald, bald at last. The anticipation, the horror of losing my hair is over. It was one of the worst aspects of this journey thus far. Now, it is reality. No more anticipation. Just dealing with the present reality.

Round #2 is my new reality. Dealing with the aftermath of Round #2 will be my reality over the next week.

I've also been thinking a lot about what this all means for my career. I'd thought I had it all figured out and was on the brink of getting all I thought I wanted. Perhaps not. There must be a reason why all my career plans are on hold. Why I cannot move forward. Why I can merely tread water by hanging on to some of my classes. I am clinging to the belief that the universe has something huge around the corner for me. I'm just not clear on the path.

Over the last week or so, I've been reminded of my interest in life coaching. My idea had been to combine it with yoga to achieve a true balance between personal and professional life for my clients. Maybe this interim will give me the opportunity to delve into this concept more. An old friend, who is a successful coach, offered to work with me to explore the potential. Who knows? A path to explore.

My best friend Megan is coming out to stay with me for Round #2. She arrives tomorrow and I'm really excited to spend time with her, although it probably won't be that much fun for her. Selfishly, I'm thrilled to have her here anyway.
The sooner I go to sleep, the sooner I get to see Meg.

Apres-Chemo Day 3: Beautiful San Diego

What an amazing day in San Diego!

Lissa picked me up and took me for a walk with Maxwell, her perfect, handsome, big, black dog. We went to one of my favorite spots, the Batiquitos Lagoon. It is a verdant green sanctuary with subtle breezes, breathtaking views of pelicans, egrets, ducks and the water. And best of all, a veritable parade of dogs on their Sunday strolls. Fabulous. For both Maxwell and us!

All that fresh air stirred up an appetite. For some reason, I very specifically craved spaghetti with meat sauce and salad. Interesting that I am craving red meat as I cannot recall the last time I had it. Maybe my red blood cells are crying out for some iron? I really want my dad's spaghetti. He makes the best! Memories of comfort food. Success: Todd and I made the above-referenced wonderful dinner and ate every bite.

Washing my hair today was an odd experience. For some reason, my hair, my teeth and my skin feel weird. I was kind of expecting for a chunk of hair to come out in my hands as I was shampooing. I am trying to prevent my mind from wandering in that direction. I plan on having my girls on SOS emergency dial when that chunk emerges. I know it will be time to head down to Patti's and get my wig. I think that I will freak out.

Who am I kidding? I know that I will freak out. I feel like I've got a handle right now. The minute my baby fine strands exit stage left.....well, the howl will be heard around the globe. And, those of you familiar with the power of these vocal chords, that is not an exaggeration.

We'll see.

I am hoping that the worst is behind me and that all of the horrid tests, scans, surgeries, pokes, pulls, tugs, hog-tying and indignities of the last few months are over. Five more chemo sessions. April 1, April 22, May 13, June 3 and JUNE 24. I'm ready to be done.

I have a trip to Australia to plan after all this time-consuming cancer business.

Five Finger Forehead

Day One of a very long week is winding down. Appointment with Dr. K to discuss the next 18 weeks of treatment. We set up all of the dates and that gives me a small measure of relief. Or control. Or, shall I say, apparent control.

Three vials of blood given. Another ode to my beautiful veins. Apparently, I am the dream destination for any needle or IV. Big, healthy veins. Who knew they'd become such an attribute?

Met with the fantastic Patti at her home salon and found my new hair. She was so sweet, clever and helpful. Her specialty is working with cancer patients and she made my day. She'll customize the wig, making the hairline natural and give me the gift of not looking too different.

Also, we made a startling discovery: I don't have an abnormally large head after all! My head circumference is actually a little smaller than average although my forehead is bigger. Much bigger. I have a Five Finger Forehead as opposed to the normal Three Finger Forehead.

We also ordered a piece that is made to go under a baseball cap or hat and be cooler and super-realistic looking. I think that I'll be going the scarf route for teaching yoga. Now, I need to find some cool Hawaiian print scarves and learn how to tie them. Don't have a clue....I also need some assistance hat shopping!

I left Patti's feeling a little lighter. What a blessing. One less thing to stress over.

Three days until the first "C" treatment. All filled with appointments. I'm not going to list out the rest of the appointments leading up to 8am Thursday morning. I'm going to practice taking this day by day.

Tuesday is Liver biopsy. Maybe. If the head of Interventional Radiology can find the teeny liver spot on the CT scan, he will attempt the biopsy. I hope that he can't see it because I really am dreading them digging into my liver. My friend Angie is coming down from Hollywood to take me to the hospital and I hope we get to leave early, go for a hike and eat a yummy dinner instead. A girl can dream.

What started out as a challenging Monday ended on a positive note with Todd cooking me a healthy, delicious dinner. Even though he is in trouble for not finishing his broccoli.