Holding steady

Paring down my schedule and adding in more daily exercise seems to be doing the trick. I'm feeling more balanced and a little less out of control. I'm so thrilled that I've been able to walk about an hour a day. I've missed it so much. Now that my legs don't feel like I hiked Everest, I feel more free.

Even more exciting is that my arm continues to hold steady at just-about-normal-size. Who knew how thrilling it would be to see my pointy elbow again? I'm continuing to add more activity for my upper body. In fact, at this rate I'll be a veritable Wonder Woman: I've built up to two sets of various exercises with 3-lb weights. Pretty funny. But, it is a start. I'm so grateful that I'm able to do something without the fear of my forearm and hand blowing up like a balloon. Slowly.

McCabe, my artist friend, came over to see if she could spice up my orthopedic beige sleeve. I was considering making it look like I have a full-sleeve tattoo on that arm! It could be fun for yoga! I plan on weaning off of the sleeve as soon as I can but, will wear it to workout for the foreseeable future: better safe than sorry. I would probably explode if I had to endure another 7 1/2 week blow-up again. Also, I know that I pooh-poohed lymphedivas.com in the past but, they have tons of cool styles: diamond trim. I stand corrected.

McCabe is also a scarf expert, yet another area where I am not gifted, and brought me a gorgeous scarf to wear with the hat hair. She tied it too. I'm hoping that I can just slip it on already tied because otherwise I might be in trouble. We are digging deep to find my inner bohemian chic. Very deep. I'm half-french for goodness sakes! You'd think I'd be gifted with scarves. Or chic.

So, week three of radiation is in full swing and it is starting to show. My skin is pink with small red polka-dots. Lovely. I'm slathering on calendula lotion at least four times a day to help counteract the radiation but, methinks the large beam will win. So, although I've got three fabulous new bikinis, I now need to cover up the top and make sure I don't get sun.

I can't believe that it is almost the middle of August. I wonder how I will feel next August when I reflect back upon 2010? At the moment, I don't have a clue. I've survived a lot of loss and ups and downs in my life but, making it through to the other side of this journey will definitely leave me a changed woman. Mind, body, spirit. I am truly grateful for everyone in my life: I'm blessed to have so much support and love surrounding me through this rollercoaster ride.

May I have a redo please?

Today started out fabulously:

7:30am: cuddle session with the cats

8am: gentle yoga practice at home, all with the Michelin Man arm bandaging

10:30am: manicure/pedicure.

That's when it went south.

My Fantasy Day: I would've gone to see Eclipse again by myself. Then, soaked up some sunshine at the pool while reading my new book. Perhaps a walk on the beach.

My Actual Day:

11:30am: Lymphedema therapy, complete with compression pump and bandaging.

1:10pm: Check in at Radiology for the CT Re-scan of the liver. No pressure or stress there. Drank a pitcher of dye slowly for an hour and fifteen minutes, had an IV inserted into my arm and more dye poured in and then stuffed into the Scanner. This is that fun test where they inject the dye through the IV and it makes you feel like you wet your pants. Silver lining: graham crackers and orange juice.

3:35pm: Famished after fasting all morning for that test. Go to Green Hospital cafeteria. Go directly to baked goods bin. Purchase two cookies and a jelly donut. Consume in under two minutes. Not much chewing. Twenty minutes later, for some odd reason, I developed an intense tummy ache. I guess that wasn't the super-antioxidant meal I should've had. Oh well.

4:00pm: Report to Radiation Oncology in basement of Scripps Clinic. Receive my nifty removeable armband that will enable me to park for free for the next 7 1/2 weeks of daily radiation treatment. I love the VIP treatment.

The nurse weighs me and I weigh more than I ever have in my entire LIFE. Seriously. Are you kidding me? Those cookies sure registered quickly. Then, I get the scoop: the doctor isn't going to radiate my lymph nodes because that will make the lymphedema worse. And, he informs me that since the cancer in my one lymph node had only been 4mm, read TINY, that he felt comfortable radiating just my breast. It is hard not to feel saddened to know that tiny 4mm spot was the difference between the axial dissection that caused lymphedema and chemo and having the lesser invasive lumpectomy and radiation. Oh well..

Nobody can explain to me why I have to have radiation after having had chemo. Chemo was supposed to kill every microscopic cell, cancer or not, right? Isn't this a bit much to now radiate my breast 35 times?

So, more indignities followed: they mark up the area where they plan on radiating you. With magic markers and stickers. I felt like a prize cantalope at the county fair. Then, you put your arms overhead and get stuck back into yet another CT Scanner while they photograph the exact location for treatment. They also take photos with a regular camera. What the heck am I going to do when I get famous and those are leaked on the internet?!!

Next, they remove the stickers and permanently tattoo you in three different spots.
Mind you, I was not of the generation who felt compelled to get a tattoo. No desire. Ever. Now, I have a dot right in the middle of my cleavage. Great. Couldn't they do it on the boob where it could be covered up? Really? And, the tech was really sweet and trying to make the spot tiny. This kindness backfired and she had to re-poke me with the needle in two of three spots. It hurt. A lot.

I prefer Scenario #1: my fantasy day. Thank you very much.

I am very excited that tomorrow is Friday, that I have no appointments, that I get to teach my Frogs yoga class, hang out in the sun and then go to Laguna to dinner with my cute boyfriend.

Getting emotional

Love this photo from Palm Springs pre-chemo! Makes me happy looking at it.

This week is going well thus far. I'm very excited to be heading to Napa the day after tomorrow! Nothing like getting out of town for a few days, especially somewhere as beautiful as Napa Valley. We get to stay in the middle of a vineyard! Talk about heaven.

So, for some reason I am crying often these days.

This morning, I cried when I made my appointment with the Radiation Oncologist. Mid-July is full of doctor's appointments again. It may sound strange but, having chemo every three weeks was kind of nice hiatus compared to the testing phase prior to it. At that point, Todd wanted to buy a frequent flier parking pass because we were at Scripps so often. As did all my friends who accompanied me to various probings.

I go in for a CT-Scan of my abdomen on July 15th to see if the liver spot has changed. All this chemo poison should've knocked it out if it were anything other than a cyst or birthmark. I am staying positive on the liver spot! If it is bad news, Todd and I are hitting France and Italy before Australia! Travel time....

The next day, I go in to see my Radiation Oncologist for a tattooing on the spot where they will direct the radiation beam. Every single day, 5 days a week, for seven weeks. Yes, my poor right boob. Darn! I've never wanted a tattoo, never wanted a permanent mark on my body and now I've got no choice. Scars and tattoos are unwelcome, uninvited reminders of the big C.

And, more daily crying for Oreo and his cancer. I can really see him slowing down. The vet did tell me that with his type of cancer, it is usually a matter of months. I hope he holds on! His last steroid shot didn't seem to have the same effect as the first two. At night, he has developed an unfortunate pattern of howling at the top of his lungs, and yes it is a howl not a meow, and jumping up onto the bed. He purrs for 5 minutes, settles in just long enough for me to return to sleep, and then hops off. Repeat. Several times. Not good for Todd and I's REM sleep, let me tell you.

For some reason, he can sleep uninterrupted for several hours during the day. He slept right through the earthquake last night. Hmmmm....funny how that works. Maybe I should wake him up repeatedly all day? That would show him! Seriously though, he looks like a little old man these days. I've had him for nine years so, it is a challenging process to begin letting him go. Hopefully not anytime soon.

Okay, time to go teach yoga. That blessed relief from thinking about me, me, me and giving to others. I don't know if I'd be doing as well as I've been if it weren't for having the gift of teaching.