TGIF

I'm so glad it is Friday. A long week characterized by wobbly legs is over. In one week from this moment, Todd and I will have completed our first stint volunteering at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary. I can't wait.

We went for a walk at the lagoon and although the pace was painfully slow and I had to sit on a bench for a small rest, it was lovely. I know that each day I'll feel stronger. I'm motivated to feel strong next week to volunteer with the cats and dogs and visit Zion National Park.

My mind has been filled with thoughts on shadow and light. Possibilities and dreams. Pondering and percolating. Incubating. More later. I'm in processing mode.

I need to get a good night's rest before teaching at Lululemon tomorrow morning. Can't wait!

Shifts

Another beautiful day in San Diego. I'm so happy that I was able to get outside and enjoy some of the sunshine.

Today I walked for thirty whole minutes! Thirty minutes may not seem like a lot but, yesterday my legs were wobbly after sixteen. And, this was no power walk. An old lady with a walker, an ancient three-legged dog, and just about everyone else on Paseo del Norte passed me but, hey, I was disguised in my wig, hat and dark glasses.

Lots of shifts occurring this week. Shifts that I didn't envision just a month ago. I realized, through the major fatigue that has walloped me this past week, that I need to conserve my energy to heal. Perhaps this has been obvious to everyone else but, I felt good enough to teach all my classes before. Now, I'm tired. I need more time to rest, reenergize, and recuperate. Yes, I put that in writing: Claire needs to rest more. What the heck will I be writing a month from now?

So, I made a very tough decision to put my on-site yoga classes at Active.com on hold until I'm finished with chemotherapy. I've had to cancel so often, making it too erratic. We will re-launch the yoga program in July. I've also put another class at Sculpt Fusion on hold until the end of treatment because the heat is just overwhelming. I will return!

This week has been marked by discussions with a few clients and new acquaintances who were seeking advice because their doctors' had severely restricted their exercise regimes. I, too, had these issues after cervical disc replacement eighteen months ago and the two breast cancer surgeries in February. I'm still limited from the recent surgeries and chemotherapy. A 16 minute walk and some yoga was all I had yesterday but, it made me feel better. I keep reminding myself that I had fully recuperated from my neck surgery when this cancer thing hit me.

Discussing these type of limitations is sparking an idea for writing an article to help others maintain activity and sanity while they recover from injuries or illness. I'd love to use my teaching and personal experience. I'm going to retreat to my I Dream of Jeannie Bottle-Incubator and let that percolate.

p.s. this is the "Posh" wig that I'm considering for summer....

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.

Up close with the red stuff

Apologies for the graphic view of the "A" drug. But, this is how I experienced it and you know that I love to share. This is the controversial drug where you are given a popsicle so it doesn't dry out your mouth too much. Also, the nurse must stay and administer the drug manually because if it spills it can burn you. Badly. I try not to dwell too closely on that information.

It is now Monday. I started writing this blog entry yesterday? Or, was it the day before? I feel like I've actually lost time. After the first two rounds, I did not sleep like this. I was up and about and one of the weekends even did the Yoga for Cancer Therapy training. Quite a change of pace.

I'm finally deflating. Yesterday morning I bore a striking resemblance to Violet from the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I was more of a pale pink than blue but, my head and neck were swollen up like a big fat berry. Hideous. In fact, my eyes were so swollen that it was uncomfortable to keep them open. As a result, I spent most of the day resting.

Despite my state, I was too stubborn not to drive to La Jolla to meet Todd after his race. Probably not my brightest move as I couldn't see very well. Imagine the large round pink head, carefully camouflaged by sunglasses, hat and hat hair. The pressure from said accoutrements created terrible pressure and it is amazing my head didn't burst. Although I couldn't find parking and didn't get to see him cross the finish line, he finished in the top 7% again! Awesome!

Todd had a lot driving him up and down those steep hills of La Jolla. In addition to his usual motivations, his maternal grandfather passed away on Saturday. His family is gathering in Warren, Pa this week for the service. Todd leaves tomorrow. I wish that I was able to attend.

After a tough weekend, we were grateful to have a wonderful salmon and couscous dinner delivered, courtesy of yet another amazing Frogs yogini. I'm so grateful for the kindness and generosity of those around me. I cannot imagine this journey without it.

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!

Round Three Eve

I don't know why I feel the need to christen everything "Eve" as that generally denotes positive anticipation but, I can't help myself. Chemo Eve. Instead of Santa dropping down the chimney, TAC flowing through the IV. At least this round is the halfway point. Or, maybe the second to the last if you are with me on my Theory of Four. Closer to ending than beginning.

My BFF Megan has returned for a second tour of duty in the chemo lounge. She is a brave soul. She brought me a present. It is a travel pack from L'Occitane for my fall trip to Australia. So, I'll forgive her for giving me shampoo and conditioner today. Ahhh, the irony.

Since my rough ride last week, I committed to rediscover my daily yoga, a.k.a. my sanity, again. Practice has been a challenge because the heat in the studios where I normally practice feels very depleting to my chemo-ridden body. Not a current option. Most of the Frogs classes I enjoy are very intense and also not an option for the next few months. So, I'm now Yogini Explorer. And, am having an amazing week of opening.

I've sampled three new studios and enjoyed them all for different reasons. My mind-body-heart connection, which has been rudely disrupted since January, feels like it is merging back together. I feel lighter and softer. My right side, where I had the two surgeries, continues to open up and heal. Yoga is truly magic.

And, I've had a true "Celestine Prophecy" type of encounter this week. Remember that book? It was based upon the principle that there are no coincidences. In my yogic quest, I met Meredith Hooke, who owns a new studio, Asana Yoga Del Mar.

When our initial discussion began, we discovered that we both had grown up in Virginia. Cool.

Then: we are both from Fairfax. Small World.

Then: we both attended Pine Ridge Elementary School, Luther Jackson Middle School and Oakton High School. Really?!

Then: it got weird. During elementary school, she lived in Strathmeade. Strathmeade is a small neighborhood adjacent to my old one. A mile away. We'd both walk over to Fairfax Hospital to eat the french fries in the cafeteria. OHMYGOD!

Then: La Piece de Resistance: she moved out here because of her best friend. I knew said best friend from Pine Ridge Elementary School. I remember her because she was mean to me, probably because I had big buck teeth and braces when I was 9. But, I also ran into said best friend in San Diego 14 years ago because I replaced her as an associate attorney at the last law firm where I worked. Are you kidding me?

Umm, I think there is a connection. There are no coincidences, right?

This week: exponentially better than last week.

A Very Good Day

Let's hope my hair doesn't grow in looking like this. Scary!

Today was a vast improvement. I felt alive and engaged.

Taught two pilates group reformer classes and whipped my students into shape. It is so fun to create routines each week to challenge their bodies and engage their minds. I know they will all be thinking of me each time they walk up the stairs over the next 48 hours. Hee hee.

Enjoyed a yoga class at a studio where I've never practiced before with my friend Kirsten. It felt good to follow through on my goal to practice daily and reconnect with my body.

Taught my noon yoga class and felt inspired by my students' beautiful energy. Afterwards, I was able to catch up with my friend and fellow teacher Meredith at the always tasty Naked Cafe.

Throughout all of it, I had energy. Positive energy. Fantastic. Savoring it while I can.

Now, it is time to gear up for Round Three on Thursday. Prescriptions to fill, blood to be drawn, appointments to make. Will this be the second to last treatment or the halfway point? Four, four, four.......I can keep trying to manifest four, right?

I have my acupuncture appointments lined up. I'm convinced that the reason I haven't suffered any nausea with my chemotherapy is the skill of the talented Ms. Lois.

I am glad that even conventional Western medicine recognizes the benefits of acupuncture in cancer treatment. I am convinced that I wouldn't be handling the physical aspects of this protocol without all of the complementary therapies I'm doing.

If only acupuncture could help with the baldness.

Sunrise

Hour by hour, day by day, my spirit is lightening. Not fast like a strike of lightening but, a gradual lifting of darkness similar to the sun rising on the horizon with shades of pink and purple streaking the sky. A dawning, if you will.

A walk on the beach, some yoga, a walk at the lagoon, some more yoga, some cuddle time with the cats. Time spent with Todd, time spent with friends both in person and over the phone, emails from friends, a special engraved spoon from Todd's mom. All contributions to lifting me up.

I received an amazing gift yesterday. A former co-worker, with whom I worked once upon a time in a faraway world called a law firm, heard about my cancer. His wife, a truly gifted artist, created the beautiful quilt pictured above for me. Patti even secured a tag on the quilt that says, "A Soft Quilt for a Strong Woman, Claire, we are thinking of you" from she and her husband Phil. The words on different squares are Energy, Humor, Love, Balance, Calm, Breathe, Namasate, Friends, Fearless and Hugs. Honestly, I am so humbled and blessed by the grace of others throughout this ride.

Today, I had a conversation with Kim, one of my closest friends, who has known me for 19 years. When I was lamenting how I felt I was lost and in purgatory, she reminded me that I don't always have to be strong. Actually, her remark was more along the lines that she would be extremely worried that I was delusional if I did not feel depressed, freaked out, and concerned for my future. Thank you Kim, for always telling it like it is.

Part of my plan to remain afloat is to find a new yoga teacher or two that inspires me. I'm practicing at home but, would like to have a guide. I can't practice at Sculpt Fusion Yoga, the studio where I teach most of my classes, for now. The room is heated and it just doesn't feel good on my chemo-filled body right now. I need gentler yoga then what I am used to practicing and I feel like I'm starting over! So, I'll try some new studios closer to my house. I am convinced that my daily yoga practice is the tool to stay connected to my body and keep me present.

Finally, I'm not giving up hope that somehow I'll get away with four rounds instead of six. I'm generally good at manifesting what I want.

Here's a quote from Buddha focusing on the power of Four.

"If you're respectful by habit,
constantly honoring the worthy,
FOUR things increase:
long life, beauty,
happiness, strength. ~Buddha~

Even if I end up with six, I still love this wisdom! Thanks Lizzy for sharing it with me.

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.

Not loving the statistics....

What to write about today? How much I love my hot pink hat from Anita? Or, what has been weighing on my mind this week?

Back when this all began, I struggled a great deal with the idea of doing chemotherapy. In fact, I was convinced I would not do it. Until I was convinced that I should. Now, I'm circling back to my initial feelings that chemo isn't the answer for me.

Is that because of my bald head? the non-stop runny, bloody nose? the afternoon fatigue? the daily battle with not allowing myself to sink into depression? the frustration with feeling like my life is on hold until this treatment ends? that I'm missing out on opportunities left and right?

Initially, both oncologists that I consulted recommended six rouds of chemotherapy, with four being the minimum if I wasn't tolerating it well. Because I caught the cancer early and only had one positive lymph node, I really hoped for four rounds. I am now obsessed with stopping after four. Basically, my oncologist told me that if I can physically tolerate six sessions, I need to do it. Period. That I should fight as hard as possible now.

But, I still just don't buy that chemotherapy is the cure-all. Again, I am feeling like this may be doing more harm than good. That the long term effects on my immune system may not be worth it all. There are NO guarantees that it will work. I guess I believed that after all this, they would give me some tests and scans and pronounce me clear of cancer. A clean bill of health perhaps?

Apparently, I was mistaken. No. My oncologist said that they just assume you are clear based on the statistics. What?

Then, I attempted one of my fruitless bargaining sessions with my oncologist. Good thing I don't practice law anymore because she wins every time.

I just read a new statistic: that the survival rates from cancer have only improved 5% since 1950. Yes, only a 5% improvement in the last 60 years. Contrast that with the cure/survival rates for heart disease improving 68% over the same time frame. And, recall, this treatment protocol I am on will cost $250,000 when all is said and done.

Basically, all the money, all the publicity and research have not improved chances of beating cancer in 60 years. How is that possible? I don't like those odds at all. Chemotherapy is a barbaric, poisonous shot in the dark. I will not receive a clean bill of health after two surgeries, months of chemotherapy and radiation. Just an assumption that it worked based on statistics.

And, I wonder why I feel like I'm going completely insane?

This week is just rough. The sadness I feel about Oreo is weighing heavily on me. I'm trying really hard to focus on enjoying the present moment. The time with him. The positive parts of my day: the love, the friendships, the beautiful, enjoyable moments. We have eaten really well all week, thanks to Randi, Lori, and Christina's generous dinner deliveries. My energy level is just low, however, and it is a challenge. I am trying.

I bought a new book. Time to dive into some fiction and escape for a little while. Usually does the trick. Perhaps my sense of humor will return in the morning. Let's hope so!

Really?

Yesterday was rough. Oreo, my 14 year old cuddly lovebug cat, was diagnosed with cancer too. He has only months to live. All I can say is Really?? I know they often say that pets mirror their guardians but, this is ridiculous.

I'm devastated. I adopted Oreo 9 years ago from the Rescue House as a companion for my kitty Jake. Oreo is the cat that insists on sleeping curled up next to me, either in the crook of my arm or pressed up against me. I've gotten so much love and comfort from him over the years. I'm so grateful for him. I hate seeing him in pain.

He got a prednisone(steroid) shot today and we'll give him one once a month. It helps alleviate symptoms, and will prolong his quality of life. Kind of like I get steroids with each round of chemotherapy to alleviate the side-effects. I'll be spoiling him rotten from here on out. Well, spoil him more. I've always said I'd love to come back as a Petretti cat.

Since my natural defenses are rather low, this is hitting me hard. Last night, I drowned my sorrow in the best vegetarian chili a la Randi, all of the brownies she made for Todd and I, and a big glass of red wine. Bawling the whole time. Chemo diet be damned. Losing an animal is so hard because there are no negative associations. It is pure love and affection.

Besides being focused on Oreo, I got organized with my medical bills and insurance. All I can say is thank goodness that I have kept my extremely expensive Cobra coverage from my former corporate job. A PPO, it covers a lot once my deductible is met. As I just discovered that all of the treatment will end up costing around $250,000, yes, a quarter of a million dollars, I'm glad I had the option for that level of insurance coverage.

A sampling of charges: One Round of chemotherapy: @ $9,000 plus
Neulasta shot day after chemo: $6,500
TOTAL: $15,000!!!

Most women endure 4 to 8 rounds of chemotherapy. Plus surgery. Plus tests. Plus appointments, etc. We're talking roughly a quarter million dollars when all is said and done. How do people cope without insurance? Or, crappy insurance that only pays a small portion? It is outrageous. Like we need additional stress. I'll bite back my health care tirade.

Finding the silver lining these last few days has been challenging. I did enjoy lunch with Lissa, who was the beneficiary of a big, fat emotional dump. Thanks Lissa: it means the world to have that kind of support. Friends and family are the light. Teaching was great tonight and another light in my life.

Back to the bottle.

Genie in a bottle

These three photos show off the three hats that Shelley and Taylor made for me. I love them.

As I suspected, today was significantly better than yesterday. I'm just going to have to ride these waves. My lovely friend Kirsten left me a message that she visualized my cave as a beautiful place, with a Moroccan flair and satin pillows.

I'll take the cave visual a step farther: the I Dream of Jeannie bottle. As a child, I was obsessed with I Dream of Jeannie. Not only did I dress up as Jeannie for Halloween on more than one occasion, I also had a friend who had two genie costumes and we'd play dress up. More than having Jeannie's ability to blink and make wishes come true, more than rocking the pink outfit, I dreamed of running away into her magical, beautiful bottle. Voila. So, code word for going to the cave=I Dream of Jeannie.

Todd's been generously offering to get me a new pair of running/walking/hiking shoes for a long time. I have a big dorky white pair that I got on sale at Marshalls about two years ago. Not exactly top of the line in either function or fashion. Maybe Todd's embarrassed to hike with me and my giant white clodhoppers. Or, he's just nice.

In preparation to leave the house for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I sported the wig. There is just something about the full wig, as opposed to the hat hair, that feels really weird and unnatural. Off to Road Runner Sports we went. Along with half of San Diego County. If the sun fails to shine, San Diegans shop.

I found a very cool pair of Wave Rider Mizunos. Now I can cruise with the cool kids.

Next, we hit Home Depot. Now, I did promise Todd's mom that I wouldn't allow him to make me go to Home Depot. Ever. But, it was my idea. We'd decided to spruce up our porch. We've got a great view, really cute patio chairs but, we'd killed off all the plants last summer.

We transformed the porch with a big Ginger Shell plant for the corner, two purple flowering hanging plants, a tiny budding violet for a Santorini blue and white vase and finally, some bright yellow flowers. Notice I don't list the names. Despite being clueless on botany, I do have eyes and everything is gorgeous. Now, the porch is alive with life and color.

I did have to rip off the wig after this three and one-half hour endeavor. My scalp is still tender and itchy on top. I definitely prefer the hats and hat hair.

After an inaugural walk in the new shoes, we did some yoga together in the living room. Todd made us a tasty dinner of Yellowfin tuna and asparagus. I'm feeling full and happy. Good company, exercise and shopping made it a much better day.

Each time I teach yoga, I remind my students to stay in the present moment, to live in the now, to allow each experience to unfold naturally. I think I need to tell myself that each and every day when I wake up. I accept the days like yesterday and Friday and welcome the days like today.

Or, maybe I can blink my eyes and make a wish, just like Jeannie.

Peeping out of the cave

I'm sticking my nose out of my cave but, not yet ready to exit.

The same black mood that hit me three weeks ago struck again. Not just dark but, super emotional. I think I cried 10 times yesterday. I know that at this point after the chemotherapy, my blood cell counts are very low. Perhaps there is a correlation to my psychological state? All I know is that although my physical body is okay, mentally I am out of sync.

It all started 5 minutes before I was about to teach my Fabulous Frogs Friday yoga class. Fabulous because there is magic in that room! I can't pinpoint what it is but, it is a blessed escape for me and from students feedback, they feel it too.

I digress. Imagine that. Back to my saga.

I ran into an old friend and co-worker that I've known for thirteen years and haven't seen in two. We had been close and he was always a shoulder to lean on for me when I was facing challenges. A decade ago, those usually were misery at the job or turmoil from a melodramatic relationship. Mark would just patiently listen. I know he thought I was a train wreck and by all accounts, on any given day, I was. Naturally, I haven't seen him now that I am with the man of my dreams and love my work. Murphy's Law.

Seeing him triggered me for some reason and I burst into tears. At the gym. Right before class. He was in the midst of telling me I looked great and I sobbed out a "I have cancer and this isn't my hair" or some reasonable facsimile thereof. Of course, I couldn't have just said hi, let's catch up on the phone later as I'm going in to teach now. That would be too easy.

I was emotional at the beginning of class but, the yoga flowed in and my worries floated away. I had a surprise drop-in from the Lululemon West Coast Community Relations gal Jessica, who was out visiting Ambassadors. She gave me a new mat to product test. It is called The Mat or Le Tapis and it is big, it is hot pink and it is fabulous. I tried it out in my living room today and will bring it along with me to teach and practice. Love it!

Once I left Frogs, I went home feeling dark. If I were a big drinker, I'd have had a healthy dose of whiskey or a bucket of wine. Instead, Todd and I went for a walk at the lagoon. It helped to be outside in nature and beauty. Nonetheless, I was still snarky and unhappy when we got home as I had to take Oreo to the vet. My poor little guy hadn't been eating and was lethargic.

Oreo's health hasn't been quite right for the last year and 5 visits and $2500 later, chaching, we still don't have a diagnosis. More blood work and tests. Over the last year, he's lost 2 pounds. That may not sound like a lot but, it would be like you or me losing 50. His nickname used to be Fatty McPatty and now he looks like a bag of bones. Anyway, this, too, upset me greatly. Oreo got some IV fluids and seems a little perkier. The pathologist should have the results of the blood work on Monday.

Let's see, what else got me? It all started with a beautiful hat. The wonderful Shelley and her daughter Taylor (tete-a-tete-hats.blogspot.com) knit me several new hats. Taylor makes hats for people going through chemotherapy. I love them. With my hat hair and cute hat, I feel like a blond Ali McGraw from Love Story. Oops. Didn't Ali McGraw die in that movie?

All day I was thinking of my mortality. For the majority of this journey, I've been staying positive. Silver lining, right? I keep believing that this is another challenge for me to overcome, another life lesson (not needed thank you very much), a process with an end in sight. June 24th: chemotherapy done. August: radiation complete.

But, what if that spot on my liver is the spread of cancer? What if chemotherapy and radiation and all the holistic remedies I'm using just don't work and my ticket is up? What if I die? It is possible. I can't completely shy away from that line of thinking and deny that not everybody survives this disease.

To sink a little lower into the abyss, I watched the DVD of Sex and the City when Samantha had breast cancer. I'd never seen it and a few people had mentioned it to me. It might not have been the best day for me to do so. Samantha losing her hair, getting chemo, trying on terrible wigs, saying she didn't want to look sick, that she didn't want people to look at her and not see strength....been there, felt that. I'm sure most women in my situation have. By 10pm, I knew I was staying close to home all weekend. No need to spread this mood around town.

This morning, I went to the cat house. After securing the hat hair and putting on makeup, of course. When I got home, I knew I was in for the duration. Luckily, I'm in the middle of a new book and have lots of workout DVDs and a new yoga mat. In the house, I am the bald cancer girl and don't have to worry about trying to appear like nothing is wrong with me.

A nice long workout and yoga session helped me relax and I feel a little closer to my sunny side. By tomorrow afternoon or Monday, I may be ready to face the world again. I will climb a little higher up this rollercoaster. Until then, I'm hiding out.

So many great things happened today. Hmmmm, I'm a lucky girl.

I just finished sharing dinner with my hot boyfriend. Neither of us could resist stuffing ourselves. Lori, the dinner fairy, cooked for us tonight and wow! This may have been the yummiest lasagna ever. As I sit here beached on the couch, I'm excited for another serving tomorrow. Oink.

Earlier today, my honorary little sister Melissa came to visit me. Melissa manages the Corepower in PB and I haven't seen her since I put my classes on hold during treatment. We habitually had lunch after class almost every week so, we had three months to catch up on in one afternoon. Let's just say that neither of our jaws stopped moving for three hours. And, we didn't even get to discussing boys. It was fabulous! Sometimes you don't realize how much you miss someone until you see them again.

I taught my Sculpt Fusion and Active.com classes today. As usual, teaching made me happy. I love that I can teach, even on a limited schedule. After class, someone I'd never met before approached me and told me that they were following my blog and complimented me on it. How cool! This blog is incredibly therapeutic for me to write and it is gratifying to know that people care to read it.

Okay, I said I'd stop talking about the hair but, I cannot resist. Although I am almost totally bald, for some unknown reason stubble remains, the opposite of male pattern baldness. It crouches atop my head like a dark, ugly crown. I can lightly tug it and it comes out in my hand. It is all over my pillow and inside my hats. But, this nasty shadow won't exit stage left. The blonde is gone, the light brown is gone, the silver is gone but, this won't fall out. If I have to be bald, I want a Kojak smooth head.

On that note, upstairs to see if Todd can buzz the remaining offenders away.

Just a quickie...

Today started off fabulously and ended not so fabulously. Is that a word?

Teaching this morning was fun and afterwards, I completed a great workout on the reformer at the Pilates studio. I've missed it. My legs feel shaky right now.

It was a breathtakingly beautiful, sunny day in San Diego. I braved the pool for the first time. There was no way I was sporting faux hair so, I wore my big straw hat and pulled the brim down low and skulked to the far corner of the pool. Prayed that nobody would sit near me. A little reading and a little sunshine equals an hour of serenity for me.

Unfortunately, my day plummeted from there. My energy faded and my stomach started to ache. I don't feel like complaining so, I will keep it brief. By the time I finished teaching my 6pm class, I was in tears. The wig pinched my head and gave me a splitting headache but, I didn't crack until it was over. Thank goodness for my supportive students. I love them! But, sometimes this is all just too much to bear.

BIG silver linings of my day: first, we put in an ongoing search for the timeshare in AUSTRALIA in September/October. Todd and I are finally going to Australia together and I cannot wait. Treatment will be complete, cancer will be gone, hair will be growing, life will be good.

A more immediate thing to look forward to: Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Utah, May 6th through the 8th. Todd and I will stay in town, get a full tour of the sanctuary, and best of all, volunteer with the animals for a few days!! I cannot wait. Talk about miraculous therapy for the soul. Maybe I'll be cured after this trip and won't need any more chemo! I've dreamed of visiting and volunteering at Best Friends for years. I cannot wait.

I learned about Best Friends back when I was Managing Director of Animal Avengers in Los Angeles. Best Friends is an animal sanctuary that shelters everything from horses and bunnies to donkeys to cats and dogs. When Michael Vick's diabolical dog fighting ring was discovered, Best Friends took 22 of the dogs: poor, exploited, innocent animals that had nowhere else to go. Best Friends provides a haven for abused, neglected and abandoned animals and also fights to protect animals nationwide. If you have never seen their site: www.bestfriends.org.

I feel better already.

No more Barbie

No panicked calls to the chemo nurses. No incapacitating pain. I can't believe that I feel so much better this round than last round. It is amazing.

Yoga tonight! Not wanting to think or teach, I just popped in the DVD and flowed with Rodney Yee for an hour. Part of the problem with this whole process, from surgery to testing to chemotherapy, is that I feel extremely disconnected with my body. My body has not felt like my own for three months now. Practicing yoga, no matter how gentle, reconnects my mind to my heart to my body.

I'm glad that I took yesterday and today to recuperate and rest. Although I felt stronger today, I think it is better not to push it. Like I usually do. I'm still laughing at myself a bit for completing a full weekend teacher training the day after chemo.....Rest is good. Rest is good. Rest is good.

I went to see Angel Patti today and swapped my Barbie wig for one that is more of a streaky, honey blonde. It feels so much better. Patti also thinned it out so I didn't feel too fluffy. When you've gone as long as I have with fine, thin hair (the Spiral Perm Years excepted), you cannot handle too much volume on top. I will try it out tomorrow morning.

I have spent more time on hair and makeup since I went bald than I have in a year. Even just putting on the cap and hat hair is time consuming. I'll never take my flat little ponytail for granted again!

Today, I dropped Megan off at the airport. Todd is traveling for work. It is just me and the cats for 24 hours. The quiet feels good.

And, I've discovered another guilty pleasure: Midnight Sun. It is Twilight written from Edward's point of view. Everything makes so much sense from his point of view!!It wasn't published because someone leaked it before Stephenie Meyer was finished with it but, the draft is online. I'm trying to pace myself because it isn't very long. I made myelf practice yoga, eat dinner, and blog before I can go back to it.

I'm so grateful that I have the attention span to read again.

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.

Light at the end of the tunnel

What a great day at Yoga for Cancer Therapy teacher training! I cannot believe that the course is finished tomorrow and soon I'll be able to share what I've learned with others. It was incredibly nurturing to be surrounded by other yoga teachers, offering beautiful restorative yoga. Everyone in the class has such unique gifts and I feel like I absorbed some lasting lessons.

I did end up napping through the first hour after lunch but, the other students were kind enough to set me up on bolsters and let me snore through. Namaste.

I felt better prepared for this round and am optimistic that I won't have such severe side effects Day 4 through 6 like last time. I'm on the Claritin regime. I've got my best friend pampering me, cooking for us, generally being the Saint Megan that my father has raved about for almost, gulp, 30 years. Wow, 30 years. I'd say that is an enduring friendship. Granted, we met as toddlers. OHS class of....shhhh.

The steroids are wearing off and the headache behind my eyes is surfacing. I did attend training from 7-10 pm last night and 10-4 today, which is intense without chemo involved. I do feel relief knowing that I've taken Monday and Tuesday off and there is no pressure to do anything but recuperate.

Let's see: more good news. Patti called me and my "permanent" wig is in. The wig I've sported this past week is very blonde. Can you say Pilates Barbie? The color that we've been waiting on, Pralines n'Cream, should arrive Monday and I should have it by Tuesday. It is much closer to the color that I lost last week and I will feel less conspicuous. To be honest, I love, love, love my hat hair. I feel like a cute, spunky little surfer girl. Now that I'm tucked in for the night, I'm sporting the bald head despite looking like an alien. A coin-worthy alien, that is.

Okay, the headache is kicking in. I've taken tylenol every 6 hours but, I think it is time to keep ahead of the pain. Enter percocet. I guess this entry will end soon...I will NOT experience the bone pain of last round again.

Emotionally, this is rough. I'm so blessed to have the support of my man, my friends, my family and my extended community.

But, last night was tough. I guess it is natural to cry myself to sleep and wake up crying. It has to be healthier to release the sadness and the pain instead of trying to bottle it up. The grace and radiance I am experiencing will outweigh the negatives. I know it. Back to my same theme of walking through the darkness and not pretending it isn't what it is.

The light is at the end of the tunnel. Everyone's love and prayers are driving me toward it.

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!