Keeping it together...

I started reading an interesting book called, Close to the Bone, Life-Threatening Illness as a Soul Journey, by Jean Shinoda Bolen. My sister shared it with me because it helped her cope with her own experience with breast cancer five years ago. Bolen employs several myths to illustrate how cancer affects us. In particular, she discusses the myth of Persephone from Greek mythology:

..a biopsy reveals cancer, through whatever means we learn of a life-threatening illness, the effect is the same: Persephone--the assumption of youth and health, the assumption of safety and immunity from disease and death--has been violated and taken into the underworld......Illness as a descent of the soul into the underworld is a metaphor that brings to the intuitive mind and knowing heart a depth of understanding that cannot be grasped consciously otherwise...p. 15, Close to the Bone.

I've only begun the book but, her premise that the body cannot be separated from the soul resonates deeply.

Today is one of those days where I am doing everything in my power to maintain a positive attitude and still feel off. Why won't my darned brain comply with my wishes? Why are my mind and body not syncing?

I love lists. I love checking things off lists. Here goes: Things I did on Tuesday to feel better:

Taught yoga at Frogs. Check.
Walk at lagoon, listening to Guns n'Roses. Check.
Practiced yoga at home. Check.
Cuddled with the cats. Check.
Touched base with friends. Check.

Why don't I feel better? I feel tired and melancholy. My body does not feel like my own right now. It is bloated and puffy, as if somebody inflated me with a bicycle pump. No fair: if I am bald, I at least get to feel skinny all the time, right?

Onto the positive column: I am picking up one of my oldest and dearest friends from the airport tonight after I teach my 6:30pm yoga class. Kim is coming in from Atlanta to be my sidekick through Round 4. I am really excited to see her and catch up. We've had a wide variety of experiences together, like when we were in Marbella and Paris in 2001 or in Barbados for Law School-summer school in 1991, or tubing down the Chatahoochie River with the Morins in Atlanta in 1997 or was that 1998?

I am so grateful that she is coming out to experience one of the less fun times with me. Just as Megan was a pillar of support for me during Rounds 2 & 3, Kim will be too. And, I'm glad to give Todd and all my "local" friends a little breather in this seemingly never-ending saga. Despite my best efforts, I am dreading this next round of chemotherapy.

Joy, joy, happy, happy. Repeat 100 times....

Getting caught naked in public......

or, my version.

Yesterday we went to Zion National Park and hiked in the striking beauty of the red rock cliffs. The sky was clear and blue, the sun was shining and emerald green trees and water surrounded us. We were in full vacation mode after two fantastic days at Best Friends.

And, then, my worst nightmare since I've been bald occurred.

The disaster occurred as we were descending the trail from the Upper Emerald Pool and moved aside to allow some hikers to pass us. As I stepped out of the way, a tree branch caught on my cute cream hat and yanked it off. Exposing my bald head for all to see. I felt naked. Vulnerable. Hideously ugly. Like the only person in the world with cancer. I cried. And, I couldn't get over it for the rest of the day.

Since I began wearing Sheila and hats with hat hair, my biggest fear has been that someone will pull off my hat, revealing my bald head. For example, when we were at the movies, I was convinced that the person behind me was going to ask me to remove my hat. I didn't wear the hat hair to fly to Utah because I was scared that the security officers would make me take it off for some reason. Fear, fear, fear.

I hate being scared. Nervous. It just isn't my personality.

Perhaps the baldness represents everything that I hate about this journey. Just like my breasts are part of my identity and my femininity, so is my hair.

And, I just don't want people that I don't know to look at me and immediately know my biggest life battle. Can't I have my privacy? That may sound hypocritical since I am blogging for all to see but, it is different for me to sit here in the privacy of my home writing on the computer.

Standing bald on a trail in Zion, with healthy people surrounding me rendered me helpless, isolated, alone. So solitary on my journey. I couldn't shake that feeling.

Whereas at Best Friends I felt "normal" in just the hat, it didn't feel that way at Zion or in the airport or the airplane on the way home. The stewardess was just a little too cheery, the security officer who checked my license was too kindly.

Overall, the weekend was incredible. I cannot stop thinking about all the animals that we encountered. Best Friends will definitely be an annual trip. We loved it. Happy times.

Three days to Round #4.

Milestones and Best Friends

A quick entry from Best Friends in Kanab, Utah. I think this photo says it all. This is Bari, a Catahoula Leopard Dog or a Catahoula Hog Dog. Known to herd cats. Seriously. She and her brother were two of the sweetest puppies I've ever met. Good thing that Todd and I didn't drive here. This time.

Please note that I am not wearing Sheila or any of my hat hair underneath my hat. Just the hat. A milestone for me. Building upon a milestone for me from Thursday morning when I taught my Sculpt Fusion Yoga class bald. No hat. Bald. Bald. Bald. I did wear Sheila on the plane and probably will wear her home too. Easier. Enough about the hair for now.

Nothing could have prepared us for the breadth and beauty of this sanctuary. We had the tour yesterday morning, over 3,800 acres containing cats, dogs, horses, pigs, goats, birds, bunnies....heaven.

We volunteered yesterday afternoon and all day today. We walked lots of dogs, took Sascha for an outing to Angel's Landing, Todd took April for an outing this afternoon while I played in the Casa del Calmar, one of the Cat World buildings. Let's just say we have both been experiencing pure happiness and peace of mind.

So many people here are on return visits. It is just so cool to be around all these animal lovers who come here to spend time with the homeless pets. Todd and I definitely will return as this is the perfect annual trek. I've been doing rescue work for about 15 years now and I've never seen anything like this. Love, love, love it!

This trip has been on the "list" for five years. Check!
Tomorrow we head to Zion before flying back to San Diego. Can't wait!

Down Dog in 6 weeks

May continues to be significantly better than April.

When I first began writing about the silver lining in this journey, I wasn't sure how it would appear. Thus far, it has shown itself primarily through my interactions with others. Some are people that I didn't know very well who have shown me how generous and kind they are. Some are my friends and family who have reminded me why I'm blessed to have them in my life. Some are people that I would never have met but for the breast cancer.

Today I spoke with an amazingly brave young woman, Kristin, who at age 28 learned that she had the breast cancer gene. She discovered this because her cousin was diagnosed at age 39 with Stage IV breast cancer and passed within a year. The standard protocol with the breast cancer gene is to have a prophylactic double mastectomy and also have the ovaries removed. Kristin had the double-M and reconstruction. Oh yeah, she'd just gotten married. 28 years old. 39 years old. How can this be right?

Almost every day someone tells me of a friend or colleague who was just diagnosed. The diagnoses of breast cancer in young women is reaching epic proportions. Why is this happening? In the 1970s the statistic was 1 in 20 women, today it is 1 in 7. And, the ages are just getting younger and younger.

Kristin and I commiserated about how hard it is to be sidelined by all of this. We both are used to being very active and physical. Neither of us will accept that we can't get back to our regular routines. Despite what some well meaning folks in the medical profession advise. For example, I was told by a physical therapist specializing in lymphadema that I shouldn't even try to do a Downward Dog for six months. Ha! It only took six weeks. (this photo was pre-surgery nonetheless)

The cancer can have some of my time. Not all of my time.

And, I'm leaving it behind while Todd and I head to Best Friends in Utah this weekend. Can't wait!

Courage and Fear

May is working for me. Third day in a row that was just excellent. Let's maintain this ascent.

A few recurring themes continue to arise. Fear and courage. Bravery and weakness. My friend Colleen sent me a handmade prayer shawl, filled with pure positive energy. Accompanying the shawl was a copy of a sermon on Fear. It resonated.

Throughout this process, what I hear over and over is people telling me how brave and strong I am.

I don't feel brave. Or particularly strong.

Courage? Half the time I feel like the cowardly Lion shrinking away from what is to come. I almost cannot bear the thought of three more rounds of chemotherapy. Or, shall I say, the cumulative side-effects of three more rounds of chemotherapy. I. Just. Don't. Want. To. Go. Again.

But, seriously, I don't think that I am handling this in any more courageous way than others dealt a similar hand. For example, my sister Yael. She went through breast cancer five years ago and powered through it with the fearless grace she always emanates. She didn't seem to worry about some of the issues tugging at me, like the hair. She just did what she had to do.

When I say I don't understand why people tell me I am brave, I mean it. I don't know how else to handle this? I am just doing what I have to do to get to the other side.

Am I afraid? Fear is an interesting concept. After losing three brothers and one dear friend, perhaps I feel like I've faced death already. I truly don't fear it. In fact, I haven't considered it an option in this ride. I'm too stubborn to not morph into an old bat. I've got plans of careening down the 101 in a big cadillac, you know, the 90 year old raisin who can barely see over the steering wheel? Yelling at all the other drivers to clear the way? Not so different from today.

I'm not afraid to make a fool of myself. I'm not afraid to push boundaries and try something at least once. I've been called reckless and I've been accused of being an idealistic romantic. I've made many mistakes, some of them of gargantuan proportions. Yet, I really don't regret any of the less than stellar judgment calls. Because I was not governed by fear.

What do I fear now? That life will pass me by as I'm in my incubator bottle. That I will miss out on important events in my friends and families' lives because I'm so focused on this battle. That I won't be there for those who need my support.

Fear: it won't rule my life. It cannot. Like Marianne Williamson says, everything in life stems from either love or fear. Everything.

I choose love this time around.

Beat the Second Sunday Curse

The dreaded second Sunday after chemotherapy. The prior two Sundays were woe-filled dark days where nothing could pull me out of my chemo-induced depression. Could the curse be beat?

I am happy to report that the answer is Yes!

I continued to ride the Saturday morning high into the evening. Todd and I had a romantic dinner at Firefly. I tamed Sheila and wore her with authority. (see photo above) It still feels weird to wear a wig and I cannot wait to have my own hair again. Nonetheless, we had a great night and went to bed happy.

I started my morning with one of the best yoga classes I've been to in years. The inspiring Katie Brauer led the practice, accompanied by live music, at Asana Yoga Del Mar. I left feeling zen. And sleepy.

So, I went home to take a little nap with Jake and Oreo and chill out the rest of the day. My energy level is definitely still low. I hope it returns. I can't keep chugging vegetable juice hoping for a Popeye moment! My legs still feel like those of a wobbly baby deer. Tomorrow they will be stronger.

Four sleeps until we leave for Best Friends!

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.