Not to schedule 3 doctor's visits in one day if I can avoid it!  Phew.  I am beat.

However, there is good news (preliminary) on the scan front.  According to a phone call from the tech to the doc, my liver mets (tumors) have continued to shrink.  It wasn't quite as dramatic as last time, but shrinkage is shrinkage.

I had a great session with my therapist today also.  The lovely Anne Arnold.  She really makes me think and inspires me to "high heights" on the ways I'm reshaping my world.  Very fruitful.

And yet, the day yesterday ended with Barium and today started with it...so I am down for the count, my friends.  And on election day in California, too. 

Tomorrow's agenda includes a benefit dinner for Shelter Partnership (driving to LA for that with friends Tom and Renee').  I think I better rest up for the shindig.  See you on the flip side!

Several weeks ago, I got a gift from Tammy Knorr (twin sister of my sister-in-law, Cindy Morefield).  She had emailed me ahead of time to warn me that something odd was coming in the mail for me.  She called it her "dire visualization."

This is a photo of me at today's chemo infusion, holding the visualization tool.  Basically, it's a knitted representation of a tumor.  Inside, small balls of yarn feel like cancer cells.  You can pull on protruding strings, which I do a little each infusion, and reduce the size of the cells.  There are also red "veins" on the outside of the tumor that you can pluck off (mimicking the work of one of my chemo drugs, Avastin, that prevents tumors from growing by denying them the ability to form new blood vessels).

The nurses loved it.  I love it.  I do my regular visualizations and then I remove parts of the knitted tumor.  The red string around my wrist came off today and represents the blood vessels that are coming away from the tumors in my body.

One of the nurses shared with me today that few people actually do visualizations.  I admit that it felt a little hokey to me at first, but I also had a very bottom line thought about making it part of my "living with cancer" aresenal: how can it possibly hurt?  It relaxes me, it forces me to attend and listen to my body, it incorporates a sense of hope and control that feeds my soul.

So thank you, Tammy, for the dire visualization.

Oh, and thank you Pat for the prayer quilt.  I told you I use it at each chemo!

I'd be interested in hearing your thoughts on visualization.

Dan and I went to the Farmer's Market yesterday and among its many delights was a table piled high with the most beautiful and fragrant basil I've had in a long time.  (Caprese salad for lunch anyone?)  We enjoyed fresh vegetables from the market for both lunch and dinner.  Quite delightful.

Today, we rose early and Dan got a little golf in before his morning commute--joining me for the front 9 in the wee hours of the morning.  My normal "Golf on Monday, Chemo on Tuesday" partner, Renee' is in Hawaii at Hale Honu, so it was nice to have Dan along for a change.  The back nine was a lot of fun to play solo.  Lots of decisions to make when you're playing golf alone.  Do you play two balls for the practice? (Yes, I did.)  Do you really have to count all of the sand strokes if no one's around to see how many you took?  (Yes, I did...except for one where I was distracted.)  So I posted a 112...could have posted a 114 more legitimately...not my best round by far...but not my worst by an equal distance.

And I got to enjoy the birds, the scenery, the serenity of playing on my own and the joy of making a par on a tough par 5!

I spent the rest of the day cleaning up my in basket (yaay!) and now am about to join Chad for dinner.  I am both looking forward to my infusion tomorrow and also feeling a bit apprehensive as the neuropathy begins to approach the point where the doc recommends a vacation from that part of the arsenal.  But I've got my Ipod stocked up with new videos and a book I've been listening to on tape.  I've got my stack o magazines to take with and my prayer quilt.  And my angel-friend, Erik, on his way to shepherd me through this round.

Oh, and a lovely Laguna Niguel evening blessing me with a cool breeze.  Nice weekend plus one.  Thanks be.

That's what my day has been today...okay I talked to a lot of my friends and did a bit of laundry, too.  I had my (uneventful) MRI (which we hope will also be "unremarkable" when the doc discusses it on Tuesday).  Picked up a CD of scans in prep for my 2nd opinion with Dr. Josef Lenz next month. 

I did have the pleasant experience of running into my surgeon, Dr. Maeda, who told me I look great and inquired about my golf score.  So I was able to brag that the scores are going down again and was boosted by his positive comments.  He's truly a wonderful surgeon and a great person.

I also enjoyed a bit of chatting up strangers today.  Spoke with the guard by the hospital about the steamy weather.  Encouraged a total stranger who had just opened up Lisey's Story by Stephen King that he'd made a good choice and would enjoy the book.

Now I find I am headed down to the vle (very low energy) phase of being disconnected from chemo.  So a nap is in order and Dan's brought home some yummy things for dinner.  After nap, a poke of Neupogen, dinner and early to bed.  Gotta rest up for the shower on Sunday!

I know I promised something to y'all on the California propositions...and I did intend to do my reading and writing today.  But as with the entire week, things did not turn out as planned!

I took a nice 3.5 mile run/walk with Charlie this morning.  Saw my gorgeous and talented therapist for a tune-up of my thinking.  Came home after errands and ate lunch with Dan.  Then my energy level went swirling downward and since Anne and I had just talked about listening to my body...well, a nap intervened.

I'll be making dinner in a few and then finishing up the laundry...but I promise to take pc and articles with me for our road trip this weekend to visit our friend in prison.

It's odd not to write a blog every day.  I hope folks understand I needed a couple days off to get my mind wrapped around this week's postponed chemo...and I do appreciate you checking in to see what's what.

On the road tomorrow!  Lots of breaks and so looking forward to see our friend.

I only logged 9 holes this morning...which is a good thing for two reasons.  1.  It's already about 90 degrees outside and it was over 80 degrees when I left the course.

2.  I'm headed to the Getty Villa this afternoon (Yaaay!).  I haven't been there in over 20 years and I'm headed there with Steve and Kevin, which should make for a delightful experience.  (Along with dinner later in Santa Monica with Dan joining us.

I am pleased to report that I tied my best score ever on the front 9.  Shot a 46, having been 7 over par through 8 holes.  Unfortunately on the 9th, I ended up in the fescue, then in the sand (plugged just beneath the ginormous lip of the trap) then onto the green in 7 with a 2 putt for a 9.  So 46.  Very fun round with Renee'.

I AM actually doing research on the props for May 15th's election.  So far, I'm leaning "No" on all but the last one,but I need to read the actual propositions now that I've gotten everyone's opinions on them straight.

Sounds like good chemo activity to me!  Let's hear it for Golf on Monday!

Isn't it funny how we keep relearning the same lessons over and over in our lives?  In my case, I have a very strong penchant for seeing life in either/or, all or nothing terms.

This trait has stood me in good stead when I've needed to compete or to excel at some task or objective.  Yet in this brave new world of cancer, I find it serves me less well than what I'm calling "the third way."

As an example, I woke up on Sunday feeling (as I now recognize I do on most post-chemo Sundays) rather grumpy.  What was bothering me, I wondered.  Why was my soul inhabited by a foul, cranky, three-year-old?

I journaled for a bit and it occurred to me that I have been telling myself all through this chemo process that I am allowed Thursday afternoon through Saturday night as my "VLE" days.  By Sunday, I should be back to "normal."

So I asked Dan, and he confirmed, that by and far Sundays were my worst emotional days.  As he put it, "You want it to be done and it's not."  Upon further reflection, I realized that there's also a bit of all or nothing thinking in the mix.  Either I'm 100% on Sunday or the day is a loss.  I have failed.  Hence the three-year old.

What a weight off my shoulders when I realized that this is an artificial, self-made goal.  There is no guidebook for chemo weeks that says, "If you're not feeling 100% on Sunday, you've failed at chemo and you're going to get a "C" in chemo."

So I relaxed, passed an extremely pleasant and low-key day with Dan.  Lesson learned, right?  I can check the box and move on?

Not quite.  I woke up on Monday and really wanted to be done with cancer entirely.  I've learned my lesson.  The tumors can just go away now and I can go back to "real life."

What is real life?  Well, in my mind, I had decided that real life included travel (to Machu Picchu for my 50th), finishing and publishing my novel, playing golf, helping folks out who need a bit of caretaking, enjoying a good chardonnay most evenings.  You know.  Regular life.

And I was pretty cranky about the idea that I don't get to have that now because of cancer.  So my wonderful therapist Anne and I discussed times in life where my expectations have not been met due to shifting realities.  We talked about being able to hold onto dreams without giving them deadlines.  We talked about being able to say "someday" instead of "on this date."

And somewhere during the conversation it clicked that I was learning, AGAIN, the same lesson from Sunday.  It's not either I get my old life back or nothing.  The truth is that I'm on this chemo path for a while.  In the meantime, I'm living my life.  My real life.  Because sometimes life throws you a whammy and bam, you're on a different path than you planned on taking.

And that path...well, the view from here is pretty awesome most days.  And the hike is far more challenging than climbing Machu Picchu will be, I suspect.

So I've decided that this process of growth, where I keep learning the same thing over and over is a type of meditation--where one returns daily to the same topic (say compassion or the third way) and plumbs it again for new insight.

Pretty good work for a nondescript Tuesday, I'd say!

Passed a very pleasant morning getting coffee with Dan at Starbucks, checking out a book by a young woman with cancer (Crazy Sexy Cancer Tips) and mulling over the differences (and similarities) between our approaches to this dis-ease and my desire to put together some sort of book or workshop to help people navigate the early waters of a dire diagnosis.

I like that I am learning to relax into these lower energy days.  That I am no longer beating myself up mentally for not "getting stuff done" but am instead recognizing that I can get different stuff done on these days (including naps and rest periods!) and that's just fine.  Better than fine, even.  It's living my life on my own terms instead of the definitions I have either outgrown or been forced to abandon by the necessities of chemo.

I've got some interesting thoughts mulling too over an article in Newsweek about the "decline of Christianity" and a recent ad by a "traditional" marriage advocacy group about the "gathering storm" of the equal marriage rights movement.  I hope to be able to write about that on Monday and then begin my research into the byzantine California propositions (vote coming up soon) for some recommendations by this humble pundit. 

But for now?  More couch time with a good book.  Looking forward to a brief visit with Mom and her friend, Lilliane (on their way up to see an opera) and watching golf/cross stitching this afternoon while Dan gets out and plays some golf.

Who knows...maybe even a walk since the sun has decided to poke its head out of the clouds!

It's a lovely overcast day here in Southern Orange County...just perfect for VLE days.  Although I must confess that I felt/am feeling far fewer side effects than usual.  My taste buds stayed with me through yesterday (a record) and my neuropathy seems to be less this week than it has been before.

One of the many wonders of a wander through chemo is that you can never tell from one week to the next what your body will be doing.  Sort of like riding Space Mountain in the dark.  Which way are we going now?

Best to relax and let the ride take you.  (And visualize, and feed your soul, and live the moment you're in.)

Today, that's going to look like this for me:

Reading a bit.
Writing a few cards.
Watching the Masters this afternoon.
Napping.
Letting Dan feed me!
Injecting myself with medicine that will encourage my bones to grow blood cells quickly.

Grow scrubbing bubbles!  Thanks for checking in...I'll see if tomorrow holds enough energy for a bit more substantive blog.

 

Played 18 holes of golf at our club this morning with two girlfriends--one of them, Tina, and I have played often together.  April and I played once before, I think.

At any rate, I was telling them at one point about my progress with chemo treatments, the importance of attitude and the critical importance of the cancer patient understanding that she (or he) is the centerpost of her (or his) care.  They were both quite encouraging on the concept of my speaking to various cancer support groups and/or writing a book about this experience.  I've made a small start on the book...and am noodling the ideas surrounding an effective group working session.

The title of the book/workshop/idea is, as you may have guessed, Golf on Monday, Chemo on Tuesday.  It conveys the idea that life doesn't stop with a cancer diagnosis (no matter how severe and scary).  In fact, sometimes a better, more conscious, way of life starts with a cancer diagnosis.

Today on the course, we saw a number of birds...including a momma duck with about 12 little ducklings swimming in tight formation behind her. I posted an 8 on that hole (two water balls) but didn't care a whit.  Those ducklings made that hole for me.

(Note to self and fellow golfers though:  Just because you know how Tiger Woods would do it, doesn't mean you can execute the shot.)

Another thing making my day?  My old college friend, Bob Higgins, is part of a band called Reckless Red.  They do some fun alt-country, alt-rock songs and you can listen and download them for free here.  Check it out.

I infuse tomorrow and then have fanny-pack chemo on board until Thursday.  I'm itching to get going this week.  Feel like the cancer cells have been resting up and I want to hit 'em hard.  Prayers and good wishes appreciated.  See you on the flip side, if not sooner.