New Life - Saturday, December 26, 2009

I am finally seeing some signs of regeneration. While in Rome, the rest of my eyelashes fell out, except for three on my right eyelid. It was really disheartening because it now necessitates the use of eyeliner above my eyes, something I never had to do before. I finally understand why the oncologist said he could not guarantee my eyelashes would remain intact, even if I still had them after four chemo treatments. On the bright side, however, new eyelashes have formed and are now about half grown. My hair, the new growth, is at this point about a half inch long all over my head. I was hoping to wear it "spiked" for Christmas, somewhat like a punk rocker, but it is still too short. So I guess I will have to wait, at least another month or two before I stop using "Abby", the wig. I told my chiropractor I was planning to ditch her in the river. Seriously though, I actually plan to donate her to the Bryn Mawr Hospital free wig program. Although, I wonder if Mark Stayton, the Sales Manager, might be interested in using her for awhile. She could keep his head warm during this cold weather. :) :) :) :) :)

Christmas Day - Friday, December 25, 2009

A Merry Christmas to all of you who have been reading this blog. May you have a blessed and joy-filled day. Thank you so much for your support. I truly appreciate it. Yesterday, I finished my sixth radiation treatment. Six down and only twenty-seven left to go. Do I sound eager to be finished??

A Visit With The Radiologist - Thursday, December 24, 2009

Today, I saw the radiologist for the first time during treatment. I had given him my list of supplements to take during radiation as per his request. Thankfully, the only concern he had was over the 2000 mg. of Vitamin C and 800 I.U. of Vitamin E I am taking during the treatments. He reiterated that there is no proof that these supplements, being antioxidants, will hinder the effects of radiation. However, he still felt it necessary to mention to me that the possibility does exist. Then he said he would leave the decision in my hands. I promised I would talk it over with the naturopath, which I hope to do this week. I also need current bloodwork to determine if my digestive system is repaired to the point of absorbing B vitamins again. One more thing to think about in a list of many.

First Day - Thursday, December 17, 2009

The first day of radiation was now feeling like a real trial to me because of my experiences the previous two days. I really had not expected it to be such a problem. So, I asked my sister to pray for me in the morning, then also called my former pastor for prayer. (He is one of the three people in my life who I can call that early.) I tried to pace myself while preparing for the appointment so that I could figure out the new schedule radiation will require. Well, I managed to make it, and on time. The whole process takes twenty minutes, at most, from the time I arrive at the hospital until the moment I get back in my car. As I was leaving the room where radiation is given, I asked the supervisor about the tattoos. He said that whenever I was ready I should inform him and then he would apply them. At that point, I thought perhaps I would be ready after about six and a half weeks. :):):) I would really like to avoid the process altogether and just keep applying the temporary markers until radiation is finished. Anyway, one treatment down, only thirty-two to go.

Mini Meltdown - Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Facing this process of radiation has been making me feel as though I have been emotionally catapulted back to July when I was deciding whether or not to do chemo. Today, as I entered the room to be set-up for radiation, the supervisor told me he was going to insist that I allow them to put the permanent marks on my chest as a guide for the machine. I was already feeling unnerved by the whole process, so his statement did not help at all. As I lay on the table with the two technicians and the supervisor pouring over my skin drawing dots and dashes with different colors, and measuring me, the feelings of being pushed to the wall intensified. I was caught between allowing them to have their way and saying, "People, this is my body and I do not want any more permanent marks on my flesh. Thank you very much." Finally, I was weary enough to acquiesce, when they started brushing green toxic paint on my skin. They told me to think about it overnight and let them know my decision the next day. It was then that I lost my composure in front of them and started crying. After apologizing profusely, I explained that it was my birthday and this simply was not the way I wanted to spend it. Then I left and continued crying all the way to work. When I entered the backroom of the store, I could not talk to anyone, but walked straight to my office and fell apart again. Marilyn, ever the mother hen at Martindale’s, marched into my office and asked me how I was. So, I fell apart once more and explained what happened. I was also embarrassed over having cried in front of perfect strangers. Interestingly enough, she seemed to think that the technicians see that sort of emotion displayed often and that, if I did not want permanent marks, I should remain firm in my decision. I still felt badly, but managed to rally emotionally and have a fairly happy birthday after all.

Foul Up - Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Well, I blew it today. I thought the "dry run" time for the radiation equipment was 9:30 a.m. on Tuesday, so I acted accordingly. However, when I arrived at Bryn Mawr, the supervisor told me my appointment was actually 8:45 a.m. Sure enough, when I checked my appointment book, he was correct. That really upset me because I am so diligent about appointments and especially since it was only the second time I met with these people. I did not want to be a problem from the start. Because the scheduling for radiation is so tight, he could not re-arrange his day in order to fit me in. So...the set-up time was re-scheduled for December 16th, which means I will not start radiation until December 17th. I really felt like a dope, but there was nothing I could do to change it and it certainly was not done purposefully. Still, I left there crying and feeling horrible about the whole incident. I called my sister as well as my best friend who prayed with me, but I still felt terrible. I thought it was because I had messed up the doctor and supervisor’s schedules, but my friend was insistent that I was upset because of having to do radiation itself. I do not know if that was the real reason why, all I know is that I was upset. I was also feeling like a bother for having to call anyone for emotional support and for crying over something so trivial. This whole process, the diagnosis, the operation, the chemo, radiation, etc., makes you feel so vulnerable and dependant upon others beyond what is normal. Sometimes, you just want to stop needing the people in your life so much even though they tell you how much they want to help you. You want life to return to what it was before the trauma so that you can be the person giving help rather than needing it.

Roma Chronicles - Monday, December 14, 2009

You may wonder why I have not posted much in a week. It took me awhile to adjust to the change in time zones the second time around plus the return to work. (Italy is six hours ahead of us and it took me a week to adjust to the time change the first time.) Meanwhile, I contracted a cold which I blame on my brother who came down with one while we were abroad. I really wonder if the fact that he lived on pizza, pasta, and gelato the entire time we were vacationing had anything to do with it, although I did see him consume one or two salads. But, I digress. I really want to blame this cold on him because I followed my diet the entire time I was abroad and besides, I do not think he would mind. Anyway, the cold turned into a fever of 101 yesterday afternoon and 101.2 last night. So, my plans to decorate the apartment for the holidays, including lights on the balcony, and make meatballs for our upcoming staff Christmas party, etc., were completely destroyed. Instead, I lay on the couch like a sack of potatoes and watched two Christmas movies. It was not exactly what I had in mind.

Since I have to wait until 24 hours after the fever breaks to return to work again, I now have time to blog about the trip. (And yes, I have been resting as well.) I think what I would like to do is give a somewhat day by day account by posting the e-mails I sent to the staff and friends while in Rome. I did this not just to make them jealous, but also so I would remember what we did. It can all become a mental blur so quickly.

So, here they are, minus any superfluous information:

November 26, 2009

Dear Marilyn and all the gang at Martindale's:

I am so tired right now that I can hardly type. It was a full day thanks to my brother's determined mindset! I think he comes by it honestly. Perhaps, it is his Petrillo nature coming to the surface. Well, we toured the Colosseum yesterday. What a magnificent sight! It is too much to write about, especially at this moment. Today, we toured the Palantine Hill (home of several Roman emperors, including Augustus), the Forum (center of Roman commerce and government), and the Capitoline Museum until we (Fran, Lissa and I) just about dropped. We did not finish the museum because we were all too tired and all the history and beauty of it all was beginning to melt into one big blob of culture! (How do I spell tired?) AAAGGGHHHH!!!! Anyway, it was really all so beautiful and mind-boggling how the ancient Romans built so many amazing buildings. Then, to view the Renaissance works of art on top of that was beyond words to describe.

Tomorrow, we will visit the Vatican, where I am sure the Pope (Il Papa) and I will be able to have a wonderful chat together over a cup of tea. Can you imagine? Maybe, I could use my one year of high school German on him. Oh well, we will see what happens. By the way, my brother tried to send some pictures to the family, but the computer could not handle it. I think his memory card was too large. I guess the pictures will have to wait until I return.Hope you are all doing well and behaving now that Mark is in charge. If not, do not bother to tell me. At this point, I do not care at all. Maybe, it is the Italian atmosphere or the fact that I am so tired that I know I am rambling. Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving! Have a blessed week as well. I will try to write again soon.

Love,
Joan

November 27, 2009

Hi Joan!

Wow!!! Sounds like you really had a full day! Don't push too hard. (Yeah, it's the Mom thing kicking in again.) So what do the Italians eat on Thanksgiving? Oh...wait...no Indians there!

lol. I'll pass your email on to the others. Keep me posted. (I'm living vicariously through you.)

Have fun!!

Marilyn

Dear Marilyn,

I ate manicotti with spinach and cheese because I could not find a turkey in all of Rome.

Joan

November 28, 2009

Dear Marilyn and All the Gang at Martindale's:

Yesterday, we went to the Vatican and toured St. Peter's Basilica, which seats 60,000 people. Every single inch of that building is indescribably and breathtakingly beautiful!! I was completely mesmerized for four hours straight. I also climbed the 320 steps to the top of the dome of the basilica and was able to take a number of pictures of Rome and the Vatican (city). It was amazing! The stairs are inside the dome, and wind up a circular, narrow staircase to the top. I really made it!!! Not bad for someone who finished chemo 23 days ago, huh! Then, we went to lunch at a nice, little restaurant just outside the walls of the city (Vatican). Later, we went back and saw the tombs of the popes. I thought I would take pictures of Paul VI, John Paul I and John Paul II, because they were popes in my lifetime. I took the first two, then saw a guard tell someone else not to take pictures. Oh well, I did not know I was breaking Vatican law.

Today, we went to the Piazza Navona and saw the fountain of Trevi, Rome's most famous fountain. It is absolutely beautiful!!. We have also seen the monument to Vittorio Emmanuele, Italy's first king, affectionately called the 'wedding cake' because it is so elaborate. There is so much history and beauty to take in, but, I must confess, although the food is good, I actually think I can match the taste. (That will be my one obnoxious opinion for this e-mail.)

We expect to return to the Vatican on Monday in order to see the Sistine Chapel, painted by Michaelangelo in the 1500's. I will write again as soon as I can, providing I can access the computer.Goodbye for now. I hope you are all behaving as I really do not want to know anything that happened when I return. :) :) :)

Love,
Joan

November 29, 2009

Dear All,

Just an update for you. Hope you are all well. Saturday, we saw the fountain of Trevi. I walked up the Spanish steps (a mere 80 of them) and saw another church I forget the name of at this point. Saturday evening, we saw La Traviata in All Saints' Anglican church in the Piazza di Spagna. I did not understand a word, but read the story in english so I knew the plot.

Sunday, we strolled the Piazza di Spagna, Piazza del Rotundo and the Piazza Navona all day, including the Pantheon. (Rome is built in sections of streets which look like triangles when viewed from above and are called piazzas.) We had lunch across the piazza from the Pantheon and then saw the church of Saint Ignacius de Loyola. We shopped in many little stores and then saw the church of Saint Marcello. Today, we saw the Sistine Chapel and some of the Vatican museums. I cannot describe it adequately in an e-mail, so I will wait until I get home.

Write to you soon! Arrivederci!

Love,
Joan

December 1, 2009

Ciao, Marilyn,

Buon Giorno e come va? That's about all I know (in Italian) at this point. To continue my saga of Joanie goes to Roma: Today, we went to the National Museum of Rome. I saw so many statues, frescoes, and mosaics, including one excavated from the house of Livia, wife of the Emperor Augustus. But the big deal happened this morning when Fran and I had to do our laundry in an Italian laundromat a few blocks from the hotel. Fran kept calling it another one of my "hair brained ideas" as we dragged our suitcases full of dirty laundry through the streets of Rome following Roberto, the consierge at our hotel. I felt like I was stuck in an "I Love Lucy" script called "Lucy does her laundry in a foreign land." All I can say is "thank God!" for high school Spanish. It has really come in handy! Well, we managed to get the laundry done for a mere $28. (The hotel would have charged $150 according Roberto.) He escorted us there because he did not want us to get lost and call the police - more about that when I get home. Fran decided doing the laundry was a decent idea afterwards. Tomorrow, we will spend the day in Florence where we will see Michaelangelo's statue of David, among other things. I will write again as soon as I can.
Love to all,
Joan

December 3, 2009

Dear Rose,

Yesterday, we went to Florence. I climbed the 463 steps to the top of il Duomo (the cathedral). Then we took some pictures. We also saw Michaelangelo's David, as well as some unfinished works of his. They were amazing, especially David, although his face looks kind of angry. We then saw the graves of Dante, Michaelangelo, Macchiavelli, and Galileo in the church of Santa Croce. We also shopped in a number of neat little stores and had lunch at a nice restaurant across from il Duomo.

Today, we had a more leisurely day. We went to Piazza di Spagna again, then over to Piazza Navona where we had a nice lunch. I tasted that famous tartufo ice cream, indigenous to Rome. It was excellent. Then, by accident, we wound up in Campo di Fiori, got kind of lost, and walked back to the Colesseum to catch the Metro home. I believe we walked the circumference of the city and my "dogs" are killing me. Oh, by the way, I bought a really nice pair of heels, made in Italy, of course, for £25. (about $37.50)

Well, I will sign off for now. Hope you are well and had a nice Thanksgiving.

Love,
Joan

December 4, 2009

Dear Marilyn,

Well, today, after I dropped the pepper at breakfast and spilled my tea, we were off to St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican again. All of us thought it would be good to take another look at the art because the first time we were too busy taking pictures. We waited about a half hour in line to clear security, then thought we would be smart and go to the bathroom first. The problem was that the three of us did not realize that we had passed the exit out of the Vatican when we entered that particular bathroom. So, upon exiting the ladies' room, the Vatican policeman informed us that we had to get back in line in order to clear security because we had passed the exit sign. We tried to explain we did not know we had exited, but to no avail. By that time, the line for security had increased to about, no exaggeration, one thousand people, stretching halfway around St. Peter's Square. Soon, Steve came and tried to talk to the policeman who would not change his mind. Fran and I started praying about it. After a few minutes, the guard walked over to us, told us not to say anything, but let us back in. Thank God! By that time, it was raining. We also saw a papal exhibit this time, then went to lunch. We were going to go to Castel D'Sant Angelo, the papal bunker used during political uprisings, but it started raining hard so we walked back to the Metro instead. Unfortunately, there were delays on the "B" line so the "A" line was mobbed, literally. We waited for about five trains to pass in order to board. We were packed in like sardines for six stops and yet people kept trying to board at each stop. One guy's backpack got caught in the doors, but he still would not get off the train. I was really glad to get off.

Well, I had better sign off for now. I hope to go to Naples tomorrow. We will see whether or not that happens.

Arrivederci for now,
Joan

N.B. We never went to Naples because of poor planning on our part as well as a couple of unusual circumstances. Instead, we planned to visit the famous Borghese Galleria on the outskirts of Rome on Saturday, December 5th. However, due to poor planning again, we were unable to secure tickets.

December 6, 2009

Dear Marilyn,

Well, it is my last night in Rome. AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am used to being here and going sight-seeing instead of working. What will I do! Maybe I could retire early....Instead, I guess I will come home and go back to work. Ugh! Yesterday, we never made it to the Borghese Gallery because you have to make a reservation in advance and they were booked until Tuesday. So, we walked the park for what seemed like miles, then rented a four-man bicycle. (They actually make them in Italy.) We peddled around the park for an hour. It was a really nice experience. Afterward, we went back to the Spanish steps and the Piazza di Spagna and ate lunch and shopped some more.

Today, we went to the Grace Kelly exhibit, authorized by the Grimaldi family, in the Piazza di Spagna area. It was really interesting. Piazza di Spagna was mobbed with Christmas shoppers the same as yesterday. So, we took the Metro to the Lateran district. It was at this point that Fran got caught on the train and the doors closed and we had to take the next one and find her. Thank God, she knew where to go. Anyway, we had a great lunch and then visited San Giovanni of the Lateran. It is a beautiful, huge church building where the popes were crowned until the 1870's. There is no way to describe the beauty of the artwork in these churches. You just have to stand and stare and try to soak it all in and hope you remember it. Then, we came home, packed, and had our last dinner here. :( :( :( :( :( :( :(

Arrivederci and love and kisses,
Joan

N.B. I also wanted to report that, for the first time in my life, I ate chestnuts roasted on an open fire. At every corner in Rome, during the fall season, vendors roast and sell chestnuts on charcoal fires. They sell them in paper cones for a few euros, so I finally tried a batch. It seemed a bit unusual to eat something in Rome that I have always heard sung about in an American Christmas carol. Anyway, it was an interesting culinary experience, but I think I will stick with my favorites - almonds, cashews, and walnuts.

By the way, in response to my communications, the gang at Martindale's sent me an e-mail entitled, "Everything is under control." In it I was reassured that everyone was busy doing their jobs to the best of their abilities while I was away. To prove it, they sent pictures of Mike looking inebriated with a bottle of Martinelli's poised at his lips. In addition, there were pictures of some staff members and Steve, one of the owners, smoking fake cigarettes. Mark, the Sales Manager, was tied up with rope and gagged. (They promised me they were giving him bathroom and lunch breaks.) The last one was a picture of my office being used as a storage closet. I laughed to the point of tears, then answered them with an e-mail stating they were all in trouble as soon as I returned home. To be honest though, I was wondering how much work was getting done while they were constructing this letter.

So this was truly the trip of a lifetime, at least, until I have another one just like it. It was quite an experience, and one that I will never forget. It was also a wonderful mental, emotional, and physical diversion from the cancer protocols I am encountering.

CT Scan - Thursday, December 10, 2009

Today, I had the CT scan in order to set up the radiation protocol. I must admit I was somewhat unnerved by it. Whenever I think I am used to this process, I discover that I am not. You ladies may understand. First, I found myself uncovered from the waist up in a room with two men who were strangers. One man was the doctor I met one time a few weeks prior. The other was someone I had never met whose job position was not explained to me. (I kept secretly wondering if, perhaps, he was the janitor.) Then, they began putting pieces of clear tape with markings on them all over my chest. The whole time they were trying to distract me by asking questions about my recent vacation. It really did not help. I still felt so embarrassed by it all. I think the radiologist sensed this because on several occasions he put his hand on my arm as if to steady me, somewhat like a father would a child. Even though it was a simple gesture, I was very affected by it. At the same time, the other clinician, who I later found out is the Supervisor of Radiology, talked to me about putting permanent markers on my skin in order to guide the laser beams. I did not want any more permanent marks on my skin, so I agreed to allow them to apply temporary marks with stickers on top of them for protection. The only problem is that I have to keep a marker and extra stickers with me at all times in case the "X’s" begin to disappear. Apparently, for the duration of the protocol, they must always be visible on my skin. Finally, we set up the time for a dry run for the radiation therapy on December 15th and the actual radiation to begin on December 16th. The one "bummer" in all of this is that the first day of radiation will be on my birthday. I am not really happy about it, but it seems there is no way to avoid it. If all goes well, I will be finished this leg of the journey around February 2nd.

Home Again - Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Abby and I (and my family) returned from Rome last night. After thirteen days of sight seeing, pasta and pizza eating, and walking for about seven hours every day (minus time for lunch), we are so very tired, but content. It was truly a once in a lifetime experience. I saw some of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen in my life. I am grateful for having had the opportunity to go. It also served as a much needed break from what can easily be described as a very grueling year.

Now it is time to return to the treatment process. I do not feel ready, but that does not seem to matter. This week, I have to get a CT scan in order to determine how to perform the radiation protocol. Next week, I start radiation therapy itself. Not exactly something I am looking forward to, but according to the doctor, it is necessary. Well, I will sign off for now because I have to go back to work tomorrow....aaaggghhh!!!

Abby Goes To Rome - Monday, November 23, 2009

Abby (the wig) and I will be traveling to Rome today. I wanted to leave her home, but, alas, I need her services during this trip. So, we will be eating pizza and pasta and lots of vegetables together in the eternal city for the next two weeks. If I can access a computer during this time, I will be posting while I am away. But, if not, I will talk to you all when I arrive home. See you later, and arrivederci for now!

Weight Gain - Thursday, November 19, 2009

I have both good and bad news to report. It was last January, when I discovered a sudden drop in weight that disturbed me. Since I have always had a very stable metabolism holding the same weight for more than a decade at a time, the sudden shift seemed unusual. I went to the doctor and had blood work done, but it came back normal. I now believe that the cancer was the underlying cause. By the time of the operation, I had lost seven pounds. That may not seem like much to some, but it was enough to make others, as well as me, take notice of the change in my frame. The naturopath was concerned that I would drop more weight during chemo because it causes many to lose their appetite. To circumvent this, she prescribed whey protein. However, since I never lost my appetite during the entire time of chemo, I ate to my heart’s content. Because I weighed less than the top poundage I allow myself, I was also looking forward to "porking out" while in Rome. However, a few days ago, I weighed myself and discovered that I had gained back those seven lost pounds. So, although I view this as another testimony to the faithfulness of God, I am a little disappointed that I now have to exercise some restraint while on vacation. I just hope all the walking we will do will burn enough calories to balance the wonderful food I plan to eat. A small but unhappy dilemma, indeed!

More About Radiation - Wednesday, November 18, 2009

There are a couple of significant things about the radiology appointment that I forgot to mention in my last blog. One of the questions in the paperwork that I found interesting said, "What do you expect radiation to do?" Marge, my nurse friend who had accompanied me, answered, "To cure you." But I could not write that because I do not believe it. So I wrote that I expected it to kill cancer cells. That was closer to my expectation than anything else. You may wonder what the difference is between the two statements. To me, the difference is significant. I believe, both from my reading and training, that cancer is an end manifestation of a many-faceted cause. The reasons may be different for each individual, but the results are the same. So the chemo or radiation can not cure the original problem, because it only addresses the results. I believe that it is my responsibility to continue to seek God and be open to what may have been the cause(s). Then and only then, do I believe that I can be "cured."

The second item of note was the fact that the doctor told me he usually recommends treatment a minimum of two weeks after chemo, so it was good that I was taking my vacation prior to the start of radiation. Apparently, he does not like any interruptions to the protocol, especially a two week one. According to him, that long a time period would necessitate additional treatments, which would not have made me happy. On the other hand, the medical oncologist had said that a two week vacation would not weaken the effectiveness of the chemo cycles. So, in my mind, it was another confirmation that God’s guidance was in the planning of this trip.

Third Phase - Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Today, I had my introductory appointment with the radiology oncologist. His bedside manner, as with my other physicians, is great. During the session, he explained the usual opinions I have heard from the previous doctors, that according to standard protocol in the U.S.A., I need radiation.

The treatment is to last 33 sessions, not 30 as I was originally told. It is a very targeted protocol that will only affect the right breast, the original site infected. He said that the reason the dosage is spread out over a six and a half week time period is so that the DNA of all healthy cells present in the breast can repair themselves in a 24 hour period. Apparently, any unhealthy, or diseased cells, would not be capable of such repair. So, as I understand it, that is how radiation destroys cancer cells. In the process, though, it creates free radicals in the local area. After explaining this, the radiologist made a statement that was very helpful to me. He said that there is no proof that taking mega dosages of vitamins C and E will interfere with or hinder the success of the radiation treatment. He stated that there is a theory that it does, but no proof. That statement indicated to me he has an open mind to alternative medicine. I was correct, too, because he then said he did not have a problem with my taking supplements. He just wanted me to give him a list for his general information. That made me a happy camper, at least as happy as one can be who has to take radiation.

Apparently, the side-effects are less dangerous than with chemo and more confined to one local area. For instance, there is the possibility of itchiness, dryness and a change in pigmentation during the time of treatment, which should gradually fade after a few weeks. The good thing about it is that the protocol only takes about twenty minutes each day and I do not have to go on Christmas or New Year’s. According to this, I should be finished by the end of January.

What To Do - Monday, November 16, 2009

I picked up a message from the naturopath late in the day suggesting I drink dandelion tea and have my sister massage my calves, which she was kind enough to do. She also recommended that I try to stay off my feet as much as possible. This is rather difficult to achieve when you work retail. At this point, the swelling has decreased somewhat, but is not completely gone. I am still taking the Turmeric, but as yet have to purchase the dandelion tea. I am glad there has been some improvement though.

Inflammation - Sunday, November 15, 2009

An odd thing occurred today. Around the twelfth or thirteenth days of the last couple of cycles of chemo, I noticed some water retention in my ankles which disappeared by the next day. I attributed it to the Turmeric I have been taking for inflammation. However, the naturopath removed that herb from my list of supplements, so I had not had any since Tuesday morning. Well, this morning, I looked down at my ankles during church and noticed that they had disappeared. More than that, my right leg started to feel funny and my toes felt like little pork sausages inside my high heels. When church was over, I made it a point to ask for prayer. This afternoon, I called the naturopath and left a message. I also started back on the Turmeric in an attempt to address the inflammation. My prayer is that the swelling will quickly diminish as I do not like the idea of water retention.

Destination, Rome - Thursday, November 12, 2009

In December 2007, just before my mom passed on, I announced to my sister that, if Mom died, I was going to travel to Italy. I reasoned that after dealing with her three month ordeal in the hospital, I should finally make the trip I had been dreaming of for years. A few months later, my brother and sister-in-law expressed interest in going, but then changed their minds. So, my plans to go in 2008 failed and I found myself at Brigantine beach rather than in Florence.

In December 2008, however, my brother and sister-in-law’s interest in the trip re-ignited and we began to seriously consider some really appealing cruises. Something odd happened during January though. My brother, who definitely carries my father’s genes in that he is ever in search of a "great deal", started sending us e-mails about cruises to less than desirable places. You have to understand that the goal was Italy, so a trip to Egypt or Turkey was just not an option. My sister and I grew more concerned as the cruises became more and more exotic and the number of days in Italy grew fewer and fewer. By February, we knew we had to "reel him in." So, one Sunday, we staged an East-West coast planning session via the internet and our cell phones. After much discussion, my brother conceded to research what a two week stay in one Italian city would be like. So, we chose Rome. Then the challenge was to find a suitable hotel. Finally, my brother found a beautiful one near the Metro station and the Colosseum. As we all viewed the website, Steve found enough amenities to consider the hotel a "good enough deal." So, it was settled.

Originally, my brother wanted to travel during the month of April but neither my sister nor I felt ready to travel that soon. When we decided on the two week stay, we chose November because the rates would be less expensive. The amazing thing is that none of us knew at the time what would happen in the next two months. It was in April that I was diagnosed and I either would have had to cancel the trip or would never have been able to enjoy it. Nor did we have any way of knowing that I would finish chemo three weeks before our scheduled vacation, giving me enough time to recuperate after the last treatment. I truly believe that God had a hand in the planning of this trip guiding us without our conscious knowledge. The timing is just too precise for me not to think this. Anyway, no matter what anyone else thinks, I am grateful as I would not have wanted to travel while in the middle of the chemo treatment. So, in a few short days, I will be saying, "Arrivederci, Martindale's" and, "Ciao, Roma."

Post Chemo - Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Today, I had my appointment with the naturopath. She reviewed my blood work from the last chemo treatment and found that, at this time, I am not absorbing my B vitamins as well as I should. Also, my red blood cell count was still low even though I have been taking more of the Marrow Plus supplement. However, in reviewing the blood work from before the operation, I realized that my red blood cell count was normal at the time of the diagnosis. I asked the naturopath whether the low count was due to the operation, the installation of the port one month after, then the administration of chemo. It was my thought that, because of these events, my body was unable to recoup its red blood cell levels. She thought that was a reasonable explanation. It helped to know this because I was concerned that anemia had been present all along. Also, she did not seem to think it was necessary to take anything special to help with the B vitamin malabsorption. In other words, in time and minus the interference of chemo, she believes my body will right itself.

Then the topic turned to establishing a new protocol for post-chemo and the trip to Rome. To make a long discussion short, the doctor gave me a great gift. She said that, while in Rome, I can eat cheese with dinner. She also said that for every chicken/turkey meal I have, I need to balance it with a purely vegetarian meal. In addition to this, I have been ordered to have at least one gelato and one tiramisu while I am there. I do not know how that news would effect anyone else, but I was ready to do a jig in her office. Until this time, I have been restricted to chicken or turkey twice and one or two slices of cheese per week. To tell you the truth, I really did not care as much about the permission to have dessert as I did about eating meat and cheese whenever I desired. According to her and others, the food in Italy is in season, local, and bio-dynamically grown. So even though it may not all be organic, it is generally healthy. Hence, my excitement knew no bounds. She also prescribed eight hours of sleep each night during the trip stating that this would do more to repair my body than anything else.

The naturopath then gave me a new list of supplements for the next two weeks and during vacation. Included in this regime was a detox formula. Hooray! However, it seemed as though she cut my regime in half. Although I am glad not to have to take so many pills, at the same time, I could not help but feel a little unprotected. I truly believe she knows what she is doing, but I still feel funny about it. I guess it will take some time to get used to the new regime and the fact that I may not necessarily need as much protection after the chemo treatments as during.

Regrowth - Monday, November 9, 2009

I really am tempted to stare into the bathroom mirror and see if I can watch my hair grow. I asked my sister last night if she would check my head for growth, which she did, but to no avail. I almost feel like a kid waiting at the window for dad to come home, expecting him to arrive at any moment. You keep waiting to hear the car pull into the driveway or see the headlights flash against the front of the house. Some evidence has to show soon because, at this moment, I just know my hair follicles are at work producing that long awaited sight...hair. Oh well, I guess there are a few other things I could do in the next couple of weeks while this phenomenon is occurring. Maybe I should fire up the curling iron or check the hair dryer cord to see if it still works.

Tiredness - Saturday, November 7, 2009

My temperature was still normal this morning, but I feel much more tired today. I still managed to clean the apartment as well as do the laundry and ironing, then, after lunch I rested. (No matter what happens, a girl has to have a clean house.) Later, I tried to do some shopping with my sister but started to feel punky. We ended the excursion early so I could rest again. I really hate to have these kinds of limitations. I lay on the couch like a potato for a while before forcing myself to get up and do a few things prior to dinner. About 7:30 p.m., I started to feel achy again and found my temperature was 99.2. So it was back to the oil of oregano capsules and by 10 o’clock the fever left and I fell into bed exhausted.

Another Day At Home - Friday, November 6, 2009

At 6:30 a.m., my temperature was normal. Feeling a little more daring because of this, I took my temperature again at about 8 a.m. I was hoping I could go to work today. Unfortunately, it was 99 degrees. So it was settled. I had to stay home again. About this time, I was paid a visit by "Ms. Self-Pity" and briefly entertained her. Then I made a phone call to a friend. Thank God for people who will allow me to unload my emotional burdens without judgement. It helps to talk to someone who cares. I was just so disappointed and frustrated to get another fever after trying to prevent it with the oil of oregano capsules. However, it soon occurred to me that the situation might have been worse if I had not taken anything ahead of time. So, I intend to rest, study, blog, and plan the things that must be accomplished in the next three weeks before I leave for Rome.

By 2 p.m., my fever broke. At 11 p.m., it was still normal, so I went to bed thankful at least for no more fever. I just need it to stay that way for 24 hours. .

Frustration - Thursday, November 5, 2009

This day began differently than the other first days after chemo in that I felt a bit nauseous. So I took more Umeboshi plum paste than usual (the alkalizing food I have been using with great success thus far). I also felt a little more "draggy" than before and by noon started feeling that familiar achy feeling again. As a preemptive strike, last night I took an oil of oregano capsule just in case a fever should start. While the day progressed, the feeling of achiness increased accompanied by a lack of appetite, which is unusual for me even during the chemo treatments. So, I took another oregano capsule and ate the "stone" soup that Debbie, our newsletter editor, brought me for lunch. It was the right thing to eat. By 5:30 p.m., I arrived home and was able to take my temperature. Sure enough, it was 99.6. By nine o’clock, it was 100 degrees. I cannot explain how frustrating this is even though I know it will be the last time I have to deal with it.

Sixth Treatment - Wednesday, November 4, 2009

This is it! The last chemo treatment ever, in my book. The usual things happened this morning at work. I tried to finish all my paperwork while managing a number of situations requiring my attention. Toward the noon hour it seemed like my time ran out. I had to rush home and actually arrived a little late at the oncologist’s office. The place is so busy that I do not think they noticed. During this appointment, the doctor told me that I did a lot better than even he expected. He said that he did not know if it was because of my constitution or because of the supplements I have been taking. I answered that it was due to God first, and the vitamins second, to which he agreed. After examining me and discussing the latest batch of minor side-effects, he told me to forget all about this office, enjoy myself during my upcoming trip to Rome, Italy, (more about that later) and that he would see me in April, 2010.

By the time my sister and I made our way to the treatment rooms, the semi-privates, which are my favorites, were completely occupied. So I settled in the "sun" room, a cheery place surrounded by floor to ceiling windows. Since it was a bright day outside, it was even more pleasant than usual to sit in there. After about a half hour, the room cleared of other patients and we had the place to ourselves for the duration of my treatment time. However, this cycle was more difficult than the others in regards to falling asleep. The effects of the Benadryl, which usually make me both restless and sleepy for about 30 to 45 minutes, seemed to last longer today. Every time I would begin to drift off, the familiar knee-jerk reaction of kicking the chair would occur and I could not relax. After about an hour and a half, I fell asleep and the next thing I heard was the nurse whispering in my ear that I was finished. Only this time I was not just finished for the day but completely finished the protocol. Even though I was half functional, somewhat like an intoxicated person, I imagine, it felt really great to finally be finished.

On the way home, I talked to both my brother and my best friend for a bit while still trying to become fully awake. Then, I had the brilliant idea to call Marilyn, the produce department head at Martindale’s. I started the conversation by yelling, "I’m done, I’m done, I’m done!!!" Then my sister and I sang "Arrivederci, Roma" over the phone to her. Those are the only two words of the song either of us know. I found out the next day that Marilyn had me on speaker phone and her daughter, overhearing our singing, questioned if something was wrong with me. She must have been worried that I was drunk and concerned if I was driving. Unknown to me, Marilyn also shared the story of my conversation with the staff. When I arrived at work they wanted me to sing that song for them as well. So in the backroom of Martindale’s I belted out the two words of that song I remember. We all had a good laugh. (Then I must confess that I got right to work because I know my bosses are reading this blog!) You may wonder why I would sing this particular song or rather phrase of a song. Well, it reminds me that I can now think about something other than cancer and chemo, something pleasant like my upcoming trip.

Final Approach - Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Well, it is almost upon me. Tomorrow I will have my last chemo treatment. It amazes me when I remember that people said, while I was still in the decision-making process regarding chemo, that it would be over before I knew it and that I would do well. In fact, some of those around me seemed to think I should be enthusiastic about such a wonderful opportunity! The problem was, at that point, I felt like I had just been sentenced to an all expense paid trip to Auschwitz and that I was the only one who realized it. You may wonder why I would perceive it that way. Well, first there was the surgery, then came the installation of the port. Next was the chemo, which in my mind was the equivalent of poison. The final touch will be the radiation, or nuclear exposure. So I faced the prospect of being cut, poisoned, then burned. It is an understatement to say I was not happy at the prospect. However, now that I am almost finished this segment, it really did go by quickly and, with all things considered, I actually have done well. So I have to admit that my friends and family were correct. However, I am very glad this portion is almost over and I never, ever, ever want to do this again!

The Next Step - October 26, 2009

Today I made an appointment with the radiology oncologist for two weeks after the last chemo appointment. This is the next stage of the protocol for me. An acquaintance of mine, who went through this whole process a few months prior to me, said that when she came to this juncture she felt unsettled. When I asked her why, she really could not explain. She said that perhaps it was the fact that this part of the process was unfamiliar to her. I thought it sounded unusual at the time but now, I must confess, I feel the same way. I have become so accustomed to the routine of chemo that something like radiation seems a little unnerving. It requires that I be at the radiologist’s office five days a week for six weeks straight. I am still trying to figure out how to manage this, exercise, work, and manage all the other aspects of my daily routine. There will also be a new set of side-effects to combat with a whole new alternative medicine protocol to incorporate into daily life. Here is something even stranger... I have become accustomed to my medical oncologist. I think I will actually miss him. After all, it took awhile to "break him in" so to speak, but please don’t tell him that. Anyway, although I am sure I will figure out how to work all this into a daily schedule, at the moment, it seems a little overwhelming.

Aftermath - October 24, 2009

During my last visit to the oncologist, he told me that with the fifth and sixth treatments there would be a marked increase in the tiredness I have been experiencing. Although I wish I did not have to admit it, I have been noticing more frequent occurrences of tiredness lately. The strange thing about it is that it does not come on gradually as normal tiredness. I can be humming along at a good clip then all of a sudden.....boom, I need to sit or lie down immediately, sometimes twice in a day. I find this most distressing as it interferes with my plans. This was my experience last Saturday. As I was wondering out loud to myself about it, my sister, ever the comedienne, said, "I don’t know. Do you think maybe it was those five "hits" of chemo? Maybe I am reaching here. I really don’t consider myself to be a Sherlock Holmes, but do you think that may have something to do with it?" She went on for so long in that vein that I laughed until I thought I would burst. Unfortunately though, I realized I have to allow for more times of rest, especially for the next month or so.

Excitement - Wednesday - October 21, 2009

Well, it is official. Two weeks from today I will be able to start growing hair and I am sooooo excited about the thought! After what will seem like a lifetime, I will have more hair than Mark, our Sales Manager. You have no idea, or maybe you readers do, what it is like to have less hair than the baldest man you know. Well, after a couple of months, I plan to leave good ole’ Mark in the dust and reclaim my place as one of the women with the most hair at Martindale’s Natural Market. Yahoo!!

Stay Home Or Else - Friday, October 16, 2009

This morning, I called work and told Marilyn (the resident pain in the neck mother hen at Martindale’s) about the fever. So, it was decided, not by me, that I would stay home from work today. The problem was that our heating system in the apartment was not working. So, I had to wear two sweaters, two pairs of socks, and "Abby" on my head just to keep somewhat warm. The poor maintenance man is new and unfamiliar with this type of heating system so he was in and out of the apartment for several hours bleeding the lines in order to make it work. As a result, I had little time to sleep. By about one thirty, though, my temperature was normal. All I need is twenty-four hours and I can rejoin the human race. By the way, we still do not have heat.

Not Again! - Thursday, October 15, 2009

The day after chemo, I awoke feeling normal and hoped that feeling would continue throughout the day. Unfortunately, about two o’clock in the afternoon, I began to feel the now familiar achy feeling again. This time, however, I was more prepared and decided to take an oil of oregano capsule. By six, my temperature was 99.4 degrees, so I took another oil of oregano and stayed home from church. What a joy this is! By ten, it was 98.8. I fell asleep on the couch until midnight, then forced myself to go to bed.

Fifth Treatment - Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Today marked my fifth chemo treatment. I have been apprehensive for weeks about this round because of the fever I encountered after treatment number four. So, the staff at Martindale’s practically pushed me out the door to the appointment. During my session with the oncologist, we discussed the fever and the fact that I did not call him during the time it occurred. After explaining to him that the fever started the day after chemo and not during the nader time (the time when blood levels drop to the lowest point), he informed me that the fever was probably due to the chemo or a virus, in which case, he could have done nothing to help me and would not have prescribed an antibiotic. So, I was convinced that I handled the symptoms properly.

We then discussed the radiation aspect of the protocol and the doctor under whose care I would be put. Apparently, he is fairly open-minded to complementary medicine. I was glad to hear it because if he was not, we would not get along. At the end of the visit, the oncologist spoke almost the same words the naturopath had the day before, that I was doing very, very well. I think, as he put it, I was "flying through" this protocol and he was proud of me, knowing how opposed I am to chemo as a whole.

After the visit, I made my way to the treatment rooms and because no patients were there I could pick whichever seat I wanted. I felt like Goldilocks with the three bears. My friend, Janet, and I settled in one of the semi-privates by the window. After asking the usual questions about side-effects, the nurse attending me made a number of comments about how wonderful my skin looked. She also remarked about how well I was doing. It really does feel good to get that kind of feedback from someone who deals with these issues on a daily basis. Then, as usual, the Benadryl took affect. I became restless and sleepy at the same time. So the battle raged between trying to relax and kicking the chair for awhile, then I fell asleep. Finally, the treatment was completed about the time I awoke and Janet drove me home. That night, although the usual "fuzzy-headed" feeling persisted, I felt relatively fine.

Great News - Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Today, I had an appointment with the naturopath. During the office visit, we discussed the various side effects I had experienced over the past months and how to address them. I am always glad to hear what suggestions she has. I was also happy to report that the products she prescribed during our last visit worked so well that those side effects had disappeared (the neuropathy and the chemical burns on my hands). However, it was after reviewing my blood work from the day of the fourth chemo treatment, that she made a shocking statement. She said she thought I might be able to do a round of detox after the sixth and final chemo treatment. I remembered that originally she had said I would need to wait until after radiation was complete to build my immune system, then I could begin the process of detoxing. So, when she suggested the idea of detoxing before radiation I reminded her of her original statement. Then I asked about the rebuilding segment of the protocol because of the need to have an intact immune system. It was then she explained that because my white blood cell counts were so good, my immune system was still operating. She also informed me that I was still absorbing vitamins which meant that my digestive system was operating as well, albeit not perfectly due to the chemo, but it was still in working order. Although she would make the final decision over the next month, no one but God, and another person dealing with cancer, could understand the degree to which that piece of news affected me. Let me explain. Chemo is designed to attack rapidly dividing cells. Since the digestive and immune systems produce cells rapidly, both these systems are naturally attacked by it. In addition, I have been reading that chemo damages organs, oftentimes irreparably. Because a person’s immune system is compromised by it, if there is a second attack of cancer, the body usually cannot withstand that attack. This is why after a number of years a second cancer can possibly metastasize to an organ or the bones, etc. Knowing these things beforehand, I have been doing all that I can to protect my body during this protocol. But, the thoughts of what the chemo might be doing to my body were always in the background. That is why it came as such a relief to know that after three treatments these systems were still functioning fairly well.

I left the naturopath’s office feeling as though a one hundred pound weight had rolled off my shoulders. After calling my sister and exploding with excitement over the phone, I went to work. Upon entering, I saw Marilyn, grabbed her arm and jerked her into the back room where other staff were working. I then let go of her arm and made the announcement to whoever would listen. I could not contain my joy even though most who heard me did not catch the full import of my news. Thanks be to God for His faithfulness.

Reflections - Friday, October 9, 2009

As of today, it has been almost six months since I first discovered the tumor in my body. Sometimes while thinking about all that has taken place since then, I think about the evening of April 4, 2009. That night I attended the 50th birthday party of one of my oldest and closest friends. Her husband gave her a surprise party anyone would envy. Friends traveled from other states to help celebrate the occasion. She could not have been more surprised or honored. When I think about what took place that evening, the picture taking, the laughter, the great food (I ate a little too much broccoli rabe), I am amazed at how much my life has changed in such a short period of time. I think that if anyone had approached me that night and told me that within two weeks I would discover a cancerous lump in my body, be threatened with a mastectomy, have an operation, undergo chemo and radiation, have a plastic port implanted in my chest, then have to detox, etc……Well, my reply would have been to inquire about which hallucinogenic drugs that person was taking. I would have then recited a list of "nevers". You may know what I mean. I exercise, eat right, and confront my emotional issues without excuse, so I will never get cancer. In addition, I would only use alternative means to shrink a tumor. Furthermore, due to the toxicity involved in chemo and radiation, I will never subject my body to either protocol. Another "never" would have been the idea of sharing my innermost struggles in a blog, let alone on the internet. I only share those things with a select few, being a very private person by nature, so this thought would have been the final proof of someone’s hallucinations. However, here I am six months later doing all of the aforementioned. So, I guess I have failed my "never" list. At this point I must have faith in a God who guides me when I ask Him to do so. I also have to trust that if I have made any mistakes in the decision making process, He will lead me back on course and keep me safe from any possible harm. And like Joseph in the book of Genesis, I believe one day I will be able to say that what was meant for evil, God used for the good of others.

How to Help - Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Sometimes I wonder why some people feel compelled to tell me about their friend, relative, loved one, or acquaintance who had cancer and died after several years. I am not sure if they think it will help me or if they just do not know what to say. To be honest, this is a time when I need encouragement rather than to hear about that other person who lost the battle for his/her life because it hits too close to home. Please understand that it is not that I do not care. It is that, right now, I am waging that same battle in my own life and there is a continual need to remain positive. One such instance occurred a week ago as I was coughing while on the phone with someone. (It was a few days after the fever had passed and I was still recuperating.) That's when the person on the other end started telling me about his friend who died ten years ago this month right after his chemo was finished and he was ready to get on with life. He used to take power walks and one day caught a chill, contracted pneumonia, and died. The person recounting the story said he did not want to scare me, but......Guess who I called after I ended the conversation? You are correct, my naturopath. I was a little unnerved, to say the least.

If you really want to help someone dealing with cancer, I would like to offer a few suggestions. Offer to clean his/her house, or cook, or drive him/her to an appointment. You could also send a card saying how much you care or call to check on him/her. Also, let the person talk if he/she needs to do so. All these things seem small but are more helpful than you realize. The offers of help I have received have amazed and touched me. For example, when I was about to start chemo, a number of people offered to take me to my treatments. I honestly had not thought about needing an escort as I was planning on going by myself, then going to work. I am so glad I accepted those offers as I am "fuzzy-headed" and tired after treatment and really should not be driving. Another dear person left a card for me, with money inside, telling me he was praying for me. That was an unexpected and needed blessing with all the co-pays I have been encountering. Also, my hairdresser will not let me pay for a hair cut or color until after the chemo is finished. (I still have some hair left.) Any of the above shows you care and really blesses the recipient.

More Adjustments - Thursday, October 1, 2009

This morning, I reached another point of decision. For months now, my family, friends, and pastors have been insisting that I make my healing my primary focus. Sometimes my skin is a little thick though. I really thought I was doing just that because I have been religiously taking my supplements, exercising, watching what I eat, trying to get to bed on time, and doing the medical thing. (You know, the chemo, etc.) So, why wouldn’t I think I was following their counsel? Well, this morning, I received a revelation. I realized I have been doing all of the above while also trying to maintain my life as it was before the diagnosis. In other words, I have been taking on stressful situations, mostly work related, as though there were no major trial in my life. And it has been taking its toll on me. I suddenly realized I could not continue this way. Mind you, it is not that I do not want to do so. It is that I cannot, at least, not until March or April of 2010. By that time, I figure I will have finished radiation, somewhat rebuilt my immune system, and detoxified my body. To continue to try to be the "Joan" that I was before the diagnosis is counter-productive to my health. Now I understand I have to lean on people more. However, the thought of doing so is really difficult since I never want to be a burden to anyone. Well, I took the first step on Thursday. I called a number of key staff together and told them that I needed their help with a situation that our business would be facing shortly. Usually, they are a very supportive group and this time was no exception. Afterwards, I felt like about ten tons had lifted off my shoulders. The funny thing is that I still have the same responsibilities, but I no longer feel alone in carrying them out. It is amazing how much a support system can make a difference in your life.

Thankfulness - Wednesday - September 30, 2009

Last week, I was asked to assist a customer who was about to start radiation. She had a question concerning the usefulness of one of our products during her therapy. I recognized her as one of the ladies I had seen while shopping for “Abby” the wig. During the conversation, she remarked about my eyelashes and eyebrows. She had lost hers during chemo and was expressing envy over mine. She also related how hard it was to not have lashes because things could get in her eyes more easily due to this. It struck me deeply. I had not considered losing my eyelashes or eyebrows. I knew I would have to talk to the oncologist about it during my then upcoming fourth treatment. But it made me even more grateful for what I have. I’ll attempt to explain. During this kind of trial, your list of things to be thankful for changes drastically. It turns from the every day things people appreciate like their families, friends, jobs, homes, sunshine, etc., to the things all of us take for granted. For instance, that day, I became extremely grateful to still have eyelashes and eyebrows intact even though both had thinned a little. I have also been thankful not to be throwing up after each chemo to the point of dehydration, for food to taste the same to me, to still have an appetite, to not have pain in my hands and feet, to still look healthy, to have energy, to be able to work, cook, clean the house, go to church each service, to still be productive to some degree, to be able to help people, and finally, to still have some hair on my head! Although now a days I resemble Uncle Fester from the Addams family more and more, sans the light bulb. I am also grateful that my bodily systems are generally in good working order. These are things all of us expect each day without thinking about it, but, believe me, you learn quickly to appreciate these things more as you walk through this type of crisis.

Just a note... the oncologist said that if I had not lost my eyebrows or eyelashes thus far in the treatment cycle, he was pretty sure, although no guarantees, that I would keep them throughout. One more thing to be grateful for! So, I hope anyone reading this finds gratitude toward a good God for all the little things of life.

Fever Gone! - Tuesday - September 29, 2009

A 24 hour period finally elapsed between 10 p.m. on Sunday and 10 p.m. on Monday without any fever so I was able to return to work. Thank God! It was a great feeling to get into my car and drive to work for the first time in days. I did actually inform the oncologist about what had transpired over the previous five days at the suggestion of my nurse friend, Marge, and Marilyn. I had to chuckle after the conversation ended though. He thanked me for supplying him with the information but expressed the desire to know of my condition as it was happening. I was honest. I told him I knew he would have given me antibiotics as a normal protocol and I did not want to lay a stronger burden on my immune system than was already apparent. Although it would have been a difficult phone call to make, I reassured him that if the fever had gotten out of hand, he would have been contacted.

Home Alone - Sunday, September 27, 2009

For the first time in this trial, I missed church on a Sunday. I thought it best not to go out in the rain until there was a 24 hour break in the fever, assuring me the infection had cleared. Actually, the naturopath, my nurse friend, and my sister felt that way and I decided to listen to them. Unfortunately, although my temperature was normal in the morning, it rose to 99.4 degrees in the afternoon. Then it dropped to 98.8 later. By ten o’clock, however, it decreased to 98.2 degrees. Now, all I need is 24 hours of normal temperature in order to go back to work. I do not like missing work time at all, as you may have guessed. I am also a little "stir crazy" as I have not set foot outside my apartment since Friday afternoon and only then to throw out the trash.

Side Effects and Fever - Saturday, September 26, 2009

Saturday, I awoke with muscle aches but my temperature was normal. The naturopath advised me to take it easy this weekend and to wait until 24 hours after the fever broke in order to re-join the human race. She believed the muscle aches were a combination of the side-effects of Taxotere and the remains of the virus I had apparently contracted. I was determined not to let the symptoms stop me from cleaning my apartment so, in spite of the pain which made it difficult to stand, I cleaned my apartment, did laundry, and ironed my clothes. Then I rested. However, by nightfall the temperature returned to 99.6 degrees, which was discouraging.

Fever Continues - Friday, September 25, 2009

Gratefully, my temperature was 99 degrees in the morning. I stayed home and rested although I wanted to go to work. Quite frankly, I think the staff would have run me out of the store if I had appeared in the doorway. The naturopath called in the afternoon and gave me a list of recommendations. She also said that I should call the oncologist if the fever went to 101.5 or 102 degrees. I was so relieved. Through the afternoon my temperature remained at 99 and then it went down to 98.8 before I went to bed.

Fever - Thursday, September 24, 2009

I felt fine all day until late afternoon about the time I started food shopping, my Thursday afternoon ritual. All of a sudden, I felt achy and chilled. I wondered if it was a side-effect of the Taxotere, because the doctor had said that this particular drug can cause muscle aches. I arrived home feeling worse and kept trying to decide whether or not to go to church that night. At the last minute, and rather reluctantly, I stayed home. Later, I realized it was for the best. When my sister came home from church she had the brilliant idea to take my temperature. It was 100.5 degrees. The doctor had sternly warned me to call him if I ever developed a temperature that high. I called my nurse friend, Marge, who told me to take two Tylenol and check it again in 45 minutes. When I did, my temperature had risen to 101 degrees. I went to bed determined to call the naturopath in the morning before I called the oncologist because I knew he was going to give me an antibiotic. That was something I wanted to avoid at all costs.

Fourth Treatment - Wednesday - September 23, 2009

The day of my fourth chemo treatment was somewhat uneventful except for the usual frenzied attempt to leave the store on time. Mike accompanied me to the appointment, which was a blessing. The oncologist began by asking me if I was planning to do radiation. I am always puzzled by his asking me whether or not I am going to follow the protocol he prescribed, but he explained by saying that he never tries to say anything is mandatory. Somehow I seem to feel as though it is. After going over the list of side-effects I had experienced, he told me that I was far ahead of most people and that I was doing excellently. "So you’ll be here in three weeks?", he said. "Yes, I will." I answered somewhat amused that he seemed unsure that I will finish the treatments. Maybe it is because he knows how resistant I am to any drug.

After my appointment with the doctor it was time for the treatment. Mike and I waited for another patient to finish so I could get one of the semi-private cubby holes the office provides. We were sitting there talking while waiting for my blood work to return. (Chemo lowers your blood levels, so they always take blood to determine whether or not the levels are high enough to take the next treatment.) Mike happened to make a comment about the TV in the room. I answered that I liked the semi-private rooms because I did not have to listen to a TV. All of a sudden the TV set in the next cubby hole became very loud. We were both annoyed by it so Mike peered around the corner then came back and sat down. "She looks about 120 years old," he whispered, "And I don’t feel right about asking her to turn it down." We were laughing about it when suddenly the volume was lowered drastically and we were both relieved.

My blood levels were very good so they started the treatment. As usual, when I have someone with me I fight sleep until the last possible moment. Mike saw how drowsy I was and encouraged me to rest. The next thing I knew the chemo was finished and I was able to go home.

Beginnings of Neuropathy - Tuesday, September 8, 2009

In the middle of the night, I awakened and went to the bathroom. I noticed that the tips of my fingers felt painful as though they were swollen and yet they were not. It hurt to use them. I wondered about it as I went back to bed. Fortunately, I was going to the naturopath that morning and could speak with her about it. I told her about the chemical burns and the finger pain. She explained that although the two drugs I am on, Taxotere and Cytoxan, do not cause nerve damage, she was concerned that this might be the beginnings of it. So she prescribed two supplements and aloe vera for the chemical burns. After about 24 hours, the nerve pain began to subside. Thank God!

Labor Day - Monday, September 7, 2009

I woke up with the same thoughts that were plaguing me last night and unloaded them on my poor, beleaguered sister. I hate unloading on her like that, but I was feeling overwhelmed with anger and disappointment that lingered through the morning.

I went to work and Mark, the Sales Manager, asked me how I was doing. I told him I felt as though I wanted to rip off someone’s head. He asked me "why" and I told him about the attitude I felt my family and friends had while I am experiencing major hair loss, chemical burns on my hands, and a twitching eye, and that is only after three treatments. God only knows what fun lies in store. I said that if one more person told me I was doing well, I could easily lambast them. I needed to seek God for help with my attitude, which I did throughout the morning. Finally, by late afternoon, I had calmed down somewhat and apologized for about the 12th time to my sister for taxing her patience and endurance. Then we went out to dinner that evening.

Angry Thoughts - Sunday, September 6, 2009

A conversation I had with a friend today really troubled me. I feel as though my family and friends feel "safe" about my outcome because I decided to follow the chemo/radiation protocol. The problem is that, while they might feel safe, I am in the midst of a raging battle and I am still questioning at times if this protocol was the best choice. There is nothing that can be done about it now though. I can only finish what I started and do everything possible to deal with the after effects later. At times I am angry because I feel Western medicine is, in many ways, a failure and no one seems to be listening, at least no one closest to me. I feel as though if I express my opinion, I will be viewed as a "wild-eyed radical." The truth is, I keep questioning why allopathic or traditional medicine does not research the deeper roots of disease. I believe that because of this and because of the philosophy that approaches healing from a "separate body parts" rather than the "whole person" view point, allopathic medicine can never cure illness. Remember, the operative word is "cure." I did not say that western medicine has not done good for society.

New Side-Effects - Thursday, September 3, 2009

While at church, I noticed that my right hand felt as though it had cuts on the side of it. I could not tell what was wrong. The next morning, what I termed a chemical burn appeared in several places on my hands. This caused me some alarm, but I did not want to call the oncologist knowing he would want to give me another drug. By Friday, my hands looked worse, especially the right one, and the only thing I knew to do was put cream on it throughout the day. Thankfully, it did not hurt, but it looked horrible.

Third Treatment - Wednesday, September 2, 2009

My third chemo appointment was today. During the course of that time, the doctor explained that chemo leaves your body in a few days which was news to me. He also explained that although the chemo was gone in a few days, its damaging effects were far reaching. More joyous news.

I then gave the doctor an article chronicling Dr. Burzynsky's cutting-edge alternative treatments in Houston, TX. He promised to read it fully later. I so want to influence this man to at least incorporate alternative or complementary medicine into his protocols. I truly believe this would greatly increase his effectiveness and success with his patients. There has to be some way to accomplish this.

After our appointment I was ready for chemo. My blood levels were excellent even though I had not taken the Neulasta shot. So we proceeded with the treatment. I again kept kicking the chair as the restlessness settled in on me from the Benadryl. About a half hour or so later, I was able to fall asleep. I do not know how much time elapsed but I finally heard the nurse say "You’re done". My friend, Janet, who had accompanied me to the appointment, drove me home and that night I conked.

Rock Bottom - Monday, August 31, 2009

I have only discussed the subject of feeling useless with one other cancer survivor to date so I am not sure whether this feeling is common or not. All I know is that I found myself feeling useless over and over again during this time. It is not that I have been rendered completely helpless, it is just that, at the moment, I cannot do all the things I want to do. When you are accustomed to helping people, assisting at your church, or producing your share at work, the idea of not being fully operational is difficult, to say the least. As time has gone by, the feelings of uselessness became more pronounced until today when I think I hit rock bottom. While exercising this morning, I found myself crying uncontrollably about it. It was then that I made a decision that somehow I would find a way to help others even during this time and announced it to God, the angels, and whoever else might care to listen. I think one has to make a decision first before you can actually move toward action. This is the reason for this blog. It is not because I have "diarrhea of the mouth" (a term my sister is fond of using for those who talk too much.) It is so that in sharing what I am going through and how I feel at the time, someone who is about to walk through the same fire, or has a loved one who is, can understand the feelings one may have in a situation like this.

Something to Thank God For - Friday, August 28, 2009

The oncologist called today and reported that both the bone and the CT scans were negative. That means the cancer had not spread to other parts of my body!! Thanks be to God!

The Scans - Wednesday, August 26, 2009

In order to prepare for the side-effects of the radiation, etc., involved in the tests, I started taking a particular amino acid supplement one week ahead of time. Then the day of the bone/CT scans came. Have you ever heard of a "day of infamy?" It started out normal enough. My friend, Marilyn, and I arrived ahead of time because she does not appreciate my desire to arrive exactly on the hour. That said, we approached the desk where the CT scan was to be performed only to be told to first go upstairs to the unit that would run the bone scan. This is where I was injected with radioactive material. The technician told me to drink 16 ounces of water every hour for the following three hours until the bone scan would be performed in order to improve the test results. Then we were directed back downstairs for the CT scan. For some reason, the technician had not understood when I told him that I was having another scan. So when it finally dawned on him that the next test was a CT scan, he changed the orders he gave me and said NOT to drink anything until after the CT scan was finished.


The next phase involved drinking two containers (I think they were both 16 ounces) of barium, then waiting 90 minutes to do the CT scan. When that was finished, I could take the test. A strange feeling started in my abdomen about that time. I kept wondering why my digestive system was so active. After about a half hour, I was released to have some lunch, then check in for the bone scan. In the hospital cafeteria, I saw the first technician and told him that I had only been able to drink about eight ounces of water so far, much less than he wanted. He seemed to think the test would still turn out well. After lunch, my friend and I walked back to the waiting room for the bone scan and the activity in my abdomen reached an all time high. My friend read the look on my face and asked what was wrong. I told her I was having colitis-like symptoms and was wondering if they were delayed side-effects from the last chemo treatment. She looked at me strangely and said, "Hello, how much barium did you drink?" I had honestly not made the connection because this was not supposed to be a Lower GI test. About that time the technician appeared and reassured me that if I needed to use the bathroom anytime during the hour long bone scan, I could. Easier said than done. First, he told me to climb up on a raised table, then he placed a strap around my waist including my arms so they could not move. Then he taped my feet together with duct tape. I felt like Nell in a Rocky and Bullwinkle episode. The worst thing about it was that every time he positioned the scanner over another body part, he left the room for seven to ten minutes depending on how much time was required. I do not know where he went, but believe it or not, that was the time the barium would act up in my colon. I lay there each time for what seemed like an eternity praying desperately, "Oh, God, help me, help me. Please help me!" over and over again. Then things would calm down inside and the technician would re-appear, re-position the scanner, leave, and my colon would activate all over again. I did not think I would last the hour, but finally the test was done and I was unstrapped and raced toward the bathroom.

When we left the hospital and headed home, the barium was still active. The problem was that I was scheduled to conduct a very important meeting at work about a half hour later. I called my boss and tried to discreetly explain the situation. Thankfully, he is a compassionate man and let me postpone the appointment until the next day. I went home and tried to forget there was a world outside the walls of my apartment. I was also determined NEVER to take either of those tests again.

Stomach Issues - Monday, August 17, 2009

Shortly after awakening, I had pains in the abdomen that I tried to ignore, which became progressively worse as the day wore on. I had no clue what to do and did not want to call the doctor’s office. So I asked Mark, the Sales Manager where I work, what he thought. He suggested ginger and gave me a few of his capsules. It pushed the pain away quite effectively although the pain somewhat lingered. I asked him later for a few extra capsules and took them later that evening. The pain did not return. Thank God!!!

Second Chemo Treatment - Wednesday, August 12, 2009

My second chemo treatment arrived and I was ready to tell the doctor emphatically that I was not taking the Neulasta shot. After reviewing the side-effects I had experienced and being re-assured that the natural supplement I was taking could keep my blood levels up to par, the oncologist agreed not to force the issue. However, not until after he strictly warned me several times to be particularly careful about contact with others from the 7th through the 10th days after treatment. These are the days when blood levels typically drop to the lowest point for chemo patients, making them very susceptible to infection. I also had to solemnly promise to call him immediately if I developed a temperature of 100.5 degrees or higher.

It was during this visit that he dropped a bomb on me. He told me that he wanted me to have a bone scan and a CT scan done in order to determine whether or not cancer had spread to other parts of my body. I asked him what that would mean. Would they inject me with radioactive material or dye or would I be subjected to radiation? He answered, "Yes" to all three. It was then that I lost my composure. I tried not to, but I could not remain calm. Fortunately, the doctor told me that he wanted to know what was troubling me. So, I did not hold back what I had been feeling for quite some time. I asked him if, when my parasympathetic and sympathetic nervous systems become exhausted and physiological symptoms appear, why would he not look for the reason behind the exhaustion? Why would he instead continue to load my body with materials that would put a continual burden on my immune system making it even harder to fight any reoccurrence of cancer? I told him I felt like I was in a Star Wars scene trying desperately to fight off laser beams from every direction. What followed was a very interesting conversation with the doctor in which he admitted the many problems of western medicine. He ended the conversation with a statement that greatly surprised me. He told me that he always wanted to learn more and that I could learn from him and he could learn from me. I was amazed that any doctor would say such a thing to me and somewhat humbled by it. What he lacks in years of experience he certainly makes up for in openness of mind, a quality I greatly need in a doctor. I am glad he is my oncologist, although I do not think I want to admit that to him. It seems somehow wrong to appreciate the person who is ordering toxic chemicals to be put into one’s body. Do not ask me to be logical at this point. I simply can not be.

So, I agreed to the scans and asked him to give me a deadline or I would probably put off the tests forever. I promised I would do them before the next treatment.

The Search For Hair - Saturday, August 8, 2009

After a semi-frantic search, I finally found a wig that looked like my hair which gave me some sense of security. By the way, I found out that manufacturers title their wig styles by female names. My wig’s name is "Abby." Although I was glad to have found "Abby", I was determined not to wear her until the very last minute. I know from talking to several women about this subject that everyone faces it differently. For me, the longer I could wear my own hair, the better. So every day for weeks, I arrived at work and ask several people how I looked. Would I freak out a customer because of the hair loss? Several staff, especially Marilyn, were kind enough to daily inspect my head and give me their honest feedback.

At the same time as the hair loss, a strange phenomenon occurred. It seemed the more hair volume I lost and the redder it became (a reaction between the Thymuskin hair treatment and the Henna I was using to color it) the more compliments I received from the male staff and the customers, both male and female. This lasted for weeks and sometimes amused me. So, I would cry every morning and evening as I fixed or washed my hair and about a half of a bucket worth came out, then I would arrive at work and be complimented on how great it looked. It really made me wonder. One day, I think I received the sweetest compliment from Brian. He sincerely told me that I had such a beautiful face that even if I became bald I would still look great. I knew he was not due for a raise in pay anytime soon, so I believed him.

There were times that I could find humor in the situation though. One particular day, I walked into the store yelling "bald-o-meter, bald-o-meter." I need someone to tell me how bald my head looks today. Marilyn laughed and said, "Give me that head!", as she grabbed my shoulders to see if all the bald spots were covered. Another day, I had a sudden burst of inspiration. I told Marilyn we could invent a new game for people going through chemo. She looked at me quizzically wondering what I was about to say. I told her that we could make a game called "Where’s Baldo?" and that chemo patients could look for the bald-headed person in the pictures. We both laughed hysterically. Every one who heard the idea thought it would sell. Please excuse my macabre sense of humor, but you have to find humor somewhere when you are in my position.

The Horror Continues - Friday, August 7, 2009

On Friday, I called the naturopath to see if there was something natural I could take to stop the hair loss. I had started on a shampoo/treatment we sell designed to preserve hair for chemo patients. However, the shampoo was supposed to be started two weeks prior to chemo and I, not knowing about the time requirement, had purchased the kit only the night before the first treatment. The naturopath suggested a supplement which I immediately purchased, but my hair kept falling out.

Hair Loss Begins - Wednesday, August 5, 2009

On the morning of the 14th day after chemo, I noticed as I brushed my hair that a more than normal amount fell out. I was so alarmed that I checked my chemo patient folder for the list of side effects only to find confirmation that on the 14th day, severe hair loss begins. I cannot describe adequately how panic stricken I was that morning.
I arrived at work only to burst into tears once inside the door. I do not know how I made it through the department head meeting that day without crying. Lea, who is also a beautician, offered to take me shopping for a wig. She took me to a beauty supply store after work where I tried on several. They all looked extremely fake. I was even more discouraged.
Each day, more gobs of hair fell from my head. One night, as I wet my hair in the shower in order to wash it, so much came out in the water flow that it felt like a blanket of fur had dropped on my shoulders. It was an indescribably horrible feeling. From that day on, I decided to wash my hair over the tub first then take a shower because it was so hard to keep my hair from going down the drain while washing it and crying at the same time.

The Pain Continues - Monday, July 27, 2009

Although the pain was decreasing a little each day, by Monday morning, I knew I had to call the oncologist's office. I learned from the nurse practitioner that what I thought was muscle pain was actually bone pain and that is why resting did not alleviate it. She told me to take ibuprofen or Motrin in conjunction with the Claritin every few hours in order to find relief. They also informed me that the pain could last a week or two. Generally speaking, I have a high threshold for pain. Most people who know me are aware of this, but having to stand one hour in our vitamin aisle was bringing me to tears. So, I called the naturopath as well. She told that some of her patients had to stay in bed because the pain was so intense. She also said that because I was taking Marrowplus, a natural product which would protect my white blood cells, I was within my rights to refuse the shot. It was then that I decided not to take it again with the stipulation that if my blood counts were below normal at the time of chemo, I would reconsider. However, by Thursday afternoon, one week after the shot had been administered, I noticed the bone pain had subsided. What a relief, thank God!!!

First Side Effects - Friday, July 24, 2009

Friday morning I awoke feeling as though someone had beaten my entire body. No matter what I did that morning, nothing seemed to help. The doctor had suggested Claritin in case I experienced side-effects from the shot but I did not want to start taking more drugs to combat side-effects, so I promised my nurse friend that I would take some Tylenol instead. It did not help at all. I did manage to work all day which was a feat considering how I felt. By Saturday morning, I relented and took the Claritin. It did very little, if anything, to ease the pain. I went to my hairdresser's that morning but was moving so slowly that I felt like an eighty-five year old rather than my present age. (No, I am not telling.) Saturday afternoon, I rested for several hours, but rest did nothing to ease the pain. Sunday was just as hard. Added to this, on Sunday morning all of a sudden I felt as though I was going to either faint or throw up at the same time. My poor sister rushed to my side and told me my arms felt "clammy." I had her bring me some Umeboshi plum paste which is very alkalizing and after a few minutes the feelings passed and I was able to attend church, although it took me longer to get there. I wondered what else could happen.

First Treatment - Wednesday, July 22, 2009

I want to first mention that one of the major blessings through all this has been the number of people who have volunteered to take me to doctors’ appointments, treatments, surgery, etc. Their kindness amazes me. My sister, Fran, accompanied me the first time. I met with the doctor before the chemo treatment, and told him that I wanted to go with the TC protocol. He said that would be fine. After seeing him, I went into the treatment rooms and chose a semi-private cubby hole. There were nurses hovering around me the whole time explaining how the treatment would go, what would be done, what the side effects were, and that I should have purchased a wig by now. They even brought a woman over to me who was completely bald to show me her head and talk about her wig. I did not have the heart to tell them how unhelpful this was.

Fran told me afterwards that I looked mad at the nurses, and actually I was angry at all the garbage I would have to deal with and the toxins that would be placed in my body. It was overwhelming to say the least. First, they drew blood and had it checked by the lab immediately to make sure my blood levels were in good enough condition for the treatment. Then they administered a cocktail of steroids to help with any allergic reactions along with an anti-nausea medication. Next, came the Benadryl, but I am not sure why. Finally, they administered the Taxotere and then separately, the Cytoxan. The Benadryl made me sleepy but restless. As soon as I began to relax, I had the intense urge to kick the chair. It took a while to calm down. I slept most of the time while listening to my GoBible (the bible on Ipod). Finally, the three hours were over, and I was able to go home. My eyes felt fuzzy, and I had a headache, but I had survived. That night I rested and had pea soup in an effort to alkalize my system because chemo is very acidifying to the body.

The doctor had also mentioned that he wanted me to take a shot called Neulasta. It is given to chemo patients in order to force white blood cells to develop rapidly in the bone marrow. This is done as a preemptive measure because chemo attacks white blood cells. He told me some possible side-effects could be muscle soreness. I had great misgivings but decided to take the shot any way. It was a decision I would very soon regret. It had to be administered 24 hours after the chemo treatment. My friend, Marge, the nurse, agreed to administer it at my house which saved me a trip back to the doctor’s office the next day.

Port Installation - Monday, July 20,2009

The day of the port was challenging. My friend, Mike, drove me which was a great blessing since I was not allowed to drive myself or return to work afterwards. I understand now why the restrictions. I arrived at the proper department on time and was given a plethora of instructions and a mind-boggling amount of information about the procedure by the attending nurse and the physician’s assistant. Then the physician’s assistant showed me the port they were going to surgically implant in my body. It was a triangular object about an inch wide and a half inch thick. It also had a thin tube attached to it, about a foot long. I was shocked at the size. The physician’s assistant explained that the port would go up underneath my left clavicle. They would make an incision above my clavicle where the tube would be inserted so that it could be placed inside a large vein. They both explained that the port would be visible through my skin because of my thin frame. So now I felt like a Borg from Star Trek. They then put me on "twilight" in the operating room and began the procedure. When it was finished, I was half in and half out, it was like being in a daze or zombie-like state. They waited until I was stable and then released me. Mike drove me home and walked with me up the three flights of steps to my apartment. At one point, I leaned over to get something, and I almost passed out. I made my way to the couch. Mike stayed to make sure I was okay and then left for work. I then had to stay very still with my eyes shut in order not to throw up. This sensation lasted a number of hours.

Unfortunately, I could not rest because every 20 minutes I had to put ice on and off. Later, I somehow managed to make lunch and eat. The day went by quickly. At night before dinner time, I received a phone call from the oncologist. He promptly informed me that he was surprised that I had decided to do chemo. He then told me that he was considering a more aggressive protocol and wanted me to make a decision as to which I would prefer. Would I choose Taxotere/Cytoxan aka (TC) which is less aggressive and has fewer side-effects or Adriamycyn/Taxol/Cytoxan aka AC, a more toxic protocol with more side effects. Not only was I still trying to recoup from the procedure of the day, but the whole idea of deciding between the two protocols added to my stress. I felt like an emotional wreck. Added to that, the idea of a doctor asking me which protocol I preferred was a bit unnerving. At that point I wondered if he knew what he was doing. (Later I realized he did.)

The next day I called my friend, Marge, the oncologist Ph.D. nurse and asked her opinion. She e-mailed a nurse friend of hers who works in an oncologist’s office. The nurse’s counsel was that both protocols were reasonable. However, due to the fact that the AC protocol has been known to produce cardiac side effects, and there is a family history of heart problems, the TC approach would be less problematic. I was immensely relieved and felt more confidant about my original decision.

Preparation Time - Tuesday, July 14, 2009

In the weeks before the operation, a naturopath happened to call and introduce herself to me. She works in our local area once a month. Since she refers many of her patients to our store she wanted to become more familiar with our products and so requested a store tour. I agreed to meet with her a week later. I was especially impressed by her training at Bastyr, a naturopathic college in Washington state, which included learning about the interaction between drugs and herbs. During the tour she mentioned that she treats many patients battling cancer. I asked for some business cards. After I made the decision to do chemotherapy I remembered her and decided to call. I made an appointment for one week before chemo would start in order to get a head start preparing my body for the treatments ahead. She tailored the program I was already on by reducing some supplements that would have interferred with the chemo. She also added some products that would protect the specific body systems chemo attacks most. I started on the program as soon as possible, grateful that I had some concrete direction.

Day of Decision - Friday, July 10, 2009

Three days later I saw the “unholistic” oncologist. That was altogether a different experience. This doctor explained the five different troubling things about my pathology report. He also gave me in percentage points the survival rate with and without surgery, chemo and radiation. He spent an hour with me and answered all my questions. He also told me that if I decided to do chemo I would need a port (a device implanted into the chest in order to dispense drugs into a large vein) installed several days prior and that I needed to start chemo within five to six weeks of the operation in order for the protocol to be more effective. He recommended four cycles of chemo, six weeks of radiation.

I told him that if I decided to do chemo, I would walk through it with a naturopath. He said that was fine and that I should just tell him what I would be taking, and if he knew anything about it, he would address it. He said many of his patients used “complementary” medicine. That was one of the deciding factors for me in terms of choosing him as my oncologist. His attitude was completely different from the first opinion.
Even so, I felt as though I were in a whirlwind. I knew my family and friends were afraid I was not going to choose chemo. Some acquaintances and friends from the health food industry were so opposed to it that I felt as though I was letting them down. I was absolutely opposed and revolted by the thought of putting toxins in my body. I did not believe it was a cure yet I felt as though I had no choice because of the progress of the tumor. I repeatedly found myself angry over the choice I had to make. Although I appreciated the concern and input of family and friends, this was my decision to make because I was the one who would feel the long-term effects of the treatment. A day or two later, I went for a walk praying the whole time. I found myself suddenly coming to a point of decision. I told the Lord that I would do the chemo and the radiation then detox my body immediately afterwards. After the walk, I prayed some more. I told the Lord I was still having a difficult time trusting Him for protection while allowing the doctors to put toxins in my body. I asked the Lord if there was a scripture that spoke to this situation. The whole time I was praying out loud I was thinking inside that there was no such scripture in the bible. I no sooner finished the prayer than Daniel 3 came to mind, the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego in the fiery furnace. I remembered they came out of the fiery furnace without harm to their bodies, their hair was not singed and they did not smell like smoke. Having worked in a smoke-damaged store for six months, I knew how impossible that was, naturally speaking. I was still opposed to the idea of chemo but realized God was promising me complete protection if I stood on His Word. The turmoil in my heart died down considerably. The next step was to schedule the installment of the port and coordinate that with my first chemo appointment.

First Opinion - Tuesday, July 7, 2009

One day while talking with my chiropractor, who had had bladder cancer twenty-three years ago, he recommended an oncologist who had cared for his father years ago. He was under the impression that this oncologist had a holistic viewpoint. I made an appointment with this doctor and the one my surgeon had recommended. It happened that I saw the “holistic”, or so I thought, oncologist first. Not only was he not holistic but he also displayed disdain towards my alternative medicine beliefs. He recommended radiation then chemo and sternly warned me not to take so much as a vitamin during the time of treatment. He never explained anything to me but kept referring to my lab reports as though I would understand the “why’s” behind his protocol. I left his office in tears. I have no idea how I got to work except by the grace of God. I could barely pray because I did not know what to say. When I walked into work, it took all the strength within me to walk into the back room and get to my office without falling apart. I felt as though I was in a plastic bubble. I could not communicate with the people around me, and they could not reach me. I was aware of all the normal sights and sounds around me, people talking about their lives, what they were going to be doing that weekend, etc, but I could not communicate with them. I felt trapped inside a windowless and doorless room. Marilyn asked me how things went, and I fell apart. I told her everything the oncologist had said. At that point, I felt hopeless, as though I had received a death sentence. Marilyn tried to console me, but nothing helped. Later, I walked into the vitamin aisle to stock product and tried to think and pray. However, I was having great difficulty concentrating. Later, Mike arrived at work and asked me about the appointment. I fell apart again. He too tried to console me, but I was inconsolable. Later that day, I attended our management team meeting. Again, I had a difficult time trying to concentrate on the agenda and refrain from crying.