See!

I was a bit nervous after that last post that I might have to eat my words. But look what I found in my garden this very afternoon! Green! This one is lettuce. And some beets and peas are showing too. See what a little faith can do!

It'll Come

I have a tiny half-size square foot garden. I was exhilarated to plant it this year. New life. Organic veggies. All that.

Last Saturday I planted spinach, lettuce, kale, onions, beets and peas. Sunday morning I started looking for little green shoots. Nothing.

I realize that seeds, like all good things in life, take time to develop. But I get wonderfully excited for that first sign of life and I can't help myself. This picture, taken today (9 days later) shows that there is no growth yet. Part of me wonders if I'm doing something wrong - planting too early, over or under watering, etc. But a bigger part of me believes that in a few more days there will be new life. I believe it enough to claim it publicly and I will post a picture when it comes.

Cancer is no different. Inspite of concrete evidence just yet, I also believe that I WILL BEAT CANCER! You'll see! And when it comes, you are invited to the celebration!

Cancer Update

I've decided to update my blog more often (at least twice a month hopefully), so if you want to hear my ramblings about life, death, faith and cancer, please check back.
Today's cancer report... Stable!! In my book, that is great. No spread to other organs. No sign of new growth in the bones. My blood counts are stable too (down by one point, which isn't much to the doctor, but still feels great to me). So we are going to maintain the course and continue with the current hormone therapy.

While I'd love to hear the doctor tell me the cancer is gone, I've come to realize that may be a near impossibility with bone mets. The bones are just a difficult organ to assess. Mostly they look for holes in the bone, but they can't really see tumors like they might see in other organs. It's a bit daunting to fight an invisible enemy (even more invisible than other cancers), but at least this gives enough encouragement to keep fighting!

I was wondering coming into today's scan if my efforts are worth it, especially my diet. Talking to the doctor about the limited info these scans offer, I'm realizing that the best assessment is actually how I'm feeling. And I feel good. Not awesome, but good. And slowly and steadily improving! Plus I am almost entirely free of a whole long list of common cancer symptoms. That's enough for me to carry on.

Footnote: We shared a ride to the airport with 2 other cancer patients today. Both have been fighting stage 4 cancer for a couple years. Both got bad news this visit that their cancers have spread to additional organs. Both were discouraged. Sure makes "stable" sound that much better! But why does anyone have to go through this?!

Cancer 5k

Of all the cancer related races out there, this one is my race. I ran the BYU Rex Lee 5k last Saturday with my dear friend Haley.

I first participated in this race (my first 5k) about 15 years ago along with my roommate Amy. At that time my mom had recently been diagnosed with her cancer. I ran in her honor,  which I have done 4 times since.

But this year was different. This year I ran for myself. Actually, this time we mostly walked it, but I was still so happy to be participating again. For the past year plus I've not only had to fight cancer, but also back pain that at one point made it difficult to even walk or stand for long. So getting back to my race has been a huge goal for me and a major milestone to accomplish.

Life is Like Eating a Churro

I did it! 1 year sugar free! And I celebrated with... a little sugar. On our recent trip to Disneyland I took a looooong moment to savor a childhood favorite - the Disneyland Churro.

Even as I write this post almost 3 weeks later, I can still recall the details of my churro. In appearance, a foot long brown tube with shallow ridges running up its length. It felt warm. It smelt warm. And sweet. As I brought it into my mouth the cinnamon-sugar granules brushed off, some melting in my mouth, some coating my lips, some falling like snowflakes on my jacket. The bite was at first crispy then gave way to a warm, chewy, crepe-like center - the perfect soft compliment to the flakier surface. With each bite I tried to indulge in a different way: small bites; large mouth-filling bites; sucking the outer layer off first; chewing the inner layer first; and so on. And each bite came with the bonus pleasure of licking up the dispersed cinnamon-sugar granules from my lips as far as my tongue could reach.

I have probably never eaten any food so deliberately in my life. It was a lot of fun and is now an embedded memory. Meanwhile, sitting next to me, my husband wolfed down his churro, licked his sugar crusted lips just once and then jumped in line for Flick's Flyers with the kids.

For the first several minutes, I was certain that my churro eating style was superior to Anthony's - he was missing out on the subtle and rich details! Then, about half-way through my churro, I realized that it was soon going to be over and I wouldn't have another for quite a long time. I was envious of Anthony's ability to eat his churro without a care, confident that he could and would get another treat later. What he lacked in absorbing the details, he made up for in unfettered and unforced enjoyment.

I wish I could live my life with a perfect balance between these two attitudes: savoring the little moments while moving forward joyfully.

Beating Anxiety

My tumor markers are rising. That's the news I got on Thursday. I thought I was going to AZ for a routine anti-hormone booster shot, but got hit with that garbage instead. The tumor markers (if I understood right) are a couple of proteins in the blood that are related to breast tissue. Everyone has these proteins, but the amount of protein is higher in breast cancer patients. My blood work in December showed the tumor markers had dropped to the tippy-top rung of "normal", but now they are "up" (I didn't ask, or want to know, how "up").

Though I took the news rather stoically, the anxiety wheel in my head immediately started turning. I don't want to die! Things were finally looking good. How can this be? I've been working my hiny off to beat this stuff. I've tried every remedy that anyone has thrown at me - from ionized water to essential oils to counseling to energy healing to physical therapy to massage therapy ... and I've been eating like a champion for an entire year! Not to mention the chemo and the menopause! For what? And even if I don't die right now, am I ever going to get a break? Am I going to have to be sick indefinitely. Waaaaaaaaaaa!

Normally, this type of thinking would plague me until I was in a panic. And stress is not good for cancer. But this time around, I had a new tool in my cancer-fighting arsenal. About a month ago, I was introduced to this great self-help book. Self-Coaching: The Powerful Program to Beat Anxiety & Depression by Joseph J. Luciani. The gist of the book is that many of us have these types of habitually negative thoughts, which we think are perfectly normal because we've always thought that way. But you have a choice to not dwell on negative thoughts. You can recognize them, stop them and let them go. One of the key principles taught in the book is that we can stop our negative thinking by separating fact from fiction. Other than a basic requirement to make plans for the future, don't dwell on what if's - so few of them ever come true. Focus only on what you actually know, get more information if you need to, and let the rest go.

I know, I know, it sounds so simple and obvious. But for a worrier like me, this concept has been mind blowing. Still, I have a lot of practicing to do. Here's how I redirected my thinking after the bad news. Ok, what do I actually know? My tumor markers are up. That's it. The doctor says that that doesn't mean the cancer is growing. Blood markers fluctuate (and I was only barely in normal range last time). All this means is that the doctor wants to do another round of blood work and then maybe another scan sooner rather than later. The tumor marker is one indication of concern, not the only indication - and I'm still feeling great! Until we actually do that scan and see cancer growing, I do not need to panic or even worry. I will keep doing all the crazy remedies I've been doing and I will keep having faith and hope.

Drum Circle

Here I am, back at CTCA for a quick over-night visit to get my lupron booster (and a massage, of course). Sister-in-law Amber came to visit me at the cancer center tonight and we were invited to join a "healing drum circle". 8 of us sat around a fire ring and drummed the hour away, along with Native American traditions and stories. "Vibration", our facilitator said, "is in everything. Vibration is how we hear, how we see, how we see different colors. The vibration of the mother's heart is a baby's first lessons in love." Tonight, we used vibration for healing. As we grounded ourselves to mother earth, we were reminded that through the earth we are at all times connected to our loved ones, were ever they are and we are connected to that sphere that gives us life. Later we spent a moment visualizing our "intent" (our current desires) as a sphere of light, that expanded to fill the whole universe and that we then welcomed into our hearts. It was an uplifting and delightful hour. I continually love to discover the connectedness we humans have to each other and the universal feelings we have to seek after love and peace and healing. I love discovering new ways to create those connections to others and to embrace those experiences of light.