What a week!

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What is needed right here is a big eyes-crossed emoticon. But I’m too tired to find one, so you will have to make it up in your head.

This has been one crazy week.

On the bad side, my neck/shoulder pain has continued. I finally was able to figure out that it happens whenever pressure is put anywhere in the neck/shoulder/back/front region, on either side, although the pain is only on my left side. You can pretty quickly deduce that this is a condition that does not allow much rest. Just leaning back on the couch triggers it, and lying down in any way or shape, on either side, or front of back, triggers it. If I find a position that puts less pressure in these areas, it seems to involve odd neck positions, and that triggers it too.

So here is what that has looked like. At night I go to sleep and within a few hours the pain has reached the point where I have to get out of bed. I may not necessarily wake up for this. One night I found myself sitting in the kitchen chair with no memory of how I got there. Other times I wake up for the initial leave of the bed, but wherever I wander, I keep dozing off, as in my head flops over, I walk a little unsteadily, shall we say. Sometimes I catch myself starting to fall off, whether I am standing or sitting. One of the things that helps the pain is standing in the shower, so I have done that a couple of times. Last night I kept catching myself falling asleep standing in the shower. With just a few hours of sleep at night, I have been exhausted in the daytime as well. With only one exception, I haven’t been able to take a nap because as soon as I lay down it starts hurting and I get up again.

Needless to say, I have not been very productive this week, with two exceptions. The first is that on Friday I actually made it to a coffee shop after radiation and wrote for awhile. This was not due to planning and discipline, but to a stroke of inspiration I had on the way to radiation. The last chapter of my book started falling into my lap, and I knew if I didn’t get it down I’d lose the heart of it. I wrote on my iPad rather than my laptop, since I had not planned for this, so it was awkward, and I didn’t complete the chapter. I need to work on it some more, but I have allowed myself to put it off a few days because I know I am so tired I could not do it justice. But I was happy to at least make a start on this promise to myself.

This week I also hosted my first dōTERRA online class. It is a week-long class with ten participants, and I have to say, it has been a lot of work, and I have been a little dazed and confused for part of it, but it has actually been fun. I have made some really fun mistakes, like the time that my computer continued broadcasting live for quite awhile after I thought it had been turned off. I still have not watched it to see just how badly I embarrassed myself, but I know I whipped my wig off and sat down at the computer, and that I caught on video my comment that I had just slathered myself in marijuana, referring to the anti-inflammatory cream I have with cannabis trichomes, which I used to try to stop the pain. Not available through dōTERRA, by the way! Didn’t work either, just as the oils I did try did not work, and the Motrin does not work, and the muscle relaxants prescribed by the doctor on Friday did not work. Well, the muscle relaxants enabled me to get a few hours more sleep than I have been, but they did not prevent me from waking up in pain.

Nevertheless, I have discovered that what those dōTERRA people say is true: I actually do love this stuff, and I do love sharing about it. And I do love the people I have been sharing with. Some I know, some I know only from Facebook, others I don’t really know at all. When I set up the class, I said I had room for ten people to participate, and these ten people asked to be included. They actually all seem to have been showing up for the classes, whether live or the recorded version available later. They have been wonderful and supportive and kind. They have told me I am beautiful, even though I can see the video broadcast of myself and I am horrified! They have told me that I am doing a great job, even though I find myself reading from a paper and still stumbling over the words, whether from exhaustion or natural lack of talent. But I have really appreciated their kindness. Really.

Other bad things have been happening in my body recently as well. Whether they are related to my pain I don’t know. But I have been puffy, like steroid puffy, even though I am no longer on steroids. My fingers have been swollen, and so have my feet and ankles. The neuropathy left from chemotherapy has been more pronounced. Here is where the dōTERRA did supply some relief from discomfort, as the area around my toes was numb and inflamed, and a good application of helichrysum and frankincense in fractionated coconut oil made them feel much better. The general inflammation, however, has been pronounced, and could well have something to do with the pain I have been experiencing.

I need a deeper change, however, and I know that. I have been eating terribly. I have been eating very unhealthy food in unhealthy amounts, and I feel awful. I know that I also need to take control of my diet and my life because of this disease. It seems as though every week I run into someone whose cancer had beat cancer once only to have it return a few years later. That second visit is generally a lot harder than the first. Often, in fact, it is fatal.

So I am back to my vegan diet, and I will let you know how that goes.

Spiritually it has been an interesting week as well. While I was experiencing discomfort during one of my radiation treatments, I closed my eyes and tried to go to that place where I danced with Jesus on the water. (For those who are new, this is an image my pastor gave me when I was first diagnosed, of Jesus reaching out to Peter and inviting him to walk on the water with him. I have visualized that during some of my more difficult times, only rather than walking I found myself dancing on the sparkling Sea of Galilee.) Only when I tried this time I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get out of the boat, because I knew I would sink, because I knew I didn’t have the faith that would allow me to walk. So I sat in the boat, and Jesus came and sat right outside of it, both our arms resting on the side, and we talked. “Well, you can’t really blame me, can you?” I asked. I’m not sharing them again here, but I have my questions and Jesus knows what they are. I remember some years ago when I brought them up (again) to one of my pastors, he said,
“Sharon, do we have to dance this dance again?” And I guess we do. I am locked into it, seemingly for a lifetime. I spin and spin and become dizzy, and can no longer tell which way is home.

I have given God ways to free me from it so I can rest in his arms forever. “God, please just let me have one full night of pain-free sleep.” Such an easy thing for the creator of the universe, yes? No, I guess not. It probably wouldn’t work anyway. I would probably just say, well, I got better. It was time, and my body healed my injury. Why would God give me a chance to fail and go back on my word again? But okay, this hurts and I’m tired.

I do see another doctor on Monday. My radiation oncologist prescribed the muscle relaxer I started taking last night. So by process of elimination, by Monday we will be able to say say it’s not that, and move on, and hopefully find what it is and what needs to be done. Unless God or my body chooses to heal it first. Either way is fine. The faster way is better, whatever that is.

So that’s what’s up right now. Thank you all for your support! Love to all of you!

I need to be brave

Blog what if fail or flyAs I was sitting in the waiting room at chemo yesterday, I read a blog by a fellow cancer patient and amazing person, Nanea Hoffman, in which she talked about being referred to as a warrior. But she said she felt more like the battlefield than the warrior. I couldn’t agree more! Even reading the title and intro to the blog, I was thinking, I am not a warrior. I am not doing anything heroic here. Just like everything else in life I get kudos for, I am just taking one step at a time, “following directions” as Nanea put it.

But I’ve been doing a bit of inner assessment lately, and I have decided that perhaps being the battlefield is not enough. Perhaps I really do need to hit that warrior pose.

At a recent trip to my oncologist, I asked about my prognosis. Funny how it took all these months to get to that question, but it did, and then I only asked it because my daughter wanted to know. So here is the answer. Right now I am cancer free. However, because I was at Stage 3C, there is a 40 percent chance of the cancer reoccurring. That’s why I am undergoing chemotherapy and radiation, to reduce those chances.  My five year survival rate is 72-82 percent. My ten-year survival rate is 55-65 percent. Now those odds are better than even, right? I have more of a chance of surviving than I do of dying, but honestly those are also pretty good odds of dying.

Yesterday evening I was talking to one of my son-in-law’s friends who is studying nursing, and he said that he has full respect for medicine, but that he also believed there was more to it than that, and that our will plays a large part in our healing. And I had to wonder, where is my will in all this? Because I have been feeling awfully defeatist lately.

I am at a point in my life where I just feel kind of lost. I have no idea what the future holds, and no real firm plan for it. I’m just kind of tossing filaments of hope out there and praying something comes back on them. Or to put it more accurately, I am spinning filaments of hope, when what I really need to do is get off my butt and start tossing them. They are not going to reap anything sitting in a pile on my bed.

Physically, I have been on a deep downward spiral. Some of this can be attributed to chemotherapy, for sure. I seem to have blessedly escaped most of what I had feared with chemo, but its effects have been certain. Before I began chemo, I was a vegan, and I will not equivocate on the fact that a vegan diet is established as that which is most likely to prevent and help heal breast cancer. When I asked my oncologist about diet, that was the first thing out of his mouth: there is some evidence that a diet free of animal products is effective in cancer prevention and treatment. But the next thing out of his mouth was, don’t worry about that during chemo. Just eat whatever you are able to eat.

And oddly enough, one of the first things I was unable to eat was most vegan foods. Things that had been the main staples of my diet suddenly made me gag. In my first chemo cycle (AC — adriamycin and cytoxan), I had trouble with a lot of foods. There seemed to be one thing that I’d latch onto and I’d eat that almost exclusively until that too made me gag, and then I’d latch onto something else. These were not vegan foods. There was boiled chicken and rice, well known for nausea abatement after all, then quesadillas, then tuna sandwiches on Beckmann’s Whole Wheat Bread. At one point, I became unable to drink coffee any longer. In the space of a week I threw two full Starbucks iced almond lattes in the garbage after just a couple of sips. At home I switched to tea. Now if you know me at all, you know that coffee has always been my “comfort food.” Such is the power of chemo!

Now, four infusions into my second chemo cycle, Taxol, I am feeling completely different. At this point I am ravenous. I am hungry all the time. I believe I am feeling the effects of the steroid, decadron, that I get with my infusions. Why I would feel it more now I don’t know. I got it in the first cycle, 10 mg by IV with the chemo infusion, then 8 mg a day for three days after. That came to 34 mg every two weeks. Now I only get it with infusion, but I with the Taxol I get infusions every week instead of every two weeks. That means I am getting a total of 20 mg of decadron every two weeks, which is a lot less total, but perhaps it doesn’t have a chance to clear my system as well? It has given me insomnia, and the heebie jeebies, and it has made me want to eat all the time. And I have slipped back into some really negative eating patterns of unhealthy foods in unhealthy quantities, and I even started drinking diet sodas again. It’s a vicious circle, I know. The bad foods and sodas only make you crave more bad foods, regardless of what made you start eating them in the first place.

So I am thinking that with my revived appetite, it might be that I can start eating the vegan foods I used to enjoy. And then maybe I can cut out the bad foods I have been eating.

I initially had a lot of paranoia about foods as well. Actually I had paranoia about everything, because, you know, diminished immune function due to chemo leaves you open to infections. So spring flu season rolled through shortly after I started chemo and I did catch a chest cold, and yes it was worse than the chest cold that everybody else had. It turned into a fever and had to be treated with antibiotics, and then it turned into a cough that hasn’t completely gone away eight weeks later. It does seem I have had some troubles with food. I really couldn’t eat food that had been left out for a long time, or leftovers, without getting quite an upset stomach. But my white blood cell count remained high through the first cycle of chemo because I was getting Neulasta, which boosted white blood cell production higher than normal.

In this second cycle, I no longer get Neulasta because the effect of the Taxol on your immune system is not as drastic. My white blood cell count has continued to fall every week, however. This week it was at 4.5, which I think is low for a normal person, but okay for someone on chemo. Nevertheless, my chemo nurse has told me that I can eat those forbidden vegetables. I’d been told to avoid any fruits or vegetables that can’t be peeled. That took a lot of joy out of a lot of things, like simple sandwiches, never mind actual salads. I substituted doTERRA Terra Greens, a powder which you can mix with water and drink. It wasn’t awful, but you couldn’t put it in a sandwich like lettuce and tomatoes. It didn’t have that crunch, and you couldn’t stick a fork into it, like a salad. It lasted 30 seconds, because you don’t savor it. You get it down. I’m sure of its health benefits, but it’s not a meal.

I know chemo will be over in eight weeks, but I don’t want to spend those eight weeks slipping further down this slippery slope.

The answer to my problems is not all diet, however. It is a battle in my mind, and in my spirit, and in my body. It is a battle against fear, and against this deep down sense that I am not worthy, or just simply that I am not able to achieve success.

I have spent a long time dwelling in my mind and honestly ignoring my spirit and body. My mind demands to be entertained, to be kept busy. I couldn’t stand still in a line at a store without getting out my cell phone to occupy my brain. There are probably a lot of good reasons for this. There are a lot of deep dark holes in my life that my brain has done a darn good job of keeping me out of. Distract and deny. That is perhaps the secret to this “strength” people keep accusing me of possessing. But it is not real strength. Real strength lies in the ability to look into those dark holes and turn on the light.

Even my spiritual practice has rested in my mind. It consisted primarily of reading the Bible and having brief one-way conversations with God. Well, I have pretty much given up the Bible reading at this point. I know there are ways to read it and ways to not read it, but I couldn’t master those. I just kept tripping over things, stopping and saying, “Wait. Is this really what you are like, God?” I have read the Bible many times over the last 40+ years, in many different frames of mind. I have read it and have not seen all the things in it that I cannot avoid now. I will probably go back to it at some point, because it has drawn me all my life, but for now I have put it down. I am thinking perhaps it is time to spend some time allowing God to speak to me, that it is time to still the mind’s incessant need for input and let my spirit be quiet so I can hear. God, who are you? Who am I? What do you want from me? Or, more to the point, God help!

I am thinking it is time to spend more time in my body as well. My strength has been zapped. The first chemo made me feel tired all the time. In this round, I think I might have a little more energy, if only from those darn steroids. I haven’t been able to use it much, though, because my muscles and endurance have suffered and getting them warmed up and going again is no easy thing.

But this I know. Days drift by, and I need to catch them before they have all disappeared and I am left adrift in the mist. I am afraid of the future, and it has created in me a kind of paralysis. I don’t want to move. I think of things do be done and I am filled with a deep lethargy. I have got to break free of this. I need to find a way to support myself and my family, and to fight this battle like a warrior. For this very moment, perhaps the best I can do is utter that prayer: “Help, please.” Show me the way. Give me the strength to walk the path, even when it leads me up the mountain. Help me to not only endure, but to succeed, to conquer the darkness that wants to swallow me.

Breast Cancer Journey: Dear God, what do you want from me?

16196717_10211607204321350_2071707470_oDear God, is there something I am not getting here? Is there something you want me to do that I might not have the energy to do after I start chemo? You wouldn’t, umm, be trying to kill me or something, would you?

No, I don’t believe that. But why would I? I have not taken this thing seriously since before my diagnosis, since my ho hum attitude toward being asked to come back for a second mammo and ultrasound after the first one. The terms, “I have cancer,” and “I have breast cancer” — I can say them, but they don’t really ring true. I can stand in front of the mirror and look at the mastectomy scars, and there is still some disconnect. Is that me? How did I get to here, on the other side of that mastectomy?

Also, I had a PET scan, and no cancer was found in my body after the surgery. Now I figure this doesn’t mean that there isn’t any, or they wouldn’t bother to torture me with chemo and radiation. And my type of cancer is sneaky. It is invasive lobular carcinoma, and while most cancer grows in clumps, this type of cancer grows in rows of cells, eventually turning into sheets of cells instead of a lump. It is insidious because it can be hard to detect. So while a part of me says, they have cut out all the cancer and now we are just cleaning up any stray cells, but that shouldn’t be too hard so I will be fine, another part of my is cautious and concerned.

So far my chemo has been delayed twice, and it is about to be delayed a third time. First I cannot seem to get rid of this surgical drain, and I can’t have chemo until after it is gone due to the possibility of infection. It seems I am out to set some sort of world record in surgical drain retention. As of tomorrow it will be seven weeks. Usually they are in for one to two weeks, occasionally as much as four weeks. The output on the drain needs to be below 30 cc’s a day before they can safely remove it, and mine is still averaging 50, occasionally dipping to a blessed 40. My surgeons keep saying, “Are you doing too much?” Well, I’m doing darn little (which you can tell by looking at my house), but who knows, maybe it is too much.

Meanwhile, the anticipation of chemo has been a pretty dreadful thing. I have been given a whole list of possible side effects, each one of which would lay me out on its own. I have also been given a lot of literature on chemo from various sources, and have found some measures that I can take to try to minimize those side effects, and have begun those. The doctors prescribe a ton of anti-nausea medications, including an IV infusion of one at the time of the chemo itself, so I am hoping not to have to deal with that. The mouth sores, the bone pain, those worry me.

What worries me most is the immunosuppression, trying to avoid getting sicknesses and infections. At least it’s not flu season, I told myself, but just then it seems an end of the season virus decided to make the rounds, and sure enough it hit my family. I was already in chemo mode, and I washed my hands raw, I used hand sanitizer wipes and gels after every contact with every surface, and I avoided getting close to people. It had hit my little grandson first.He is fifteen months old and this is his first real illness. Five days later his mom and dad both came down with it. They all live with me, so at that point I figured I was doing a pretty good job avoiding it. Under normal circumstances, I do have a really good immune system when it comes to upper respiratory infections. But a week later my system surrendered. I got a scratchy throat first, and as much as I tried to deny it, it turned into a cold.

Right now I am trying to baby myself. I am trying to stay in my room, on my bed. In fact, I am writing from there right now. I am trying not to talk, because it irritates my throat, and not to “do too much.”  I have taken antihistamines and expectorants to keep my bodily fluids from getting out of hand, and tylenol to keep the inflamation down. I have requested someone bring me greens to throw in my shakes, and I am taking all my supplements. I am just trying to minimize this darn cold so it won’t turn into a long, drawn out thing, and to get rid of this drain.

We simply have got to get this show on the road. I am hoping the anticipation of chemo is going to be worse than the chemo itself. I am looking forward to the day when I can say, well, we got through that. And in addition, this is really dragging out the time of treatment. As it is my disability payments don’t quite reach the anticipated end of my treatment, and that end keeps getting farther away. I talked to another cancer patient today. We were talking about supplements, and not being able to afford them, and the term she used was “financially crushed.” I thank God our medical insurance is pretty good, but I was unemployed and looking for a job when I was diagnosed, and I won’t be able to actually get a job until it is all over, and the place where the two ends don’t meet could be tough.

If I had to do it all over again, I think I would take money more seriously from my youth. I would try to like science more and English less. I would learn about money and how it works, and put that knowledge to work. Sometimes I watch shows about people with great careers, often instead of families, and I think how much easier their lives are. But that was not who I was, not who I am. Even to this day, my family means more to me than money. In fact, my family is the only reason I even care about whether I have money or not.

But here is what I would do if I had to do it over again. I would be a vegan right from the start and would raise my children that way. I have seen since I started a vegan diet that literally all my blood chemistry has fallen dramatically into line. Asked generally about diet, with no reference to veganism, my oncologist said that there is some evidence that a diet free of animal products helps protect from cancer (although he did admittedly say that during chemo he wanted to me just eat whatever I could). I would not drink sodas, at all. All of the cans are lined with BPA, which is implicated in causing a host of medical problems, including cancer and diabetes. Same goes for diet sodas. I spent so much of my life addicted to diet sodas in BPA lined cans.

I used to think, as I abused my body through junk food, that one day if I reached the point where it was possible that it would cost me my life (I had in mind sudden heart problems rather than an insidious cancer invasion), that in that moment I would regret every single unhealthy, unnecessary morsel or drink I put into my mouth, ever. I would think to myself, why don’t I just stop now, so I don’t have to come to that day? Why, really, why? In my heart of hearts, I think there was a bit of a self destructive impulse in there. But there is one thing I know for certain, and that is that I don’t really know myself all that well.

Anyway, this is where I am right now. In limbo, circling the field, waiting to land. It’s getting to be really old, too. So, God, if there is something I need to get done before I head into chemoland, could you please give me a bit fat hint? I’d appreciate it.

Or maybe there is just some wisdom I can’t see. Maybe my chemo was delayed twice, because God knew that sometime in that third week, I would come down with a cold, which I am not allowed to do while I am having my treatments.

Who knows? But whatever it is, could we please just get a move on? And make it an easy journey, please, God?

As for the rest of my life, it hasn’t been going all that well. Since January 11th, I have had three, count ’em, three surgeries. The first one, the major one that required hospitalization afterwards, was okay. The second one, which was to remove some dead skin, I have actually characterized as fun. I had sedation rather than full anesthesia, no breathing tube, and they woke me up in the operating room right after surgery so my surgeon could talk to me. I woke up in the best mood ever! I wanted to party! More to the point, I wanted to eat. Everything. The surgery was performed in San Francisco, because it was an emergency surgery and that is where my surgeon was working that day. I asked my husband if we could go to Fisherman’s Wharf on the way home. It had been an afternoon surgery, so I had gone for a very long time without eating, and I was hungry. I could taste that crusty sourdough bread that is like no other bread in the world. And crab. My little vegan heart wanted crab.

We didn’t go, and I don’t honestly remember what I did eat that day. But it was as though a switch was flipped that turned on my appetite. Having done so well for so long, I just wanted to eat. I had previously only wanted food when I was hungry, and then it was just something to eat, but suddenly I was thinking about food all the time, and I was eating stuff I didn’t even really want or like in an effort to satisfy this craving … which hasn’t gone away, if you were wondering.

Of course, I also had my appoinment with my chemo doctor right around then, and was told all the dietary restrictions I would have during chemo. I was also told I might not want to eat because food would probably not taste good. Well, that’s okay by me. I think. Perhaps I was making up for my anticipated losses by eating more food than I need right now. Nevertheless, I am struggling to bring this under control, because it is not healthy.

Spiritually also I have been suffering. God is so far away! I told him the other day, if you want me to keep believing, you are going to have to start talking to me. No word yet. In all honestly I haven’t talked to God much either. I read about him, think about him, learn about him, but I haven’t actually been talking to him. This is a big fat heavy duty subject that I’m really too tired to go into. But it’s just another area where I’m struggling.

Not unusual, I don’t suppose, to struggle with some things in these circumstances. I do appreciate your prayers, as always, and your love. That is one thing I have had in abundance in my life, love. So thank you all for that.

Hope to be back soon with progress and good news!

Breast Cancer Journey: Bye Bye Bye Booby Bye Bye

So since I am old and a lot of you are young, I guess I need to clarify that you are supposed to hear Janis Joplin singing the title line of this blog entry. But yes, I am indeed going to be 15825811_10211421048947582_6925963522546962115_nsaying goodbye to one of my boobies next week. I am a little apprehensive, because it is surgery and all, but I have never really liked my boobs. They are just too cumbersome. What upsets me most is that they are removing one and leaving the other, which will be the worst of both worlds, at least for awhile. Eventually I will have a new mostly matching set, smaller and happier boobs, although that will take another, much more complicated surgery a couple of months later.

It has been a long wait for this surgery, and this has not been to the benefit of my mental health. I went through the anxious stage, but I guess that was too much for my brain to handle, so I eventually slid into my sort of familiar land of denial of feelings. In that place, I have become dull. I have withdrawn from most physical contact with the world, and when I do have contact I just feel as though I am not completely there. I don’t engage. I listen and contribute some to the conversation, but I feel like I am somewhere else. People will ask if I am okay, or just wonder. Yes, I say, I am okay. And it is true: I am okay. I am just not here. I am flat. Like one side of my chest is going to be after next week.

I have also realized that I am having a hard time seeing past all this. It is basically going to take up much of the next few months. There is surgery, then healing, then likely radiation, and after that the reconstructive surgery. Honestly if they were taking both boobs I might forego that part, but it is standard part of the treatment now so I am going to do it. That will be a far more complicated surgery since it will be both boobs, plus they are going to take the material to make the new boob from my belly, so three surgical sites, with three completely different procedures in each, and a long surgery I imagine, since they have to reconnect blood vessels to the transplanted tissue. But the implants, I am told, don’t last forever. You have to get them replaced every ten years or so. No thanks!

The recovery from the second surgery will take a month or so anyway. And they are still not sure what other treatment will be in the future. Possibility of chemo, likelihood of hormone treatments since my tumor is both estrogen and progesterone receptor positive. So surgery, healing, radiation, maybe nine or ten weeks. Second surgery, healing, another four weeks. Honestly I guess it could all be finished in three or four months, and yet it feels like an eternity, and I am having a hard time seeing the other side.

I was in the awkward position of actually looking for a job when all this began. And I kept looking for one, although I knew that even though the law doesn’t require me to, I would have to tell a prospective employer that I would be having to take off large chunks of time immediately after hire, and nobody is going to hire me under those circumstances. So the job search is going to be off the table for awhile. Meanwhile, there are a few things I could be doing to prepare for my future earning potential. I do have two books that are in progress in one way or another. If worse came to worst I could probably self publish them and make at least a little bit of money. I know that I am really, really bad at self promotion, however. I’m not sure what it is that keeps me from working on them, but I think part of it is just thinking that it is impossible for me to be A Writer. It is what I always intended to be, from first grade on, and here I am Still Waiting To Become What I Am Meant to Be. Oh, I have used my skills to make a living, for certain, mostly writing legal briefs and motions, letters and declarations. Fun, but not what I had in mind. I wish someone would just offer me a publishing contract and give me a deadline which would make me Do Something. But since I haven’t even marketed my ideas, that’s not likely to happen. Meanwhile I sit paralysed.

I also enrolled in a Real Estate course awhile back, which I could work on and complete, and which would give me a little extra padding to my resume. I have been a resident property manager in my life and I am a paralegal, so add those three together and it could be helpful in getting a job. Who knows? I could even make it rich selling real estate! But I’m not doing that either. Instead I am watching Netflix and playing Candy Crush and visiting on Facebook.

It’s not like a don’t think there is going to be a future. The thought of dying hasn’t actually entered my mind. I know it is a possibility, but it is a statistically remote possibility. It is just a battle to fight and move on to the other side. On the other side, I will be better, and stronger. I believe that. But all I can see right now is the mountain in front of me.

So, benefits of cancer? Yes, I have experienced some. Most notable has been weight loss, and I don’t mean unhealthy weight loss because I have cancer. Since my diagnosis I have returned to a vegan diet, and a healthy vegan diet. I have lost fifteen pounds since November 30th, not bad for the Christmas season. But the most amazing thing is that my appetite has normalized. I am not certain what to credit this to. I did quit drinking diet sodas and I wondered if perhaps it was true what all those annoying people have always said, that the artificial sweetness of the diet soda triggers your appetite. And I drank a lot of diet soda. But these days, I just don’t have that insatiable desire for food that I used to. Being a vegan has helped with unconscious eating patterns. Over the holidays my kitchen counter was sometimes filled with cookies and pies, and had I not been a vegan I might have just unconsciously grabbed them and eaten them. But because I was a vegan, I couldn’t, and more to the point, I didn’t want to. I feel an honest aversion to the whole idea of eating animal products. On the other hand, there was a box of vegan cupcakes I got for my birthday that I didn’t eat either. I had a couple of bites of one, and it was just sickeningly sweet so I never touched them again.

So I find myself thinking, oh, this is what it’s like to be normal? I don’t think about food all the time. When I am hungry I look for something to fill the hunger and I am filled pretty easily. I am losing weight. I have diabetes, and at last check my A1C had gone down to 5.9, which was down from 6.5, which was from 7.5, and my random glucose in my pre-op test was 88. Win, win, win. Weight loss, new boobs, removal of abdominal fat to build my new boob. I am finally going to be beautiful! Okay, maybe not beautiful, but I will have the opportunity to be fitter than I ever have been. Do I have cancer to thank for this? At least in part. Better health through cancer. It was that wake up call, I guess. Take this stuff seriously.

Surgery is next Wednesday, January 11th. I appreciate your prayers. I will get back to you afterwards and let you know how it goes. Thank you as always for your support.