Good Morning

I just woke up and I'm feeling great. Pretty funny how it goes. Heck mornings are usually when I'm feeling the least inspired! But I feel great and look forward to getting some things done today. The sun is staring to rise and it sure looks beautiful.

Emotionally Up & Down

I feel SO insecure right now. All day. About everything. I know it's the chemo effecting my emotional balance, but I go in and out of remembering that this is not me and it's just the chemo effecting my brain at another level. I find myself bummed out and sad, wandering around the internet hoping to find something interesting (and staying away from the television - the master of depression), only to realize this is temporary and I'll be back on top of my game in a matter of hours or days.

To tell you the truth, what I find most difficult about it is that it keeps happening - every other week following treatment - over and over and over. You know how it goes: I update you letting you know that I am emotionally down and then a week later I am telling you how inspired I am. Heck, you could use my blog entries as a sort of calendar. If I'm emotionally miserable, you know it's the first or third week of the month. If I'm inspired and telling you how I'm going to change the world, you know it must be the second or fourth week!!!

It cracks me up and always brings me around once I'm laughing about it. And right now it's pretty funny.

Tuesday's Anomaly

On Tuesday December 30th - day two of my 7th chemotherapy treatment - I surprisingly, felt well. I got inspired and at 10 PM, I was at Castaway's - the club in Ithaca that generously hosted our October benefit - for Reggae Tuesday. Reggae Tuesday is a weekly event in which all are welcome to join the house band on stage and participate in an impromptu performance of the song(s) of their choice.

I had been an occasional participant at Reggae Tuesday for a number of years - singing harmonies with my friends who write reggae tunes or occasionally performing one of my own which they masterfully play reggae style. But as you can imagine, stage performance hasn't exactly been on my mind for the last year and a half.

Well, Tuesday December 30th was an anomaly in my chemo-filled world and I can say I had an absolutely amazing night. I was up on stage in a way that I have never been before. I didn't nail every harmony nor did I expect to, but I did some lyrical improvisation like I've never done before. Most importantly, I returned to the stage with two of my dearest friends - Rob & Kevin - which meant more to me than I can put into words. However, I can say with certainty, I felt like the life I had before cancer was returning to me.

I have no plans to get back on stage before my chemo treatments are over. I'm not saying it won't happen, because I never imagined I would have it in me to begin with. I simply consider it a gift that I accept with no expectation attached. Right now I will simply keep my shoulder to the wheel as I tolerate these bi-weekly infusions. They certainly don't get any easier. And as soon as I receive some photos of the evening, I'll definitely post them!

Coming to Life

I have just begun my seventh chemotherapy treatment...I think. Guthrie Clinic provides it's patients guest access to their wireless internet system, which makes it even easier to pass the time during these chemo infusions.

It's amazing how each week after I receive an infusion and return home to rest and trudge through the side-effects, watching movies, football, basketball, hockey - what ever's on - I will judge myself because I'm not working or taking care of the kids or doing things that need to be done around the house. Then when my mind is clear and I start to see through the "fog," I recognize that my feeling sick - too sick to be up and about and too sick to read because I can't focus - is expected. And for me to do only what I can tolerate is equally expected. But the chemotherapy affects my memory and I actually forget that my being in no condition to do much of anything is expected or at least understood and the self judgment arises.

It seems to be just another version of my resistance to rely on Daniela for so much - care of the kids, the home, etc., etc. Yet these emotional struggles and something I am quite accustomed to ever since my treatment began. But it's amazing how the forgetfulness I experience from chemo keeps the cycle of judgment in motion - every other week, the thoughts repeat themselves. I must continually remind myself that I am in treatment, because I literally forget at times. Doing the same thing over and over - treatment after treatment - creates a familiarity with the side-effects and they start to feel like the norm. My mind begins to believe that my experience is who I am. And that does not leave me feeling good about myself.

So I am grateful to have an extraordinary wife, who gently reminds me - often with a bit of a laugh - that all of this is temporary. And as she tells me this, she knows that the next week I will feel great about my life. And that in the week to follow, I will once again be revisited thoughts of inadequacy.

Chemotherapy is a peculiar drug. Accepting that I forget over and over week by week isn't an easy thing because it's not like what I've just shared with you is obvious to those who come and visit or even to myself at times. It's not that I will forget what I was doing or why you are visiting or where we are going. It's a far more subtle experience that shows up in my thoughts during the repetitive and mundane moments throughout the day. As I lay on the couch or in the recliner feeling achey and out of focus, watching basketball or a movie or as I prepare myself something to eat and move about slowly because of the flu-like symptoms I experience, I start to: "think this is my life" - completely forgetting that not only is this not my life, but it's scheduled to be over in March of 2009.

And oddly, it's not disappointment I feel when I realize that I am caught up in the murky fog of chemo side-effects. I actually feel relieved when I realize I am actually doing exactly what I need to do and that it is in fact only temporary. March will come and with that Spring. And as the sweet smell of blossoms and sprouting green plant-life begin to take over the odorless browns and greys of winter, I too will come to life. Chemo will be done and it will be time to experience the energy of a healthy life - one that was so familiar to me only two years prior. I am delighted and even more so for an incredible summer.

If you celebrate Christmas,

Have a very Merry Christmas.

If you don't, have a beautiful day anyway!

a letter to santa...

dear santa,


daniela here...

i know it has been awhile since I have written. ok...years, actually...i know you have much to do this time of year, so I thank you in advance for taking the time to read my letter.

you probably get a lot of mail now, so i'll give you the penny version recap & then my request:

it's been almost 2 years now...bert has had cancer, survived cancer, and is undergoing post-op treatment for cancer. this will go on till april. as you know, we had a baby, who is now 2, and an 11 year old. honestly, the last couple of years have been a bit hard, especially for bert. always in the background, like an old 'frenemy', lingered the curiosity, "am i going to live?". with cancer, there is little escaping it. throw into the mix the inability to walk much or move more than from one room to another (in significant pain) for a whole year, it added up to quite a whopper of a time...

our income went from pretty workable to $1300/month. it had our extended family make significant financial sacrifices in their lives in order for us to remain in our home by supporting our rent & heat (we just missed the cutoff for gov't $$ assistance), and then we were just able to pay for our other bills and buy food for the family out of our monthly income. the added kindness of friends, loved ones, and total strangers helped lighten the burden from time to time.

there was one point not long ago that none of us even liked one another in this household, when bert began his post-op chemo. it was like all the love, laughter & joy we had generated through all the crap just got sucked out of existence, and we were left simmering and stewing...eyeing one another with judgment & criticism...of course, we brought it right back around to Love, laughter & playfulness, but it really took something to do so...it was like a miserable delayed reaction to all the difficulties this whole cancer journey had on each of us individually and in different ways...the impact of cancer on a family as a whole is just enormous.

so, the flip side of this coin was the deepened appreciation & gratitude we have for one another. it's a sacred and precious thing to partner up with someone you love and cherish for the brief & fleeting time we are here together on this planet. we are honoring that sacredness. we also can see how intimately connected to our life purpose this cancer journey has been. that is beginning to reveal itself to us, and is very exciting (more on that later...) !!

so, here are my christmas wishes for this year ( and i do understand fully that i am ultimately responsible for creating my life...i also gratefully accept any help from outside forces!!)

1. health & happiness for our global family, all around the planet.
2. independent $ ease, when we eventually shift from this chapter of our lives into the start of the next.
3. an extraordinary year with our new president
4. no more cancer for bert... e-v-e-r!!!!!!!!!

well, that's it, santa. that's all. if i can only have one, i'll take number 4, hands down. it might be selfish of me to pick that one over global wellness, but right in this very moment, all i want is for bert to just be done with the varying forms of suffering he has endured. like, he got every form possible, i think....can it just be done, soon??? i love him so dearly, that i'm pleading his case to be over soon....so, whatever pull you have to make this happen, i'd be ever grateful...

by the way, i'm Cc-ing God, Buddha, and Papa Smurf on this...i'm leaving no stone unturned...

love,
daniela

ps: please leave something x-tra nice for bert's doctors and the nurses who take such amazing care of him during chemo. they should be sainted.

What a Nice Surprise!

I just took a look over to the left side of this blog page and saw some new faces in the Followers section - what a treat! Thanks for putting yourselves up there. Not only is it a gift to see your smiling faces, but it also means a lot to me to read about you and know who you are. Combined with the comments, it creates a little more connectedness between us all.

Speaking of connectedness, yesterday, I just learned of an organization called The Colon Club. Here's a little blurb from their website:

The Colon Club was founded in 2003 by Molly McMaster, a colon cancer survivor who was diagnosed on her 23rd birthday, and Hannah Vogler, whose cousin and Molly's friend, Amanda Sherwood Roberts, died of the disease at the age of 27. Our main goal is to educate as many people as possible, as early as possible, about colorectal cancer in interesting and out-of-the-box ways. Our wishes are for people to have "colon talk" in their everyday lives, to know the risk factors and symptoms, and to get screened when it is appropriate for them.

As you may have probably imagined, I have become a member and look forward to learning about the experiences of others in hopes that it will provide me some insight and freedom regarding what's ahead. And naturally, I will share from my own experience when I find reason. I'm really quite happy to find this organization because there goal is to get the word out and make people aware. Nobody needs to go through what I have gone through when a relatively simple exam could allow someone to avoid it all. Thanks Colon Club! Keep up the good work!


I also recently took a look at a website called Raw For Thirty Days as a result of a conversation I had with a gal from the T. Colin Campbell Foundation. She said she met two different people who cured themselves of diabetes by eating raw for thirty days and went on to share the healing benefits it provided folks with other degenerative diseases. I can't imagine it being easy to eat raw for 30 days, but if it provides the benefits the organization boasts of...30 days ain't that long! There is a video on Rawfor30Days.com about six people who take on eating raw for 30 days and their honesty about the diet in the beginning is just hysterical...and beautiful to tell you the truth. And the results they speak of are phenomenal.