Thanks for all the feedback, the thoughtful comments and emails. I'm beginning to think maybe I can survive one more round. It will be hell, but I'll be well supported.
If this chemo cocktail is what it takes to stay alive, I don't think it's a stretch to suppose that by reaching out to me you are contributing to saving my life. I'm not on board with both feet quite yet. In fact, I left a message for my oncologist tonight. But you are helping me face it. Did you ever think you could save a life with an email or a blog comment? Well, maybe you can.
Yesterday, my family went to our local co-op's 31st birthday celebration. Thirty-one cakes were contributed to the festivities, free samples everywhere, all the store's stock was on sale, and local musicians provided entertainment. It was nice to see friends and community members, to receive caring attention, to celebrate our thriving food cooperative, a rare thing these days, and to enjoy the music. I filmed a song by the folk band The Electric Trains and am uploading it now to share with you.
In the meantime, seven random things:
1. I discovered in the last 24 hours that both ketchup and hummus taste scorchingly toxicistically spicy. I know, those are not words. But I thought french fries and ketchup were going to be my standby comfort foods. I thought hummus would always be my friend. No such luck. I think I'm entitled to make up a few new words.
2. I have patches of stubble on my head. Today even that is falling out. I'm trying to think of it as a good thing: chemo is doing it's job, killing the rapidly dividing cells.
3. My breakfast this morning: buckwheat pancakes, maple syrup, almond butter, raspberries, cranberries, and plain soy yogurt. (I know with estrogen-sensitive cancer, I'm not supposed eat soy, but it's one of the few things that tastes like it should. And dairy just doesn't digest right, even in the best of circumstances.)
4. J's snack this afternoon. It was sitting there, minding it's own business and looking pretty, so I photographed it: apple, dates, almonds, peanuts, and a cup of soy milk.
5. Tomorrow I'm commuting to a far away to pool because my local one is still closed. It's been too long.
6. I survived a college tour today on behalf of my stepson who really really wanted me to come. (He's a junior already. Where does the time go?) I was dreading it, unsure I had the stamina, but I did and it's done. Phew.
7. As usual, Millie is too cute.
5 comments:
Glad you have turned a corner for the next round. You do a great job describing the indescribable.
And Millie is the. Cutest. Dog. Ever.
You can do this! When at your cancer center next time, look around and you will not feel alone in this fight. You are all fighting together, just in different, unique,exceptional ways. You will do this!
I read out the ingredients in your soup to my husband and we both agreed that we aren't sure what some of that stuff is. But whatever works for you!!
And I agree that J~'s snack looks beautiful.
As does Millie.
And your hat looks toasty. And you look happier.
You can do this.
Carrie
I was actually on flickr and came upon your comment on a woman's flickr page (the lady on the beach that had her mastectomy done)
By your comment I realized that you and I are going through the same thing... and we're both young.
So I popped over to have a read. You are ahead of me, I just finished my mastectomy 2 weeks ago, and will be beginning chemo in March. I am scared.
reading about your food tastes, reminds me that I better enjoy my food now while I still think it tastes good. :)
Michelle
Thank you for your honesty. You are a bit ahead of me: my third adriamycin/cytoxan infusion is Friday. I understand completely what you are going through; just as you understand my plight.
Hang in there. One infusion at a time . . .
Much light and good wishes to you from Lisa P. in NC
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