Oncologist visit-it's all good

Every survivor knows the butterflies that occur in the days and nights leading up to the quarterly then semi-annual and later annual visits with the oncologist. The what-ifs and the listing of abnormalities that precede the appointment. I knew that I must be coming on to good news, as I really feel great despite the phenomenal stress that I'm under at the moment. But it was elating to hear Dr. M say, "You look great; you've lost weight" and "Perfect blood work", and to congratulate me for being wise enough to implement her most important survival advice, "Three hours of sweaty exercise a week", by going in to work early each day and pounding it out on the stationary bike. "You work in a fitness center; you have no excuse!" she told me when I whined about it at the previous visit. She also said that my recent loss of the need to nap frequently could be attributed to those morning rides. But then she told me something I didn't expect, that as a participant in a clinical trial, one that has now been unblinded and for which I know I was not a recipient of the experimental drug, I will need to have follow up visits every 3 months, despite also showing a continued relationship with Ned (No Evidence of Disease). I have to admit as she was apologizing for the disruption this will cause, I found myself feeling pleased with the news. I hope the pre-visit trepidation I experienced this time will decrease as time goes on with future sessions, but I like getting to see the doc frequently.

Wow....

written late at night 4/28/12-I couldn't get it to publish, I don't know why, and it's been gone when I've looked for it her over the past couple of months, but here it is again...funny....



The past few months have been a whirlwind. Moving Mom here from California in October, trying to get her hooked up into the Vanderbilt medical system as I know it is the best and she has had such fragmented care in CA. I thought I had time, I thought the surgery to revise her ventriculo-peritoneal shunt on Thursday was the right thing to do and although I know that ALL surgery holds the risk of death, she seemed so vital, so tenacious, that I never even pondered that she would die of this experience. She seemed appropriately groggy after the surgery, a little less oriented the next day but I really never even thought that this could be her end. Ah Mommy....you always kept me on my toes. You gave me gifts that I love about myself and you allowed me to see shining examples of what and who I do and do not wish to be. I am in shock. I miss my mother, but I have been missing her for months now...missing the phone calls that used to be sure to irritate me. Missing the over-identification with my life and the over-enthusiasm for my activities that freaked me out. Her insatiable desire to surround herself with the things she loved even as she become more and more isolated from people. I have given a large portion of myself to trying to champion her needs and on attempting to intervene in situations that so frequently left her in need of assistance, unable to help herself out of a tight spot. Heck, I'm sure that's something that can happen to anyone but it started happening to me when I was a little kid and there was no other adult in the house so I felt it my duty to try to grow up fast. I've never been able to shake it. And now, I will have to reinvent myself as a girl who does not have an ill mother who is also a force of nature, a creative dervish and a magnetic spirit. I'm on my own now as far as that goes. Lucky to still have my other mother to comfort me, my father to counsel and console me. My sister to share my grief, my dear husband to shepherd me and commiserate. My friends to gather round me. I'm a sad and lucky girl in mourning for Charmaine. 1/21/38-4/28/12.

Last Friday

I am writing practically nonstop these days, but obviously not much of it here. I have so many projects on my plate-too many! I'm managing to stay fairly calm behind all of it, and remind myself of the need for inner peace every day. Forgoing yoga at the moment to avoid public emotional evisceration, I have found a wonderful QiGong/Tai Chi class at the local YMCA, taught by an acupuncturist who discusses the traditional Chinese Medicine aspects of our activities during the exercises; right up my alley! That will help me on the way to becoming ready to return to yoga, and I hope I will continue with both.

Last Friday was a very nice day, hectic but rewarding at work and then I met up for dinner with a fascinating woman I met at a breast cancer support group. I don't do much of that support group thing, but this one, for the ABC program which stands for After Breast Cancer at the YMCA is one that I support in my work and I have been the beneficiary of for its free personal training and nutritional counseling, and the meeting that I attended when I met my new friend was "spa night" and well worth going. The best part though was S. who is a woman in the middle of her journey through treatment, a physician herself, beautiful, fit, smart, and with basically the very same diagnosis as I had. Triple negative, early stage, left sided. So much in common although so far apart culturally. She a Caribbean, I a California Jew. It was gratifying to me to have some opportunity to offer some experience, to hopefully smooth some of the challenges facing my new friend. It's amazing how soothing it is to be able to, from time to time, offer someone a tip that makes their experience just a tiny bit easier. And when it's a person that you really want to get to know, it's that much better. It didn't even occur to me to suggest that she might want to read this blog, but I will next time I talk to her. That was the impetus for starting this anyway, the idea that someone sometime might have a similar path to walk and need a bit of a road map. I wish I could have found one when I was initially facing my health challenges. 

Later on Friday night, we went to a birthday party at the home of a friend who travels so much that we never get to see her. Lots of our old pals were in attendance, and it was amazing to meet up with the crew, and sadly unsurprising to hear of many newly diagnosed cancer survivors among them, and to hear of those who have not made it while we have been busy working on our own survival. Every day another miracle; waking up is one.

Yoga for the soul-I need a break

I've been absent lately as I have been processing both emotionally and business-wise my mother's death. Having held her hand as she left her body, I feel a strange peace about the dying process, but a profound sense of loss that encompasses my life totally; grief for lost loved ones, for lost body-parts, career and life focus, ambition....a laundry list of loss. And I thought the loss of time to practice and attend yoga class was one of those griefs, but I find now that every time I try to go, I end up feeling as if I've been cracked open like a soft-boiled egg and my insides are slowly sliding out, tears flowing, sobs unable to be contained. It's embarassing and then also draining and interferes with further plans for the day. Today it was crushing; I could barely drive home for the sobs wracking me after the class. And I realized that I have to stop. I need to refocus, try a different approach to mental and physical fitness, at least for now. I feel such a weight of responsibility this summer, with my financial commitments to my mother's estate, my own home finances, my upcoming presentation at the conference I will attend in early September...I will wait until after that to return to yoga classes. And I'll hope that approach will reset the feedback loop and I'll be able to have a new response. Because I don't want my yoga practice to be another loss to grieve.