Some days. . .

Some Days You Gotta Dance    ------Dixie Chicks Some days you gotta dance  Live it up when you get the chance  'Cause when the world doesn't make no sense  And you're feeling just a little too tense  Gotta loosen up those chains and dance You gotta loosen up those chains and dance  Come on and loosen up those chains and dance. Some days you have   just! got! to! dance! And  today, I am a-dancin'  in my body, mind and soul!!! Whooeee, do I feel great!

Games People Play

Growing up in Montana in the 50's and 60's, and spending summers at my grandparent's ranch, we entertained ourselves "of an evening" with a variety of indoor and outdoor games:  No Bears Are Out Tonight and Kick the Can were really big hits. Since nothing beyond Ed Sullivan and Lawrence Welk graced the tube (yes, one station!), we often found ourselves at the card table playing canasta with our larger than life Grandad who slapped cards down on the table with a great "whop!", predicted in booming, definitive tones that the next card was sure to be HIS winning card, and danced in glee around the table when he won a hand--just like a hugh St. Bernard puppy.


My best childhood friend, Colleen, and I would spend hours at her family's kitchen table playing Gin Rummy.  Col was a shameless card cheat--peeking and stacking the deck and cackling in delight when she won--fairly or unfairly, it was all the same.  I was challenged to thwart her nefarious ways and it all became a game within a game.  We are best buddies to this day, but believe me, I know the meaning of playing my cards "close to the chest"! 


And now, my family will tell you that I am a sicko game player--Scrabble, crosswords, Tabu, cards, puzzles, you name it.  I love to play games.  I can (and have) spent many happy hours waiting at airports, in flight, on car trips, in the chemo cocktail lounge, playing games to pass the time.  My son Michael regularly kicks my butt in Lexulous now-- my daughter Casey prefers to wax me in Spanish Scrabble. I consider it a personal victory that they both play games with their friends and me.


But, ten years ago I discovered Mahjjong and, Sistah, it was all over. Mahjjong (spelled as many ways as it is played) is an ancient Asian game played around the world by Asians, Jewish women, military wives, business networkers and my friends (all of the above).  The game is played with hefty tiles which are used like cards to build winning hands (according to the RULES, Colleen!) and engages all the senses:  the smooth feel of the tiles, the sound of their clicking as they are discarded, the sight of the Asian characters on the tiles, and the smell and taste of the noshes always served during play.  Okay, okay, so food is not part of the game, but it is definitely part of the tradition. 


I introduced Shelby to the game, and true to her nature, she now knows more about Mahj than just about anyone and is on a first name basis with  the experts in the field. There are  cruises and tournaments and neighborhood games--Shelby has done all of them, and won at all of them.  We play regularly with friends and, when desperate, play our own highly irregular two handed version.  We have taught 22 newcomers and secured our own special circle of players (taught correctly, may I say) who have raised both the competitive bar and the laughter quotient! Needless to say, Mahj is an illness all it's own.


And to what use?  Idle entertainment for someone with too much time on her hands?  A waste of time?  Useless pursuit? Or perhaps something else?  For me, the games I play have created close friendships that have translated to a spectacular array of supporters during my fight against cancer.  My game buddies have been here whenever I need them--bringing food, flowers and thoughtful or gag gifts; being available for conversation, transportation, overnight stays when Steve is out of town. Colleen regularly sends me encouraging bundles from Utah where she lives and I receive humorous cards and uplifting stories from the Texas Tiles, a special group of women who Shelby and I taught to play Mahj last February in San Antonio. Michael and his girlfriend and my friend Ruth in Georgia are on line with me regularly playing word games.  All of this has brought me through four months of isolation during chemo in good cheer and entertained without feeling isolated.  As a wise young man recently said to me:  "life without relationships is no life at all."


To celebrate the end of chemo, I had a small paMahja party with pizza, special t-shirts, and plenty of goofiness during the evening here at home with my regular Mahj group.  And several decades later, I can still hear Grandad's booming voice and see his Saint Bernard dance as he looks at my entire group of friends and trumpets:  

NOW THAT'S A WINNER!

Jody, Alice, Judi and Shelby

at the paMAHJa party

Taming Medusa's Snakes

10 PM August 2, 2010.  "Linda, this is Dr. Lilly.  We got your report back and it is cancer." Direct and to the point--delivered gently.  I actually apppreciated that.  No tap dance around the facts.

Generally, when things go kablooey on me, the image of Medusa with her hair full of snakes comes to mind. Not the mythology that goes with her, just those damned snakes circulating through her head!  It is a perfect depiction of me at my most overwhelmed--thoughts, fears, questions, too much information and I can only describe it as "my head is full of snakes".  And that is how I felt for the first several days after diagnosis--too much information!!

Stages. grades, genetics, surgeries, reconstructions, radiation, anti-hormone therapy drugs, implications--well you can choose your own expletive. I had to get my head around a lot of information, quickly, and with available resources provided by my doctor and Steve's research on the net, believe me there was plenty to consider! So, this is about how we tamed the snakes. And if this can help guide or calm someone else, please share it.

In a panic, I called a friend (who had fortuitously materialized as the nurse at my biopsy).  She soothed me and coaxed me back from the edge of the precipice.The jist of Jenny's message to me was:
     Since you do not have all the information back yet,  be careful not to rush to judgment about major decisions
     Remember that this is not a medical emergency and you have time to make an informed decision.

She calmed my fears and gave me time to step back and consider: what can I do to manage all this information? Despite my willy-nilly creative side, I have an analytical mind, when needed, and I decided to revert to my business days and use a decision tree analysis to see where it led me. "If this, then what?" Wow! Did that ever help!

I started with what I knew about my cancer to date: type, stage, pathology then began the tree below: "If this, then what?"  Each step forced me to understand my options and gave me questions to ask various members of my care team.  The chart changes as additional information comes to light and as decisions are made based on that information.

This methodology also prepared me for the free second opinion clinic  at Riverside Hospital staffed by a surgeon, reconstruction surgeon, Medical Oncologist, Radiation Oncologist, pathologist, radiologist, and nurse who spent three hours with my husband and me--reviewing the reports, answering questions, making recommendations.  By the way, they were very impressed with my little tree.  Must be the landscaper in me.  :-)

I will be glad to guide you through your own decision tree if you like--it worked wonders at taming all the snakes in MY head.  Just contact me through comments and we'll talk. And, oh by the way, it was enormously helpful in explaining to my adult children and to family and friends who asked about the options available to me.   Very calming. . . to feel I had control of the information.

So, here's how mine looked.   Hopefully you can read it and hopefully it will help calm your fears.  My offer of help is totally sincere.  If you cannot read it, I can email it to you in PDF form.  Just ask.

Attitude

This little story was forwarded by my niece Suzanne, who helps me maintain my positive attitude and who accomplishes much herself with positivism. I cannot attribute the story because it came off the internet--I can only say I did not write it myself but I embrace its spirit!

Attitude

There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror,
And noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
'Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.'
So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror
And saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
'H-M-M,' she said, 'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.'
So she did and she had a grand day.


The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed
That she had only one hair on her head.
'Well,' she said, 'today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail.'
So she did, and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and
Noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
'YAY!' she exclaimed. 'I don't have to fix my hair today!'


Attitude is everything.

Be kinder than necessary,
For everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly.


Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...
It's about learning to dance in the rain.


It's not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.

I take it all back. . .

Okay, okay, so ya got me.  Chemo IS a bitch.  Losing hair, not so much. 

Chemo has it's own clever little way of manifesting its charm, shall we say, on each individual.  It smiled beguilingly at me at first and seduced me into complacency.  The first three weeks were a breeze except for that hair thing.  I heard about a woman who completed the Hocking Hills Peletonia while on chemo.  Why not?  I am strong and if she can do THAT, a normal "human bean" like me can certainly do, like the normal stuff, you know?  I have no ambitions about a 100 mile bike ride through the hills in late summer, but normal life?  "No prob."

Second round, humm.  Feeling more tired than usual but that is to be expected, I was told.  Those 12 hour nights still feeling good, 3 hour afternoon naps feeling a BIT self indulgent, but what the hey?  Cancelled driving to exercise class and felt  like a wimp for not toughing it out, but in all fairness, I ended up in the ER that night with a zero white blood cell count which ain't good.  So, maybe calling off the aerobics was good judgment on my part?  Nice stay with the nurses,  and then back home.

Third round--Wham Sheezam! Holly mackerel, I really didn't see that coming. In addition to the chemo treatment (which always goes smoothly without the feared physical side effects for which it is reputed), my doctor treated me to a special immunity treatment for slightly more than the cost of a thousand margaritas at happy hour.  "Expect a little achy-ness", they said.  "Tylenol, if you need it." So, again, "no prob", and I won't have to re-visit those 14 doctors in the ER again.  Cost effective prevention, I thought.

Well, my posture was very good for the next four days!  Virtual traction, trapped in my own body, and as straight as though I was strapped to a native American traverse device.  Imagine Arte Johnson on "Laugh In" shuffling along with  his trench coat and cane--

 or riding his trycicle and slowly, so   s l o w l y ,   toppling  over sideways--muttering the entire time.  Or a cardboard cutout of me hovering rigid over a chair to watch a movie.  Put little round soles on the bottom of my shoes, stand me up, have yer fun wiith me tapping my forehead and and watching me go BOING!  BOING!  BOING! back and forth at your touch.  Yep, that was me, folks, and some of the muttering was "not for prime time"!  Well, actuallly most of it. . .

But, darn it, you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone, and flexibility is HIGHLY underrated.  Try sitting without bending your knees.  Try drinking coffee without bending your elbows. Try putting on shoes without bending your waist or your fingers.  Thank goodness straws do bend!  So, take a moment and kvell in those lovely joints:  knees, fingers, elbows, and waist.  Try 'em, use 'em, enjoy 'em.  Appreciate them.   I am bending  once again, and it feels soooooooo good.

This little adventure with chemo is a lesson in appreciation. I was a "straight up" cowgirl for four days, doncha know it. I would have willingly taken the Tylenol for the price of drinking the thousand margaritas if they had told me then what I know now.  I wonder how riding 100 miles on a bike without bending your knees would actually work . . .humm, not so much.

Well, I'd rather concentrate on Margaritaville.  Bottoms up!  Look at that lovely elbow bend!

The world would be a better place . . .

After my adventures in the ER circus, I was put in solitary confinement  for four days while my white blood cells recovered.  Private room with a ominous black ulltraviolet germicidal canister air filter and the door closed at all times.  I was occasionally let out to walk the yard (hall) with a trustee (nurse), and I haunted the halls that Halloween weekend like a spectre in my long white hooded robe and white surgical mask.  Bored, I approached two orderlies with hand extended.   The treat was the shocked expression on their faces when I said "trick or treat" and demanded they hand over candy.  I am entertained by the stupidest things, I swear!

Steve visited daily and the only other person able to storm the Bastille was my steadfast and incorrigable friend, Shelby. We stared at  each other over surgical masks and it felt a little like Mad Magazine's spy vs. spy!  But, because isolated as I was, the nurses and aides took pity on me and came to chat.  (I later began to suspect my room was a nice safe hidey hole for a few minutes respite from their other duties.)

And this brings me to the point of my discussion.  The chats were reveletory.  Matthew--tall, slender, articlate, and elegant aide of African American descent, is raising two young boys, apparently on his own.  He spoke to me about how much he believes in the "Power of the Tongue" when raising children.  I had not heard the phrase before, but I immediately knew what he meant.  He was very passionate about the powerful effect of words on children--the impact of mean words, disapproving words;  and the importance of kind and instructive ones.

Rachel, 23 with impossibly unruly curls and darling freckles, is concerned with raising her 15 month old.  She was raised in a rigid religious home where everything was done on schedule, by the  book, with only time for work and study.  She was not allowed to play with other children!  After  three years at college doing what she had always done (adhere to the rules and the schedule) and working three jobs, she decided to break a rule and have some fun.  Her famly disowned her and would not speak to her for 2  1/2 years. She wants her son to "Know God" but not her parents' version, and said she could see all the havoc wreaked on the world in the name of religion--if your family tuns their back on you because of religion, what hope is there for what they will do to strangers?

Cleo, who had been to South Africa to do good works, commented on the overwhelming feeling of tension, threat. mistrust, and anger that pervades the areas outside the groomed colonial remnants of Cape Town, and are especially palpable in Johannesburg.  She was able to spend time with Moher Theresa's order Siisters of Mercy and was greatly affected by thier humanity. She would like to return and help again with women's health care and especially HIV education, to counteract the shaman's' influence on Aids which is having devestating effects on women, girls and infants.

There were more stories, but this small sampling made me think our world would be a better place for children (and everyone, in the long run) if it were run by the values of oncology nurses: kindness in words to others, acceptance, education, peace, respect for those smaller, weaker, sicker or needier.

But then, if they left to heal the world, who would I have to talk to?  Ah, of course, my husband and that other spy !

Wrap it Up!

My friend Jean Martin gave me permission to print her scarf tricks--basically insurance against the "Jemima effect".  These variations dress up the head with twists and turns.  She recommends soft cotton scarves (light to medium weight)  or scarves that won't slip.  She likes this source:  www.anokhiusa.com/  because the prints are beautiful and not expensive. Of course, any scarf you love is great.  I recommend adding a cap liner for volume availlable at tlc Direct www.tlcdirect.org/ .  Happy Wrapping!

How Low Can You Go?

Nadir:  the lowest point of anything.  (My kids LOVE my habit of pulling out the dusty old dictionary whenever . . . well, whenever!).  So, live it, know it.  I hit the nadir of white blood cell count and had what Steve refers to as a "Chemo Crash", not unlike going into freefall off the Empire State Building. Ended up at the emergency room at 2 AM and was invited to stay for a while at their attached facility=hospital.

In the ER:  Admissions nurse, Physician's assistant, RN, admissions clerk, doctor, doctor, doctor, (at three AM the golf course is too dark to play) doctor, doctor (I am not kidding you), phlebotomist, new RN, doctor: all asking me the very same questions that the previous one had asked.  Don't they chart this stuff?  After a while, I found myself humming "Send in the Clowns".  At person number 12, I have to admit I got a little cheeky and accused them of being as bad as the cops, trying to see if my story stood up under cross examination.  That was the last doctor to visit me in the ER.  Three hours of interrogation, the inevitable poking and prodding and scanning, and only a mere six hours of waiting on one of those comfy gurneys for a room to become available.  Cha ching cha ching cha ching.   Gave me time to think . . .

For the cost of the ER visit alone and not even for the subsequent stay at the Riverside "Recreation Center and Spa", just the ER portion, what COULD I have spent my money on?  I mean, other than feeding a small starving nation or two?

Well, girlfriends, I'd charter  jets to pick you up for a couple of girls' days out in NYC. I'd send the planes for my sisters in Alaska and Montana, my bosom buddy in Salt Lake, my daughter and any of her Hollywood friends plus Jean in California, to Texas for the Texas Tiles and my sisters and Luann (Hidee, y'all), Little Rock, Atlanta, Orlando , all my bestest Ohio friends and mahjaholics; limos from New Jersey for Vicki and Boston for Jenn, about 30 let's say.

We'd stay ay the Ritz and start the new day with breakfast of choice followed by

1. Phyto Universe spa in New York with full treatment:  mani, pedi, massage, hair (or scalp in my case), facial, and mimosas
2. Have a group portrait made by Annie Leibowitz (individual portraits optional)
3. Limousine to Tiffany's for a gift for each guest (her choice)
4. Lunch at SHO for Asian Fusion 
5. Broadway Matinee
6. Diner at Le Bernadin
7. Stopover at Chippendale's (just for a peek)
8. Return to the Ritz for luxurious sleep 
9. Spend the second day "at will" sightseeing, playing mahj, shopping (Sure, what the heck it's on me).

But, if I ever saw that much money, and I mean the ER charges alone, I would, in good conscience have to feed those starving nations.  Sorry, Girlfriends.  Oops. Darn it.  So sorry.  Got your hopes up, then dropped them off the Empire State Building.

Now THAT's what a nadir feels like.

Aunt Jemima's Pancake House and Tapas Bar

Apologies to all handkerchief wearers, but when I tie one around my head,  I just get a hankerin' to flap jacks.  So, you might appreciate the disconnet when I greeted my friends at the door (chemo head tied in a bandana) the evening they came to enjoy Spanish hors d'oeuvers known as "tapas"  Here are some tapas recipes to try

Truth be known, in our house, we only serve one flavor of flap jacks:  Chocolate chip.. 

(Mostly) Healthy Tapas and Small Bites

A tapas table usuallly includes a small plate each of

• Spanish ham (jamon),
• manchego cheese, and
• green manzanilla olives
• plus a crusty bread with olive oil for dipping

Colorful Pinwheels

     Sliced lean turkey

     Sliced swiss cheese

     Fresh guacamole

Place one slice of swiss cheese on a slice of turkey, spread fresh guacamole over cheese, roll up and slice into one-two inch sections for a healthy and colorful pinwheel. 

Spinach and chicken ciabbata

     Slice a ciabatta roll in half lengthwise, drizzle very lightly with olive oil

     Cut fresh spinach and fresh basil leaves into small pieces, toss  together and pile high on ciabatta

     Add a slice of roasted turkey or chicken breast (not deli, but the real thing)

     Top with a sprinkling of white cheddar, gruyere, or mozarella

     Broil until cheese is just warmed

     Slice into finger-food bite sizes.

     Serve with fresh sliced apples or pears

A selection of open faced melted cheese sandwiches from Martha Stewart Living

     Use a single thin slice of whole grain bread and thin sliced high quality/high flavor cheese to get the most impact for fewer calories than a normal grilled cheese. 

     Broil the sandwich lightly to melt the cheese.

     Slice into finger-food bite sizes

1. Rye bread, thin sliced apples, fresh or ground sage, Gruyere cheese
2. Rye bread, sliced red or sweet onion, prosciutto, Gruyere cheese and fresh ground black pepper
3. Rye bread, spicy chutney, sliced pear, and fontina cheese
4. Sourdough, Dijon mustard, sliced tomatoes, avocado and fresh ground black pepper (add one slice of crumbled cooked bacon if desired)
5. Whole grain white bread, cherry preserves, sharp white cheddar and fresh basil
6. Rye bread, water packed tuna, pickle relish, fontina cheese

Herb Roasted Potatoes

     Scrub Yukon Gold Potatoes until clean.  Cut into large bite size pieces.

     Arrange on cookie sheet, in one layer.

     Spray lightly with olive oil cooking spray.

     Sprinkle with fresh herbs:  rosemary, thyme, crushed garlic or a mixture of dried ehrbs of choice

     Bake until just soft enough to pick up with a fork, but still crunchy

Gambas al ajillo (Prawns in Garlic)

     Whole uncooked prawns, washed and peeled

      Olive oil

     5 crushed garlic cloves

     4 small pieces of red chilli pepper

Pour 12 tablespoons of oil into a ftying pan with chopped garlic and red pepper until garlic is soft, not browned.  Add prawns and cook, stirring until the prawns  turn pink.  Serve very hot.

Maria and Terry's Irresistable Margarita Cake

    

.

Ingredients:

     Margarita mix from Williams & Sonoma

     Yellow Cake mix (I used Betty Crocker’s Super Moist)

     Mix cake following package directions. Substitute the margarita mix for the water.                     

     Bake as directed. Cool.  Frost with icing.

Icing:

     1 cup powdered sugar

     ½ teaspoon vanilla

     1 tablespoon butter, softened

     3-4 tablespoons lemon juice

     ½ teaspoon grated lemon rind

Combine powdered sugar, vanilla, butter, lemon juice, and lemon rind until mixture has consistency of a glaze. Spread over cake.

Garnish with fresh lime slice twist.

:

Good eating!

Love, Jemima

E.T., Phone Home!

I will admit I am THE WORST when it comes to knowing what small touches are meaningful when someone else needs comfort during difficult times.  I find myself tied up in knots--Should I do this, should I do that?  Will I disturb them if I call?  Will I catch them at a bad time? What would they like me to do for them?  Do they want to talk about their situation or do they not want to talk about it?   Is there a mitsvah I can do?  Having prided myself on being strong all these years, I have developed a serious Achilles heel of a social order: empathetic inertia.

But in talking to friends about this, I fnd I am not alone.  There's my friend in the medical field who deals with cancer patients daily and feels stymmied when it effects personal friends, or a girlfriend who emphaticallly declared her own discomfort, or the someone who comes to visit and does not feel comfortable asking "How's it going?".  Maybe you are as uncomfortable as me with navigating this particular universe?

So, what have I learned from the other side? Being on the receiving end?  Normalcy is real important.  On any given day a chemo patient may be exhausted, ill, sad, OR full of energy and feeling strong.  These are things I have found immensely precious and I offer them, not as advice on interacting with me, but as general guidance and ideas for YOUR comfort when a friend is in need.

First and foremost, do not ever visit a chemo patient if you have ANY symptoms of infection or viruses.  Err on the conservative side.  Think it is only a little allergy?  Postpone the visit and choose another nice thing to do. . .

• make a simple phone call to talk about what's positive or fun in your life:  Kathryn just passed the bar exam!  The neighbors sold their house!  Pamela has a new puppy and Vickitoria got a kitten! Make 'em laugh.  Tell funny stories about the kids or the dog or whatever.
• send funny cards, encouraging cards
• offer to run an errand:  the post office, dry cleaners, grocery or department store when you are going anyway yourself
• text message in the middle of the day
• deliver fresh picked apples ot tomatoes or zucchini
• send chemo-posts with recipes for eating well, having fun, indulging oneself on chemo days
• take your friend for a walk if they are up to it
• bring chocolates
• offer to play their favorite game or do a puzzle together 
• bring a book or movie that makes you laugh
• bring music
• bring freshly cooked healthy foods
• sit quetly and read or talk
• offer to:
• mow their lawn or weed the beds
• experiment with  make up application or scarf tying, if that is your talent
• wash their car
• sweep the walk or the kitchen floor
• water their plants
• walk the dog
• stay overnight if they are alone
• drive them to the doc or chemo or wherever they need to be
• let them do something for YOU if they want to

It's very tempting to rely on email and to support from afar.  I love getting emails.  But there is nothing quite like the human touch, the human voice, the face to face with a friend.  I'd love to have your comment(s) on things not on my list that you like to do for others, or things people have done for you that you liked.

So, even if you can't be there, 

E. T., Please Phone Home!

A nap by any other name is a siesta! Ole!

One of the side effects of chemo for me has been "fatigue", although in truth I would describe it as an Uber-siesta.  (Is that even legal?  "Uber-siesta?)  Twelve blissful hours of uninterrupted sleep under moonlit skies or lulled by the autumn winds or falling rain outside my open window.  It is heaven.  Heaven! 

Now I find I am actually preparing for a new WORLD CLASS competition, and frankly, Senores Senior Snorers, you ain't got nuttin' on me.

Steve sent me this link http://news.discovery.com/human/spain-siesta-championship.html#mkcpgn=rssnws1
thinking HE was a shoe-in as next year's "Nap champ".  Do I have news for him! 

Read the excerpt from the article to find out about where you might find the two of us duking it out for the prize money. 

"What is billed as Spain's first national siesta championship is underway in Madrid to find the best napper and help revive the tradition of taking a snooze after lunch.
Participants are monitored as they lie on bright blue sofas in the middle of a shopping mall for a 20-minute nap. Some wear pajamas; others sport eye masks or cover their faces with their jackets.
They have pulse monitors attached to their bodies and the maximum of 20,000 points is awarded to those who manage to sleep for the full 20 minutes.
Sleeping fewer minutes means fewer points but judges also award marks for original sleeping positions, the loudest snore and the most eye-catching outfits.
The competition, organized by the National Association of Friends of the Siesta, began on October 14 and will wrap up on Saturday with the winner awarded a prize of 1,000 euros ($1,400).
"The mission of the championship is to spread the idea that the nap is something of ours that must be defended and practiced, because it is healthy and good for everyone," the association says on its website. "Being able to do it in public requires having a spirit of a champion and to be a great siesta taker."
Eight rounds of the competition are held daily with each involving five participants on sofas lined up in parallel lanes like those of a track and field meet.
"We were afraid that people would be afraid of making fools of themselves but on average about 50 people have taken part each day," the association's spokesman, Alvaro Vidal, told AFP.
Given the success of the siesta contest, the association is planning to repeat the event in the future and hold editions outside of Spain, he added."

BAH!  I LAUGH AT YOUR PUNY 20 MINUTES!  BRING ON THE REAL NAPPERS!  BROUHAHAHAHAHA!

20 MINUTES INDEED!

"Bless your little pointed head," my Aunt Liz used to say. How DID she know?

These people are looking all too much like my mirror image!

A plethora of head coverings arrived yesterday via mail order.  Fedoras, cloches, berets--and funny little fake fringes of hair to go underneath.  Had my wig restyled to bring it down to size but I still look like a former governor of Texas. (No, NOT "dubya"!) 

Our cultural norms of beauty (or just basically looking fairly normal) are really noticeable from this side of the street, very interesting and somewhat both oppressive and liberating at the same time.

I can be fully dressed these days and yet feel naked.
Children and teens' sideways and wary looks reflect the truth of our society's discomfort with "different" just through the clear filter of youth before it learns to be "discrete".  But the truth is still refreshing to see in young eyes even if it is not what I might want to BE the truth.

My sympathy grows for the displaced, the disrespected, the different and the devalued:  reminding me of a Joan Baez song that touched me when I first heard it years ago.  It's not only about the old--it's about those who feel "outside" because of their circumstances:  age, illness, race, accent, disfigurements, size, intelligence, physical or mental restrictions, and personal choices of lifestyle :

Ya' know that old trees just grow stronger,
And old rivers grow wilder ev'ry day.
Old people they just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say, "Hello in there, hello."

So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes,
Please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say, "Hello in there, hello,"
Say, "Hello in there, hello."

Having lived and traveled fairly extensively in South America, Mexico, Panama, Europe and Eastern Europe, I learned that a smile and learning just two words in their language bridged a lot of gaps:  "Please" and "thank you."  But in the absence of those two words, the sincere smile still opens hearts and opens doors.

So, I'm going to smile, make eye contact and say "Hello in there, hello"  to someone unlike me and perhaps I'll open a heart.. How about you?

  "Bless your little pointed head,"  

Chemo soothing

Chemo can mess with your digestion.  Two natural remedies are ginger tea for nausea and yogurt with live cultures for diarrhea. Both are staples in my home to stabilize my gastrointestinal system.

Neice Jenn, who is a health guru, sent this recipe for a yummy smoothie to sooth the soul and the stomach.


Pina Colada "Soothie"
Time to bring the tropics right to your home! A quick and easy smoothie for when lunch or dinner just doesn't fit the belly well:

1 banana

1 handful of frozen mango OR pineapple

1/4 cup of vanilla yogurt or plain yogurt of choice (greek is incredible!)

2-3 spoonfuls of coconut if you enjoy the flavor

(I add unflavored Juven http://juven.com/ for additional tissue rebuilding and healing during chemo and will during radiation., and a little orange juice to make it more liquid.)

Ice

Blend away!

Another soothie I make is:

1 Dark Chocolate Ensure (refrigerated)--there are other flavors available

1 Banana

Teaspoon of chocolat malt Ovaltine

Crushed Ice

Blend

One reason why a chemo brazilian bikini is better than a brazilian bikini WAX

This was emailed to me by friend Leah and if laughter can cure cancer, I AM CURED! Definitely not for the squeamish.

 Hair removal 101…
__________________________________________________
All hair removal methods have tricked us with their promises of easy, painless removal - The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now…the wax.
My night began as any other normal weekday night. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: Maybe I should pull the wax out of the medicine cabinet.


The rest of this made me laugh til I cried but you have to speciifically ask for it to be emailed to you  (to protect the innocent)……

Images Images everywhere!

And a resounding plea from chemo patients!

Where did The Economist find my picture?? When I showed it to Steve, he said sweetly:
I'm afraid there's more hair there than on your head.
And dammit, he's right!

Hair Loss

Chemotherapy is not a bitch.  But for us women, losing our hair, no matter how pitiful ours is, IS a bitch.  Right on schedule--15 days after my first chemo treatment it came out with a vengence.  First the tingling and the itching, then the odd strands on my neck, then BOOM!

But growing up in the sixties and seventies, it is interesting to see how prophetic our songwriters were!

Riding with the top down in my convertible brought to mind "Up Up and Away"
Finding handful IN MY HANDS as I showered:  "I'm going to wash that gray, Uhh Hair, right out of my hair"
Looking at the receding hairline:  "You don't know what you've got til it's gone"
Or the classical lyrics from, oh yes, you know:

Give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen
Give me down to there, hair, shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there, momma, everywhere, daddy, daddy
Hair, flow it, show it
Long as God can grow, my hair
Let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees
Give a home to the fleas, in my hair
A home for fleas, a hive for the buzzing bees
A nest for birds, there ain't no words
For the beauty, splendor, the wonder of my hair
Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow, my hair
I want long, straight, curly, fuzzy, snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty
Oily, greasy, fleecy, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen
Knotted, polka dotted, twisted, beaded, braided
Powered, flowered and confettied
Bangled, tangled, spangled and spahettied
Oh say, can you see my eyes if you can
Then my hair's too short

Or as my BFF Colleen so emphatically put it:

My hair like Jesus wore it, Halleluia I adore it

So, what did I do?  I immediately buzzed the sucker , accompanied by my adorable husband and my friend Shelby's husband who had their heads buzzed in support. (They both said they needed haircuts, but frankly girls, their hair was shorter BEFORE we got buzzed than mine was after buzz.)  It was a sweet show of support that warmed my heart, and we had a lot of laughs along the way.

Gee, I just could not get ONE of my girlfriends to shave THEIR heads in support but Jean in her enthusiasm DID offer.   I gave her a "bye" on it and she very quickly accepted with heartfelt enthusiam--humm--maybe a little TOO much enthusaism?!?  But all those other girlfriends are bringing delicious meals and desserts and fresh apples and so they get a "bye" too.

Discoveries?

People are very kind

The litte prickly hairs left after the buzz hold your hat on very securely.

The kids in school were right when they called me an "egghead"--I have a perfect egg shaped head!

I rediscovered how small my ears are.

Big earrings are fun!

I have an unobstructed view of where my face could benefit from a nip and a tuck in time.

Makeup takes more time and care.

Lizette offers eyebrow stencils for when yours go toodle do. (Thank you, Shelby)

Frameless glasses work well with hats (Thank you, Shelby)

A plain ole fedora stolen from my daughter Casey's closet, when embellished with a beaded leather strap as a headband, is way cool

Lots of cute hats, hair halos, bangs and much more at http://www.tlcdirect.org/

Get great hats at Nordstrom shop.nordstrom.com/      

(Thank you, again, Shelby).

Chemo chicks offers henna head stencils for something really different--they say "for the brave"  (Thanks, Helene)  http://www.chemochicks.com/

I don''t mind being bald (MOST SHOCKING)

I feel colder now, but imagine the benefits of managing hot flashes when I start antihormone therapy--with all that heat escaping from my head, I can be a human match!

Brazilian bikini wax for no extra charge, no wax, no pain, full privacy in your own home, lasts six months

No waxing or shaving your legs for six months

No $50 haircuts and $100 colors for 6 months

But I am tempted to spend that on hats--a nice faux fur cossack hat for winter that looks like sable

So, I've got the GI Jane Haircut (or as I said to my MedOnc today "You give one hell of a haircut")

Now I have to get to work on the bod1

    

First steps

I started my battle with cancer in August 2010 with a diagnosis of stage 2 breast cancer.  With a family history it was not a surprise but it was nontheless a blow.  Sheer terror, overwhelming information, facing my own mortality, panic, telliing my husband, children, family, friends.  Jeezopeezo!  I have relearned old words with new signifance:  hope, friendship, support, kindness, information but most of all, the power of a loving husband and two adult children! 

Important to me as well, I have discovered my own inner humor is a powerful tool for combating the fear that swells up, the tears that well up, the anxiety that attacks before certain events--you get the picture.  So I'd like to share some of the fun along the way and incidentally some ideas about appearance, eating, exercise, and staying alive while fighting for my life.

I promise a positive tone, some attempts at humor, researched information, useful links, all I can possibly share.  I ask of you a positive tone , humor referring ONLY about yourself, and informed contributions.  So, I begin, somewhere along the road. . .