Just Say...Yes?

This week I'll be starting IPT again. This is the low-dose chemo-cocktail that wrought havoc on my white blood cell count and was put on hold for the last two weeks.

My initial reaction was hesitation and fear. I've been feeling so good lately that I hate the idea of going back on the drugs. I hate the idea of doing something I know my body reacts poorly to.

But if I'm really being honest?

Honestly, what I really hate most is the idea of losing what little hair I have left.

How vain is that? And what a stupid fucking reason not to do something. Seriously, this stuff has proven to kill cancer cells—my cancer cells. After all, that is the reason I'm here -- not to win some beauty contest.

Do I worry about the idea of consistently having a low white blood count, putting me at risk for infection from the mere cough of a stranger? Of course. Am I thrilled about the idea of IPT repeatedly compromising my bone marrow? Of course not.

But no one said the journey to cure cancer comes without compromises.

Look, as long as I losing Little Hodgy, then great.

If it means I must lose my hair, then that's one compromise I'm willing to make.

March 16th or Bust

Today marks the date of my original departure.

When I first found out that the doctors wanted me to prolong my stay, I didn't handle it well. I was angry. I cried. I even doubted my decision to come here. But once I stopped being a total drama queen, I realized staying longer was the right decision.

Two weeks ago, I stopped doing IPT. Apparently my body does not react well to chemotherapy, even in small doses. My white blood count was consistently low, my bone marrow was being compromised, and as I mentioned before, my hair was (and still is) falling out by the handful.

In order to increase my white blood count, I was regularly receiving neupogen shots -- a solution that in itself is dangerous and can lead to leukemia if given too often.

I was sick and exhausted and my body was spending all its energy reacting to the chemo and not fighting the cancer. Having a healthy immune system is kind of a crucial component in kicking cancer's ass.

I was nervous going off IPT. Would I still make progress? Would the other therapies be strong enough? And most importantly -- how much longer would that keep me here??

I was assured that IPT wasn't necessary; that the other therapies were just as powerful in killing the cancer cells. In fact, Sodium Selenite, in addition to Vitamin C, might just be the future killer of cancer.

I was also told that staying a couple extra weeks could mean me leaving without a tumor in tow.

Sorry Little Hodgy, but there's just no room for you in my suitcase!

So as much as I wish I was on a plane headed home right now, I've decided to give myself three more weeks to get rid of LIttle Hodgy for good. And on the off chance that Little Hodgy needs some more ass whipping, I've found a doctor near my home that does both IPT and Vitamin C IVs where I'll continue my treatment.

Mark your calendars everyone, I'm coming home. March 16th I'll finally be boarding that plane -- but this time, hopefully short one tumor.

Letting it Go

This year for Lent, I am giving up Cancer.

40 Days and 40 Nights: Photo Montage (Part 2)

edge of the grand canyon

momma bear and me at the canyon

sunset over the canyon

blizzard at the canyon

wagon wheel

viewfinder

clouds

that's the grand canyon in the background...

dreams

navajo reservation

before the blizzard

raw/vegan pad thai

our first shot dehydrating! those are blueberries, sweet potato chips, and kale chips

homemade raw/vegan lasagna

40 Days and 40 Nights: Photo Montage (Part 1)

I love pictures partly because you get to see what the photographer chooses what to capture in each photo. Look in most picture albums and it is the joyous occasions that are captured. People capture the events they want to remember. These photos are no different. To be honest, these photos probably represent about 3 of the 40 days I've spent in Arizona. I could have captured a more "real" portrayal of my experience, but who wants to see pictures of IV poles, blood, and needles? Besides, I'd rather not remember those.

a rare day of sunbathing

boots

balloons

yeehaw!

raw/vegan quiche

desert sunset

chemo (that's ice on my head and hands)

healing in progress

sedona

representing the 313 in sedona

ghost town

sunset in sedona

route 66

wild west

grand canyon

 

 

 

wheatgrass

I Am Not My Hair

You know what fucking sucks? Losing your hair.

We all knew this was a possibility. With conventional chemo, it was basically a guarantee. But one of the perks of doing an alternative treatment and low dose chemo was that I was supposed to keep my hair. In fact, the other week the nurse told me that in the three years she's worked there, she's never seen anyone lose all their hair. Well if I end up bald, at least I'll leave knowing I was the very first person to ever lose their hair doing alternative treatment. Go me…

I don't mean to dwell on the loss of my hair. It's just hair.

But it really does suck. Not just the losing of the hair, but the process of losing the hair. For the last week, I would wake up every day to more hair on my pillow. I would run my fingers through my hair and find a fistful of it in my hand. And don't even get me started about the shower. What used to be an enjoyable escape of dancing to Motown while I lathered, is now filled with dread and stress; the hair in the drain a constant reminder that I in fact, do have cancer.

I'm forced to wear my hair pulled back every day, otherwise I'll leave "pieces of [me] everywhere I go" as Momma Bear so delicately put it. Thanks Momma, but I'd rather my dead hair not be the mark I leave on this world. I was hoping to leave a more meaningful mark.

How much hair does one lose before pulling out the razor and shaving it? When it becomes painfully obvious? When bald spots start to occur? It's a delicate balance between holding on to hope that maybe I won't lose it all and just pulling the fucking trigger so I can stop eating hair in my meals.

With each individual strand being yet another reminder that i have cancer, it would almost be easier to shave it now. Even on days when I feel great and have fleeting forgetful moments of what I'm doing in Arizona, a clump of hair is a rude snap back to reality. But until I start seeing major bald spots, I will resist the razor.

But the worst part? Worse than actually losing the hair? Is the disappointment I feel over being disappointed. It's just hair. It will grow back. I HAVE CANCER. Get the fuck over the hair and move on. Stressing about it will do nothing but make it fall out faster.

Besides, if Demi Moore and Natalie Portman can both rock the bald head and look sexy, so can I.

And as the great India.Arie says: I Am Not My Hair.

A World Without Coffee

When I committed to an alternative route, I committed to the process 100%. I'd receive all the treatments, I'd take the supplements, I'd explore the mind/body connection, and I'd follow a raw/vegan diet. When I committed to these things, I also committed to giving up coffee.

I was never one of those people who needed coffee in the morning to get me through the day. In fact, I didn't start drinking coffee until I received a Kerig one-cup coffee maker as a wedding gift. This was probably The Hubby's favorite (and most used) gift and turned me on to the joy of coffee. It is also because of this machine that I still don't really know how to make a real pot of coffee.

Once we received this wonder machine, coffee became a morning ritual between The Hubby and I. Before getting ready for the day, we'd top off our mugs, filling our loft with it's delicious aroma. Just like a Folgers commercial, I would literally wake up to the smell of The Hubby's brew. Coffee was our companion on our daily walks with Puppy. And we'd spend Sunday mornings sipping and sharing articles we'd read in the New York Times (okay, sometimes Vogue…). He drank his black, mine was creamy and sweet.

Coffee wasn't just about joint experiences with The Hubby. One of my favorite things to do in the afternoon when I needed a break from work would be to pour myself an extra hot cup of coffee (or a latte if I was feeling fancy) and catch up on my fashion blogs. In a day that was completely consumed by work, it felt indulgent and totally selfish. It was my own ritual where I would take time for two things I truly enjoyed: coffee and blogs.

via

For me, coffee has always been about the ritual and the experience that comes with drinking it. Some people go through withdrawal giving up coffee. They experience headaches and fatigue. My withdrawal was an emotional one - I hated the idea of losing a part of a routine I had grown to love. The process, the smell, the warmth. I knew if I was going to commit 100% to this new lifestyle, then I had to find a substitute.

I spent my first couple weeks in Arizona silently mourning the loss of my coffee routine (This was of course made harder by the lack of The Hubby and Puppy- two critical pieces). I bought enough flavors of tea to last a year, hopping to find one that would satisfy my desire. They all came up short. I tried homemade chai tea lattes with almond milk but they required too much work and I never seemed to be able to get the same outcome twice.

I actually like tea. Sometimes I even love tea. But for me, tea is a part of a different routine. It helps relax me at the end of the day. It's great in bed with a good book before I fall asleep. It's soothing. Actually, maybe it's wine that I'm thinking of…

To me, tea is not energizing. It lacks a boldness, as well as the rich creaminess, of a cup of coffee. I needed something stronger.

And then, finally, I found it. It wasn't easy. It required hours of research and trolling of internet forums. But I found my coffee substitute.

Teeccino Herbal Coffee.

Caffeine free and full of antioxidants, this non-acidic drink is made out of chicory root, carob, fruit, dates, and other natural ingredients. Honestly, it sounded pretty terrible and not like a worthy substitute. But after one cup (and weeks of searching), I knew I had a winner.

It comes in flavors like Almond Amaretto and French Roast and is packaged just like coffee. It can be made in a coffee pot, or my personal favorite, a french press. So fantastically fancy.

Does it taste exactly like coffee? Don't ask me, it's been 5 weeks since I've had any and I was never a purist with my cup of joe. But does it give me a similar experience? Yes. And just like I diluted my coffee with milk and sugar, I'll continue to dilute my teccinno with almond milk and honey, giving it the perfect sweet, creamy texture I crave. I even found a blog with latte and frapuccino recipes made out of Teeccino!

With Cancer, it's all about celebrating the small daily victories and this, my friends, is one of them.

Drinking a cup while writing this post actually made me feel as if I had a piece of my old routine back. Now if only I could get The Hubby and Puppy back too…