Done with Chemo!

I am now working on my comeback, having had my last chemo on the 14th. My oncologist decided to go for the middle way, between skipping it entirely and going for the full-on cycle. I had just IV Taxol and Carbo (a friendlier cousin of Cisplatin) in a 4-hour infusion at the doctor's office.
I am scheduled to get a CT scan in mid-September and to get a checkup in early October, when I expect to be officially declared in remission - or "NED" (prounounced "en - ee - dee," not like the guy's name and which is short for no evidence of disease).
Already I have more energy, even though the last bit of my Festival cold is still hanging on. Not energy like you would think of it - I still take a long nap in the afternoon as well as a long sleep at night - but more than I've had in months.
I continue to be grateful for your prayers and support - they make all the difference.

I'm Going to Festival !

If everything continues to go well, I'll be at Summer Festival July 30- August 5. I can't believe it! I first seriously considered the possibility on Sunday, after I'd had some energy for a few days. After consulting with my oncologist on Wednesday, I booked a flight - the same flight that a handful of Seattle Sangha are on, so they'll be able to look after me. I couldn't do it alone. What are the chances at this late day of that itinerary still being available, and at a reasonable price too? This morning I got confirmation that I have a place to stay at a cottage north of Ulverston with some other Festival-goers. I see Dorje Shugden's hand in all of this - ordinary life does not work out like this.
Hope all of you who are at Festival this week enjoy the empowerment, the teachings and the retreat. Please take good notes : )

Finally, an Update: Doing Very Well

Hello! I'm back. Sorry for the long break from blogging. I've been living my life, trying to catch up with my life and resting from my life.
My doctors say I'm doing very well. Tuesday I saw my naturopath and Wednesday I saw my oncologist. Both think I'm doing really well. In fact, my oncologist thinks that if they did a CT scan today, it would be clear. Which means that because he didn't find anything in my physical exam and because of my low CA-125, I'm most likely in remission already. That tumor marker dropped again, to 11.2, which is great news.
I think these last 2 rounds of chemo are like insurance. He even suggested I could skip the 6th round, because I may have reached the maximum benefit already and the chemo has some detrimental effects. The actual CT scan is scheduled for early September, and when I see my oncologist to talk about post-chemo plans September 4th.
Yesterday and today I'm in the hospital for my regularly scheduled chemo - the beginning of round 5. I also have my usual view of the city and Elliott Bay, the port, freighters, ferries and pleasure boats. Rebecca stopped by to visit. I'm not sure how she found the time, because she's one of the few people who's "holding down the fort" while everyone else is at Summer Festival. (Fortunately she got to go to Spring Festival.)

Good News

My CA-125 (tumor marker) dropped again - to 14.7, which by some standards is considered within the normal range. This is very good news. The chemo is working. My oncologist wants to see it drop further, to below 10 or even to 0 (if he could, I'm sure he'd even drive it below 0). As I understand it, they'll want me to have the full 6 courses of chemo no matter what that marker does.
Thursday and Friday I got chemo in the hospital. It was just like the last time - I felt perfectly comfortable during the infusions but wiped out when I got home. I rested all weekend and will rest again after I finish typing this.

Pray for Malaya

Please pray for Malaya, a nun at KMC New Mexico in Albuquerque, who is close to dying from ovarian cancer. (You may know her as "Nan," which was her lay name until she ordained a couple of years ago.) She was the long-time caregiver for her elderly mother, who died last week. Please also pray for Malaya's sister.
Malaya was diagnosed a month after me, which made me feel even closer to her. I was looking forward to going on this cancer journey together and was hoping I'd be able to help in some small way. When Jody told me this news this morning, it hit me pretty hard. I should know better - because samsara is so harsh - but I wasn't expecting Malaya to go so fast.
I'm off to Wishfulfilling Jewel - where we'll dedicate for Malaya, her mother and her sister - so I have to run, but I wanted to get this request out before I went.

Shadows on the Outside - Funny & Inspiring

Came across this old piece called "Sincere meditations" by Anne Lamott yesterday and thought you'd enjoy it. It's about a man with severe facial deformities. which he calls "shadows on the outside."
Here's how it begins:
"A friend said mournfully the other day that he'd lived his life like the professor on 'Gilligan's Island.' While he found time to fashion generators out of palm fronds, vaccines out of algae, he never got down to fixing that huge hole in the boat so he could go home. How many people actually do? Sometimes, if you are lucky and brave, you can watch someone who's met with serious illness or loss do this kind of restoration, this work that you may suspect we are here on earth to do. Or if you've ever seen David Roche, the monologist and pastor of the Church of 80 Percent Sincerity, you may have already witnessed this process."

If you keep reading you get to this:
" 'We in the Church of 80 Percent Sincerity do not believe in miracles,' he said. 'But we do believe that you have to stay alert, because good things happen. When God opens the door, you've got to put your foot in it.'
...
God, it's such subversive material, so contrary to everything society leads us to believe -- that if you look good, you'll be happy, and have it all together, and then you'll be successful and nothing will go wrong and you won't have to die, and the rot can't get in."

Of course I don't agree with all of it - for example, I believe in 100% sincerity and 100% compassion - I hope that goes without saying.

My Life as a Dog

Sleeping, resting, eating, napping, going for walks, snoozing, snacking, dozing, crashing, sacking out, eating - this has been my life the last couple of weeks - just like a dog's, but without the barking. Except for the walks, you could say it was a cat's life. I probably seem as aloof as a cat, because when I'm this tired I don't have the energy to talk on the phone or respond to emails - but I appreciate your calls and emails all the same.

On a typical day I sleep in, then get up and move to the couch. When the weather's nice, I'll spend some time lying on a Thermarest mattress on the deck; when it starts to cool off, I'm back to the couch.
I have a bit more energy today and should keep improving this week, until my next treatment July 2.
Mostly it's the Cisplatin chemo I get in the hospital that wipes me out. I can illustrate it with numbers: The day before treatment, my ANC (a key measure of my white cells) was 3.8; after treatment, it was 0.5. Normally the ANC has to be 1.0 to get part 2 of the treatment, but again my doctor said to go ahead, because I also got a shot of Neulasta, which he knows will bring my counts back up in a few days. I was sorry to miss Saturday's fundraiser, but with my counts so low I'm vulnerable to infection.

It's a good thing I've always believed in the power of thought. When I was in college, I can remember debating with friends about how they defined their lives: They insisted that what really counted was doing, not thinking or being, and to them doing meant actions that other people could see. I wasn't very good at arguing, but I believed deep down in what Buddhism calls "mental actions." So even though all I can do some days is lie on the couch, I can still recite mantras and practice taking and giving. I'm grateful that our tradition offers a wide range of practices, from the ones that fit under a fingernail to the ones as vast as space, so that whatever your capacities or affinities, there is always something you can do.