Happy Halfway!

I just took my last four ATRA pills for this round. Four rounds done, four to go.

During competitive swimming practices growing up, we used to shout that expression halfway through hard sets. This doesn't feel so different. Halfway through the pain, and just like with those hard workouts, I'll grit my teeth and get through the last four rounds.

Thank you to all my coaches and teammates for teaching me how to be mentally tough!

First Birthday

Today would have been Lily's first birthday, if she'd been born on her due date.

It seems like it would be hard to miss someone we never knew, but Ryan and I do. We feel her absence the most during the moments that would be perfect for Katelyn to spend with her sister and playmate.

PCR Remission Test Result

The PCR test came back clean: I'm still in remission!

Right now, I feel so sick that I can't think about celebrating with chocolate cake, or even adding a picture of it to this post. I've been throwing up throughout this morning, which means the ATRA dose I took this morning is likely not still in me.

ATRA Art

Today is the first day of round four of eight. On our way to my last appointment with Dr. Goldberg at the John Theurer Cancer Center, we passed a display of patient artwork in the lobby. The reproductions were from cancer patients across the country, but JTCC does offer free art classes as a form of therapy. Some day, I'd like to try one. I am a believer in art therapy (Coping Through Creative Expression). Until I can fit one of the center's classes into my schedule, I've decided to do a little art therapy on my own. Below is the result of my effort this morning, before popping the first four pills, entitled ATRA Art. A mock interview follows, which was just as enjoyable to write.

Q & A with the Artist

Q: How did you prime your canvas?

A: The same way any other good leukemia patient would: with disinfectant.

Q: What inspired you to include the broken tea cup in this piece?

A: It was sitting on the dining room table next to me when I began working. The tea set is one of Katelyn's all-time favorite toys. She first became capable of imaginative play shortly after I returned from my induction hospital stay, so our first tea parties together are great memories for me. Last week, she dropped the tea cup on a tile in our kitchen. It will be glued back together. Just as these treatments have been gluing back together our happy family life.

Q: While you were working, were you worried you might sneeze and blow the design?

A: Yes. I wore a face mask from my days of no immune system.

Q: The pills all face the same direction in the deliberate lines. Was this intentional?

A: That would be one heck of a coincidence if it weren't. I wanted to create the impression of order in chaos. At one point, too late, I realized I'd placed a pill facing the wrong direction. Hopefully no one notices.

Q: Did any particular artists influence this masterpiece?

A: Vik Munz. I dig his work.

Q: Did any particular drugs influence this masterpiece?

A: Perhaps. Theoretically, it would fit my treatment timeline.

Q: Can we expect to see more greatness from you in the form of ATRA Art?

A: I can't commit at this point, but the fact that I have four more rounds to go should give you a sense.



Buy "Gold" Now

It feels odd to be quoting the gold bullion and coin commercials that have apparently imprinted their message into my subconsciousness, but I'm really excited about this new book. Its author, Chris Cleave, also penned Little Bee, which was a runaway sucess, and Incendiary.

In the words of the September issue of Writer's Digest, Gold is about "...two rival Olympic cyclists--one a single-minded athlete to the core, the other an emotionally torn parent to a daughter with leukemia."

When unathletic Cleave first started working on this project, he spent two months training 20 hours a week as a cyclist, so that he would better understand his subject matter. The physical exertion wreaked havoc on his immune system, which gave him the idea for coupling the story of a sick child with that of elite athletes.

To research childhood leukemia, Cleave spent time at Great Ormond Street Hospital in London. He was so touched by the children he met there that this past June, he completed the HotChillee London-Paris bike ride to raise money for Leukaemia and Lymphoma Research. In total, his team raised over £100,000.

Since I just purchased this book, and likely won't finish it until after both the actual Olympics are over and my Aug. 7-21 chemo round, I can't comment on how good it is. But I've got a feeling it's not going to disappoint...

 

Dr. Goldberg Appointment

Time flies when you're a cancer patient.

No, that's not right.

Time flies when you're having fun.

Much better.

I cannot believe it's already almost been three months since my last round of the ATRA chemo. This morning, Ryan and I went to the cancer center for my quarterly consult and blood tests. We will receive the PCR remission test result back by the end of next week. This time, Dr. Goldberg also ordered a cholesterol level test. ATRA has a propensity to significantly raise cholesterol, so if the result comes back high, he'll put me on a statin.

Hopefully I won't need the drug, since it's only been less than three months since I went off Coumadin, the blood thinner. I've been enjoying feeling a little more "free." For instance, I rode my bike for the first time last weekend. (People on blood thinners are advised to avoid activities that can result in physical trauma for the obvious reason of greater bleeding.)

It's a good thing I waited, for I discovered that riding a bike is NOT just like riding a bike, in terms of being able to pick it up again. While in the driveway, I clipped one shoot onto the pedal of my racing bike and realized I wasn't wearing a helmet. Instead of unclipping that foot, I raised my other foot. Ooops. The result: driveway rash in three spots on my left leg, three massive bruises on my theft thigh, and a gash on my right ankle that I didn't discover until after my ride because the chain grease had staunched the bleeding.

Nothing like being back in the saddle of life. Given how prone to anxiety I've been since my diagnosis. I'm proud of myself for actually going on a bike ride after my rough start. It might have something to do with the First Descents trip I recently attended. The adventure helped me remember how good it feels to let go of fear enough to challenge myself. I've been thinking about what my "FD Challenge" will be. More to come on that.

Fighting Together

Lately I have heard from multiple sources that my blog has been a source of strength for other cancer fighters and caretakers. For anyone who reads this who is also coping with cancer, whether as a patient or a family member/friend, my prayers and thoughts are with you.

Throughout my journey, I have discovered that the Internet can be a terrifying place. Information and the frequency of "worst case" outcomes can seemed biased toward the negative on the Internet, because often those that reach out on the Web are those most in need.

Hopefully, my blog, which I really, truly try to keep as encouraging as possible (Life IS a beach!), serves as a positive reference for those working through a cancer diagnosis. If you have come across this site as part of a broader Internet search, please please remember my negative bias point above. Use the web as a tool to educate yourself, but not as a source to feed the "what ifs."

It saddens me every time I learn of another patient. I wish I were the only one. I am a huge believer in the power of the mind, and of drawing strength from the positive relationships in our lives. If you could use one more friend in your corner, please feel free to find me on Facebook or leave a comment.

In the spirit of using the Internet to brighten our spirits, here's an amusing website I recently came across: When Parents Text.