New Beginnings

My thoughts go back to May 4th.
I'm sitting in my car, summoning my courage to kick in.
"I can do this..."
Three weeks ahead of me. How will I react to the IV chemo? Will I fly by or be one of the "problem children"?
Lots of questions. Lots of unknown.

Fast forward. As is the case every time, each day happened. Morning - evening. A new day. Every day.

I did fly by. My body responded to the IV nutrients and chemo without incident. My blood test results caused my doctors to smile. I met new friends - compatriots on the same journey of healing.

Three weeks.
And then - it was over. Graduation day, we called it. As each one finished their last IV and their PICC line was removed, pictures were taken, contact information exchanged, hugs and, yes, a few tears were shed. Back to Colorado, California, Wyoming, Massachusetts, Hawaii...

Hubster came to help me pack up. It's amazing how one can accumulate so much extra in just three weeks.
One last trek down the mountain, and just for good measure to remind me that I'm glad I don't have to make the trip again, it rained. In the middle of a rain cloud rain. The kind that makes you wonder if they should install turbo drive on the windshield wipers. That kind of rain.

So now I'm home with my new best friends for 3 months. These guys pretty much took over the house...and my life. Some I swallow before a meal, some with a meal and some - after. Yellow ones, brown ones, white ones.
But lets face it, the alternative - you know - eight hours per day hooked up to poisons dripping into my defenseless body for 6 to 8 months...
This is a picnic at the park.
My tumor is located in a spot that makes it uncomfortable to stand and walk at times. As the treatment hits its mark, the tumor will expand and shrink. This is the nature of the beastie.
I just began my low dose oral chemo. 3 times a day for a week, and then a week off. This continues with all my BFF supplements for 3 months. Then...
Cancer free?
That's what the doctor ordered. That's what we're all hoping and praying and working for.
Time will tell.

A Hope and a Future.

Stage 4.
Breast cancer
Lung cancer
Rectal cancer
Prostate cancer
Brain cancer

Makes you want to stop reading, doesn't it? So depressing. Hopeless. Edge of death.

There are six black recliners on one side of the room and six on the other - side by side with a small glass top table between. We're close enough for conversation. Close enough to hear each other's business. But then, it doesn't matter. We're all fighting the same battle. We're all comrades on the front lines up against the same foe. We watch each other's back. Care about each other's outcome, test results, setbacks and victories.
Some of us have been together from the beginning of the 3 week cycle. Others, we say good-bye to after only a few days. Some will say farewell to us and continue on to fight for another week or two.

Let me share a few of their stories.

Betty started out with lung cancer, which moved into her brain. She went the conventional way. She's undergone different chemos and treatments. All of them made her sick. All of them came with the price of side effects. She's from Wyoming.
Berry, also, started out with lung cancer which moved into his liver and brain. Conventional treatment - side effects. The day after his last radiation, against his doctor's advice, he and his wife hopped a plane so he could begin treatment at Century Wellness on Monday. They came from Massachusetts.

Jerry has prostrate cancer. He also did the conventional treatment. Same story. Sickness and side effects. He still has cancer. An avid golfer, he now has a hard time walking around. He's from Southern Nevada.

Mel is from California. He's in advanced stage stomach cancer, and has to carry around his stomach feeding tube machine. As all the others, he tried the conventional approach. Same song, different verse. Side effects. Some days are better than others for him. He's determined to kick the disease. Seriously, he should be dead by now, but he's not.

Aaron has rectal cancer - again. After the full round of conventional - chemo, radiation and surgery, he was given the "in remission" title. However, that didn't last. It came back. All within a year. He's from So Cal.

Each person speaks about the living hell they went through with their treatments. Not one of them speaks highly of their journey. They all dealt with doctors who considered any other alternative something only witch doctors dabbled in. They were all categorized, staged, given the dreaded countdown to eternity numbers and sent on to the infusion rooms and radiation rooms.
"This is how we do things. There is no other viable way. No studies to prove any other approach."
And in the immortal words of my dear ol' surgeon, "when are you going to use real medicine?"
But each of my comrade's stories don't end on a sour note.
They've all survivors. Not of their cancer. No, they are survivors of conventional methods that did not work, or caused more issues.
Each one of them walk in to the center every morning with hope and a future. They all look pretty good. Sure, there are red light and green light days. A little nausea; looking forward to an afternoon nap. Let's face it, we're still doing chemo - albeit in small doses. But the chemo is sandwiched between layers of nutrients, vitamins, minerals which repair and protect the healthy cells. Our bodies are fortified with life and energy to fight the good fight.
And along with that - something that I feel is the yummy sauce which holds the fixins' in place - we are given hope, encouragement, laughter, joy, peace, kindness...
We're told every day by the staff, whether in word or deed that we're important and cared for. They are on our sides. They want us to thrive - not because that's what pays their bills, but because they see on a regular basis the results of love and compassion and G~d given tools to repair and restore our bodies.
Combining science, nature, hope and prayer in the treatment of cancer.
Yes, this about sums it up.
(I've changed names to protect privacy)

Next - Graduation Day

The Stats Are In

The stats are in.
My blood was separated, isolated and amalgamated. The cancer cells received chemotherapies and nutrients to see which ones responded. Imagine that, all done in little glass tubes without touching my healthy cells. Instead of bombarding my body with a huge dose of what may or may not work and hoping for the best, it was all done in the comfort of a lab.

Now the battle plan is in order. Time to prepare the arsenal.
2 chemos and and 17 nutrients.
Because cancer feeds on sugar, my body will be denied the pleasure. The cancer cells will cry out for food - aka sugar and the little receptors will be like baby birds with their tiny beaks wide open. Insulin will be infused with chemo and like a trojan horse the cancer cells will greedily open their doors wide when they see the "food" a-comin'. Ka-blam! All my other cells will be doing what they normally do, thriving and living while the cancer cells are filled full of the tiny warriors with one purpose - death and destruction.
Only around 10% of chemo is needed because they are targeting only cancer cells. I won't be plagued with side effects. And that's not all... I'll have the 17 nutrients acting as the repair and rebuild crew to shore up the walls. l have a 90% chance of full recovery. Now that's a good deal!
My little explanation of treatment is very elementary, but I think you get the point. Lots of bang for my buck. Lots of hope for the future. I have much living yet to do!

On May 3rd, Hubster and darling daughter will load up the covered wagon and ship me and Chaim across the mountain pass to my new digs.
But first...
PICCn' and grinnin'.  Somebody Help the Girl GiveForward Fundraiser

Healer, Heal Me

Hubster and I belong to a large corporate HMO provided through his place of employment. We have benefited from it greatly. Both he and I have seen the inside of the ER, logged up plenty of doctor visits for various illnesses and injuries and taken advantage of their pharmacy and radiology departments. So in no way do I wish ill will or mass destruction on the institution. They have served us well.
But... when I received my cancer diagnosis, I knew I had to be well informed about treatments and procedures. This was a major life changing decision I would make - one that would impact not only me but my circle of family and friends. I needed to explore all my options.
After the conventional medicine follow-up tests, I was immediately placed in the cue for appointments with a surgeon and oncologist and offered a visit to a radiologist. I turned that one down. I was getting overwhelmed.
Conventional medicine offers the trinity of treatment for cancer - chemotherapy, radiation and surgery. Sad to say, it is also known as cut, poison and burn.
Each doctor presents their method of treatment much like one would sell you a time share. You go in their office, and after the prescribed welcome hand shake, they sit you down, tell you that you need their services and if you don't take advantage of their offer within 24 hours, your window of opportunity will be gone - oh and so will you...
Doctor Surgeon told me I had stage 3 cancer, needed surgery and gave me the colorful pleasant pamphlet showing the different methods of cutting out your colon, depending on where the cancer is located. The pictures showed happy, smiling doctors with happy, smiling patients before and after the procedure - oh, they were all artist rendered pictures - and gave a brief description of what would take place. Reminded me of the pamphlets you get when you buy into the new housing subdivision, shiny  new houses with shiny new lawns and pretty flowers. What they don't show you is how your subdivision is really going to look like when they are behind schedule and you still only have a foundation sunk in mud two months after you were scheduled to move in.

My picture showed a happy lady looking at her colostomy bag like it was a tattoo. Neat and easy.
I figured by the steady, controlled look on Doctor Surgeon's face that she was familiar with doing the surgery, but not so much the aftermath of what her patients went through after the deed was done.
After her pitch, I kindly let her know that I was contemplating a naturopathic approach, gave her my research findings and assured her that I was under the care of a licensed educated naturopathic doctor and not doing the witch doctor approach with bones and eyes of newt. Her eyes took on a glazed and guarded look, let me know that there was no founded studies "out there" that supported naturopathic cancer treatments, told me that she could not accept my decision and sent me on my way with a pronouncement that I'd probably be back like the others too sick for her to save.
My next appointment was with the oncologist. He was an older, serious man who cut to the chase, told me  he'd read Dr. Surgeon's report and knew of my "alternative treatment plan". He offered me his treatment - 5-FU chemotherapy along with radiation at the same time. He told me that there would be side effects - hair loss, nausea, diarrhea, severe anemia, low immunity to other illnesses, and although they don't know why, my hands and feet would turn red and blister. Oh, and the radiation? Just imagine an enema with acid... need I say more? He sent me on my way with a little more compassion. He let me know he could not agree with my alternative approach, but wished me well and would support my decision - because it was my decision.
So, I came away thinking - I have a better chance of dying from the treatments rather than the cancer.
Next: Healer, Heal Me - Part 2

Carbs and Salads

What wouldn't we give for

That extra bit more

That's all we live for

Why should we be fated to do

Nothing but brood on food

Magical food,

Wonderful food,

Heavenly food,

Beautiful food,

Food, Glourious food glororious fooooooood

What are we waiting for?.............FOOOOOOODDD!

Lyrics from Oliver

I'm a bit of a foodie. 

I enjoy cooking it and eating it. I enjoy watching the Food Chanel even if I can't eat much of what they prepare. Needless to say, before my "adventure", my weight was a wee tad on the heaver side of optimum for my height. My blood pressure - on the higher side of normal.

After Hubster had his heart attack, see link - http://verbalismbuffet.blogspot.com/2013/07/have-heart.html I decided that we would face the music. Our diet - although not bad, needed an adjustment. We began with smaller portions and more fruit and veggies.  We both lost a little weight. Off to a good start.

And then my world flipped upside down in January of 2014 with the cancer diagnosis. I knew it was all out war. Cancer or me. One was going down. I'm a fighter. Ain't no cancer gonna do me in. 
First course of action - vitamins and minerals to strengthen my immune system and extreme diet change. My naturopathic doctor (ND) put me on a reeeeally low carb diet. We're talkin' 35 grams a day low carb diet. 

If you go online, you'll get conventional doctors who argue that sugar does not feed cancer. Of course most of them in their medical studies are not required to take nutrition classes. On the other hand, naturopathic doctors do study nutrition. They understand the connection between what we eat and how our bodies process what we put in our mouths. Seems like a no brainer to me. 

Simple carbs turn into sugar. http://howtothinkthin.com/instincts2.htm
 Bottom line. Cancer does feed on sugar. http://www.naturalnews.com/024827_cancer_sugar_women.html
 So what does a low carb diet look like? At first - hell. No pasta, starches (potatoes, rice) bread, sweets, fruit - comfort food. Out went mac and cheese and cheese cake. Spaghetti Factory and Olive Garden? Nope. Instead, the salad bar became my best friend. And you know what? My body began to thank me. I lost a ton of weight. The pounds melted off of me. I began to feel better and had more energy. Sure it was hard. 

I whined a lot - glared at people who slurped down spaghetti noodles and chased it with thick slices of sour dough bread.

There were melt downs when fast fix chemo/radiation seemed better. Get it over with. Fill me with poisonous chemicals and  burning radiation. But thankfully the voice of reason (aka G~d) would remind me that His ways for me might be long and hard and restrictive, but in the long run, best. Did I want side effects which produce side effects or did I want one step at a time healthy alternatives that might take a lifetime? Quality of life won. And let me stop right here for a moment. I am not advocating my choices for everyone. This is the direction, after much prayer and thought, I have chosen to go. If you are or have gone the chemo/radiation route, may you have much success. May your life be full and long. We're all in a journey. This is the direction I'm to go in.
Next: So what treatment are you doing? 

Trust In The LORD

"Cancer is but one of the many ways the body tries to change the way you see and treat yourself, including your body. This inevitably brings up the subject of spiritual health, which plays at least as important a role in cancer as physical and emotional reasons do."  Andreas Moritz

I have choices and I have time. I have Heaven on my side, and I have people who care for me.

I knew I couldn't be pressured into making life changing decisions without lots of prayer and support.  

My surgeon, void of compassion, gave me the grim battle plan. Due to the nature of where the mass is located, I would have to endure chemo (hair loss, blisters on my hands and feet, nausea, diarrhea...) and radiation (think an acid enema - chemical burn in the place the sun don't shine) at the same time, then, the lower portion of my colon (rectum) removed and for the rest of my life have to wear a colostomy bag. And yes, I know that there are worse things others deal with and, yes, if this is my fate, I'll woman up and deal with it. 

Everything was said, probed, tested and done. The ball was in my court.

I have Heaven on my side.

My first course of action was to take Hezekiah's example. He was a King in Israel and received bad news.

And Hezekiah received the letter from the hand of the messengers, and read it; and Hezekiah went up unto the house of the LORD, and spread it before the LORD. 

  And Hezekiah prayed unto the LORD...   Isaiah 37:14-15

Then I waited. 

 G~d is faithful.

I began to receive verses from scripture. Not the hunt around and find something kind of thing. I've done that before. I ended up with...

Flip, flip, flip, close your eyes, point - "And Judas went and hung himself."

Flip, flip, flip, close your eyes, point - "Go and do likewise."

No, this was the "you know it's a supernatural thing". I'd be watching TV and a scripture reference would pop into my mind. I'd look it up and it would address the very thing I'd just prayed about - mostly a concern or fear. This happened several times.

And I'm not one to hear the voice of G~d on a regular basis.

Along with the verses, I'd be reading - scanning actually, a book or article and something would pop out. Something that addressed the very question I'd just had. Or, my mind would go into a mini melt down and I'd doubt my decisions or path I felt I was to walk, grab one of the books my naturopathic doctor, or a friend 

had recommended, open a random page and, bingo, the sentence that addressed my concern would jump out at me. 

Coincidence or coinkidinkles? Nope.

Next: I have people who care.

The Waiting Room

 But in my mind I keep returning to something, something that gives me hope - 

 that the grace of ADONAI is not exhausted, that his compassion has not ended. 

 [On the contrary,] they are new every morning! How great your faithfulness! 

 "ADONAI is all I have," I say; "therefore I will put my hope in him. 

 ADONAI is good to those waiting for him, to those who are seeking him out. 

 It is good to wait patiently for the saving help of ADONAI.

  Lamentations 3:21-26

I'm not much good at waiting. And I prefer the easy way. That's why I love writing. I can create a character, give them conflict and then - just like that - give them solutions. And they live happily ever after.

I woke up on Monday morning, after a weekend of denial and acceptance and denial and acceptance to realize, it wasn't a bad dream. I now had a frenemy to live with. THE DIAGNOSIS. 

Every time the phone rang, adrenaline shot through my body. Fight or flight. I could just not answer the phone if it was from the GI department, or radiology or the surgeon's office - flight. Or I could face it headlong and make appointments. I made appointments. Fight. In the next few weeks I was poked and prodded - white gloves and white coats. Every time I met with a medical provider, I wanted someone to say, "I can't find anything. You don't have cancer." I needed someone to give me hope.
 It was there - hope, small, but it was there. No doctor whisked me away to ICU saying I would die without immediate care. In fact, they all made it clear that although it was serious, very serious, and I shouldn't put off treatment - the sooner the better, and no one came out and said, "you have time to process this before making decisions", but I felt at peace with waiting. Okay I could live with that. I had time. Time to think, pray, straegise. Hope. 
Of course, dealing with a large HMO, they have their protocol. They offer you what they've been trained to do. Dealing with cancer, your only option is the BIG 3. Chemotherapy, radiation and surgery. Red flags began to unfurl. Did I want to give my body over to something that would destroy so much just to (hopefully) cure me?
I finished the battery of tests. Hubster and I knew there was only one thing to do...
L~rd help!! Where do we go from here??
Next: Who do I believe?