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.

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

Onward and Upward

One year.

One year since Dr. Little Black Cloud breezed into the recovery bay and delivered her now famous line,"we have a problem, you have cancer."
I wish I could report that I am now cancer free and training for the Boston marathon. Or that I'm featured in a new book - How to Beat Cancer Without Giving Up the Foods You Love.
But I still have the nasty little beastie hanging out in my southern hemisphere. The tumor is still compromising my sphincter muscles. I haven't moved back to Mitford.

But, here's what has happened in the course of the year.

Every few months, I had follow-up full meal deal blood tests. And the results?
My body was getting healthier.
How can it do that? You still have cancer?
My cells began working together, like a herd of elephants protecting a little one. They banded together to protect and defend. Unlike conventional chemotherapy that cannot differentiate between the good, the bad and the ugly, and destroys everything in it's path, the IV therapy and supplements I received helped the healthy cells get stronger. My immune system was not compromised. On the contrary, it took on new powers to keep the cancer from spreading.
I endured the seasonal maladies - colds and such the same way I had before my diagnosis. I had the usual week of the cruds, and then it cleared up. In fact, in December I went through a bout of tonsillitis. And although it was miserable for a few weeks, I got over it without any setbacks. My immune system fought like little troupers and won.
My follow-up CT scan showed no noticeable changes. No mastitis to other organs.
For having cancer, I'm one healthy chick. Go figure.

And now? What does my future hold?
Glad you asked.
I'm embarking on a new healing journey. Or, really, not new at all, but the next phase in the adventure.
I'd like to introduce you to my new friend, Chaim.
Chaim in Hebrew means - life.
He will be joining me as I post future blogs.
I've reported on my past road trips - girl friend road trips and Israel road trips. This one is called - a healing road trip.

Next: It begins with a suggestion.
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