When you're right...

Went to my ultrasound.

First of all, you have to drink enough water to make you want to piss your pants before they see you. I mean, a waiting room full of folks doing the peepee dance is pretty pathetic.

I had a major beef with them, though. I drank a crapload of liquids today, teas, water, etc. Told them so when I checked in. I drank some more water, because lord knows I did NOT want to have the scan start, and then they tell me that my bladder is not painfully full enough.

I sat there for an hour and a half.

Let me repeat myself. AN HOUR AND A HALF.

With a full bladder.

When I finally went to the desk, and there were others that were waiting longer, I asked how soon I could be seen.

"Oh, is your bladder painfully full?"

"Why yes. I'm about to pee out of my eyeballs. What is taking so long?"

"Well, you have to tell us when you're ready!"

"And, who told me that was the routine?"

"Ok, we'll see you now"

Back in the waiting room, I told another woman who had been there way longer than I. "Huh, that would have been valuable information for all of us", as she did her painful peepee dance.

Indeed.

I told the tech so as I was escorted into my get naked and into the most non-sexy gown room. She apologized. I told her that folks needed to know. NOBODY knew.

She scanned what she had to with said pee. I got to relieve myself for the rest of it. And I was less tense. DUH.

So we finally started chit-chatting. Because, when I go for diagnostic tests, I know the techs shouldn't talk about what's up. But I need them to.

After quite a bit of scanning, she said it looked like polyps. Which is good news. Because something was wrong and I knew it. And I thought it was cancer.

It still could be, technically, but rare, from what she described.

Now I know why my uterus kills me. And probably why I'm constantly craving chocolate. Though, chocolate is almost always delicious, I don't often seek it out. Until the polyps started growing, I assume. Otherwise, it was always just around period time.

Now, my choco-gluttony totally makes sense.

Naturally, since it is 2 days before Christmas, I need to call my oncologist and BEG him for the actual results. How many? How big? Are they cancer? Am I going to DIE!????

Because, at the end of the day, that is where our brains go. Once you've been chillin' with the angel of death, you're pretty comfy with the constant thought that your number is up super soon.

I have also instructed hubby to call the oncologist if I can't get an immediate answer, and say that I am having a nervous breakdown and need answers now.

I told the tech I could probably scrape it out myself, considering how much I've gone through. It'd be easy.

Ok. I'm still petrified. They have to cut more out of me.

BUT I want the pain to stop. It is crippling at times. Like, tears in my eyes crippling. Like, I want to actually die during the worst of it.

So, this is why I need answers and an appointment ASAP.

I'm glad they found it. If they said it was nothing, I would have to undergo CAT scans and crap. And I would be scared that I had been imagining it or it is something so rare and deadly that they don't know what they're looking at.

So, there's that.

Off to get another piece of chocolate. Eh. At least I have an excuse for now to be a piggy.

U to the Rus

Ok, that didn't totally make sense. But, I tried.

I'm going for my uterus scan Tuesday. Just a sonogram, so I won't be a step closer to

Though, now that I look at her, I probably would be ok with that. Except for the green skin thing.

It's actually my uterus, ovaries and kidneys,  I think.

Interestingly, my pains started again the morning of my oncology appointment. Not horrible, but something.

Then, I got my period the next day. If it only happened when my period started creeping, I'd probably write it off. But it happens every time I'm stressed, or have sex (Ewwww! Don't talk about that!), or any number of things. I'm tempted to not go. I told hubs that, but then he said when it happens again, I'm going to freak out. Which is totally true. Because I should freak out. Which is why I need to go Tuesday. Maybe it's just cysts that they need to shrink with a

or something of that nature. And if it's cancer? 

Seriously. The mind can go wild thinking of all of the horrible things that could be wrong. Ok, my mind can.

So, all I can do it try to not stress. Which is hard these days. Lots of stress in the family for a number of reasons. one is the possibilities of a ray gun and she-hulk, but there are others. And I try to be the best I can be. This too shall pass, or, we shall say goodbye to more bull in our lives. Because life is short. I want only good things. 

My daughter has been a shining example of doing your best. She's 13, granted. But her best is so much better than many folks older than her. I mean, really older. The other day I told her how interesting it was that she was a role model to someone older than she. She smiled, knowing it was true. She's such an interesting kiddo. I do not want to leave her on this planet without me, even though she has a great step dad. Also, I don't want to leave him. So, I will get scanned. And do whatever needs to be done to stay alive a while longer. 

Just had some golden milk and dried figs. Been trying to keep it light since I've had a hard time keeping weight off. I'm kind of what I think of as my maximum, though I have to remind myself that I was this weight probably at our wedding. I really got it together right after (which was only 6 or so pounds less, but at my size that's a lot), and upon diagnosis, worked hard to keep it off. That tamoxifen was a really tough contender, as was the radiation, and so my weight crept back up to my... wedding weight. Don't tell me to shut up though, because I know my body all too well. I have a harder time breathing, plus, I'm not doing anything decadent to really warrant the extra few lbs. I did have a good workout at the gym today, and I have to remind myself that I'm strong, and while it's not the goal, I do have friends who use me as a fitness example. So I guess I'm not doing bad for an old cancerous hag!  ;)

Standards

We set standards for ourselves. Our surroundings influence those standards, but we set them.

I know of folks who try to do the least amount needed to slide by in life.

Sometimes I think I set standards that are too high. I get tough on myself, and I get down on myself. But, I get excited when I get close or reach my high standards!

I feel as if I may be on the upswing. I don't know why. The physical and mental pain of recent, the stress, I have lost too much time to the selfishity (yes, I made that up) of the universe, trying to steal my good energy. So, here goes. Let's see how it works.

Oncologist appointment Tuesday. Let's see about my uterine pains (which are almost gone now, but not forgotten) and my head pains which I am pretty sure were stress driven.

I'm scared. I can't lie. I don't want tests because I don't want to hear that things are bad. But, I need to know, so I'll just ask the doc and see where that all goes. Meanwhile, I'm trying hard to not waste my life on bad energy. Because, that sucks.

Soooo, what's all this pain? Plus, Golden Milk recipe!

I have been noticing it for a while now. I get cramps in my uterus after sex. Yeah. TMI for some of you, but you should probably not read my blog if that's the case!

It's not immediate. It's the next day, usually. We keep writing it off as something else. But it's not getting better. So, of course, I head into the office of Dr. Internet.

Remember the Tamoxifen that nearly killed me off? It may cause uterine cancer. Yup. So, I'm pretty sure I'll be bombarding the oncologist with more questions than originally anticipated.

I'm thankful that I only took it for 10 months but wish I had listened to my own gut instead of fighting with my husband and staying on it for that long. I was miserable by about 4 months - as soon as my bones started hurting so badly that they made me cry at night. THAT was awful. I tried everything. But I was scared and didn't want to hear "I told you so" if I stopped and the cancer returned. I know. I wouldn't have heard it from hubby, but I may have heard it from myself. Because we are our own worst enemies in many cases, including these grey areas of health where we know how we feel and then we know we didn't go to school for this.

So, I made a new batch of turmeric paste, and enjoyed a gorgeous cup of golden milk this morning.

Boil turmeric, black pepper and water for about 10 minutes. Use a pot way bigger than you need. Stir constantly. Add water as needed.  Forget measuring, everything I read is different. You want a paste after about 10 minutes. The pepper - brings out the good stuff times 1000.

So I made a jar, and made some milk in the pan I used.

Add unsweetened almond milk, coconut oil (again, releases good stuff), some more black pepper (because, why not?) Pour into mugs and add raw honey (manuka is the queen). It is very bitter without sweetener.

So this is anti inflammatory heaven. I'm hoping it will help my uterus calm down. Because, who wants an inflamed uterus? Of course this has anti- tumor properties in it, so maybe if I drink this all day, I can defeat this. And, maybe it's just thick lining (a prequel to the cancer that I fear), and maybe it will help somehow. What if it's just a thick lining and it hurts? Do I go all Nun on my hubby and get him a gift certificate to an escort service?

I guess the weirdest part is that it is ok until about a day later. I kept thinking it was coincidence, and my hormones were so wild that it would "hit" something and start the cramps, or that it would make my body go into PMS mode. But I never had cramping like this around my cycle, regardless.

I had a bunch of ginger this morning, too. Maybe some extra krill oil will bring the inflamed offender down a bit. I hate this feeling. It makes me feel like my life is one big episode of tiptoeing around everything I do. I can't just be me anymore. I'm a science experiment. But not like the woman in

Ugh.

That is all.

Side effects? Anxiety? Fear?

Last night, I had a bit of medication, my own variety, a bit extra, and a drink.  I seem to indulge a bit more these days, possibly because I have a 13 year old, and no matter how great she is at her core, she is 13. And sometimes I have a hard time understanding her. Because at 13, I was watching my mom die, as my family (the "men") were being chronically apathetic, so I became the new mom in the house. I did everything. I cooked and cleaned and did yard work (even with a broken foot, the "men" just let everything grow over, so I hobbled out in my crutches with frighteningly dangerous lawn care items that were full of explosive gasoline, and I revved them up and tried my hardest to not fall over and chop my head off.  They probably would not have noticed, until dinner was not on the table.

My daughter, she has so much support in this house. Perhaps not at her dads, but her level of apathy toward certain things makes me wonder if she has it too good. Or that her dads house is filled with the fragrance of chronic apathy, just like mine was, and she has resigned to not pick up the slack.

She has jobs here, and does them when reminded. She gets paid. This will stop soon, as hubby and I discussed a NEW pay scale. She does it on her own, without being nudged? Extra money! Reminders? Docked. 3 reminders? She doesn't get paid. And if we have to do it, she will pay US to do her job. That will go in a special place for us to enjoy date night. We'll see how this goes, but I did not raise my child to be like her father.

Anyway, last night my head got so fuzzed out that I worried. It felt like I had an old fashioned cloth tied around my head, like the old school cartoon characters who had a toothache. I figured it was all the stuff I consumed.

Tonight - nothing. Kombucha, water, stir fried veggies and some faux-slaw (cabbage and onions in a little mayo, yum!)  So, what gives? I'm now toothache cartoon gal again.

Maybe it's anxiety, depression, endometriosis, a blood clot about to kill me - the internet is full of fun stuff! But I wonder if this is still the meds exiting the building. I did get my period today (halleloooo!) and am crampy, but this head thing makes me think I'm coming, Elizabeth!

I'm not afraid of the Angel of Death, as Ruiz suggests we should not be. And I get it. It's easier to live my life, knowing I could die now. Or now. Or now. But this fuzzy head makes me think I have to make sure all my ducks are in a row. Because who's going to take care of my ducks if they're all over the place?

Frustrations, but small triumphs

Ah. Ye olde weight fluctuations. It seemed, for the past month, no matter what, I stayed an extra 5 lbs. over my usual weight. The other day, I literally could not breathe. I know. Folks who know me would say that's shallow, that I should be grateful to be alive. I am. But what is going on?

Seems I dropped some of it yesterday by basically only eating dinner. Sounds unhealthy? It's actually intermittent fasting. I do a version daily and basically eat in an 8 hour window, but this extreme measure helped me out. I'm positive I would be 50 lbs instead of 5 lbs. heavier if I ate like I used to. Thanks, Tamoxifen. 

Of course, coming home to mothering stress drove me to making breakfast for dinner. Not bad, an over easy egg, 2 slices of organic bacon, a piece of ezekiel toast (a very rare treat!) with butter, almond butter and fig preserves. But still. I could have done better for myself. I did have a nice big kale salad, too!

Food is such an emotional vehicle. I'm feeling better somehow. Comfort. But I also feel as if I just undid some of yesterday. Even though my mid-day meal was a big giant veggie juice and a protein bar.

Ok, I am forgiven. All that I consumed were organic things, no flour based anything, and I feel sated.

Perhaps it's a good night to watch a movie instead of clean and practice music like I had planned. We'll see how it pans out, but I need a ME moment about now. It's not bad, but it's been a long trek without much sunlight or time to breathe. I have to remember that I have accomplished a lot recently and that it's OK to rest. Maybe a few cookies or pieces of chocolate. Eh. I'm human.

I'm sorry, but I don't believe in some things.

First of all - holy cow! I've been working like a maniac. Really good since the NEW KITCHEN IS DONE and gorgeous. And I spent more than what I sometimes make in a year on it. Now I'm asking for a bathroom estimate. Not nearly the job this was, it would literally be a new bathtub, toilet, sink, cabinet, tiles, vanity and light. And painting. Fingers crossed that it's not too painful financially!

Anyway, I'm going to vent a bit. And I apologize if I offend anyone. Truly.

But, God does not bring stuff to us that we can handle. And God will not cure us. If that were the case, why is my mother dead? Why am I still sick? I believe in people who truly believe - but not people who leave it up to higher powers to make us all well. Clearly, that has not worked. Not that I have witnessed. Religion is good. Don't get me wrong. Goodness and Kindness rock.

I just hear and see it so often. Folks are quick to pray for you. Folks are quick to tell you that God wouldn't give you this disease or pain or death in the family if you couldn't handle it. What the heck does that mean???

So, God gave my mom cancer because she could handle it. But she couldn't. So she died. And me, in my teens, after watching my mom die painfully over the course of 10 years was strong enough to handle it. But I wasn't.  I still cry at losing her. It's been 25 years since she passed. No, God. I can't handle it and she couldn't either. Now, I'm apparently strong enough to handle it, and my daughter hopefully is NOT strong enough to handle my death. Because that means I won't die!!!

Religion can make people strong, or give them a muse to make them feel it. That's GREAT. I see it EVERYWHERE in the world of Cancer. And, people still die from Cancer, no matter how much they believe.

I believe in faith. I believe in living well and doing good for others. I believe in taking care of yourself. But, I do not believe that the magic man will cure me, or give me a horrible stuff because I'm strong. If that IS the truth, I'm going to stop working out and become emotionally unstable. Because I don't need more stuff that "I can handle".

What do I believe? That you are allowed to believe what you want. That you are not allowed to impose your beliefs on someone else's misfortune.

I'm not gonna lie. My mom dealt so much better with her cancer when she was still on the Buddhist side of the world. She converted to Christianity and was baptized as an adult with 2 children and cancer. She went to bible classes and everyone prayed for her. She died horribly. She did sustain some Buddhist practices that brought her peace. I wish she had stuck to that, instead of relying on everyone's empty promises.

This is a major reason why I cringe when someone says they're praying for me. There are very few people on the planet that I believe, when they say they are praying for me. Sorry, guys, for my occasional bad word on this blog, but I love you dearly and always welcome your love and prayers. You mean it. You make things happen, and I believe in you, your love, AND your prayers.

Others - just help. Do something nice. Help me find alone time to meditate or work out. Encourage my healthy lifestyle and positive affirmations. Suggest a good book or music or spoken word to uplift me. Suggest a funny movie on Netflix. Remind me to take melatonin so I can maybe rest a bit.

Rant over. Because my life is full of positivity, but once in a while this stuff gets way deep in my radar.

Funny thing, I played at my favorite church today. I absolutely adore everyone there. They pray for me, but they believe it helps me. That to me is real. That's good vibes. Good energy. That IS healing. The music we made, totally healing. The honesty and laughter and smiles, super duper healing. Some folks live it. They believe it and never impose it, even under "God's Roof". And that, my friends, is help. It's all the lemmings that say they're religious to appease the family or society. Even the ones who believe that they are, but it's all an act. It's being brainwashed from childhood. This is what you do, because you've always done it. I was one of them until my teens. I knew nothing else. My grandparents and mom (who had switched for the companionship of the congregation) taught me about buddhism. It's a lifestyle. It's not a label, or a social standing. It's what we all should strive for. It's peace and love. I believe that anyone who believes in goodness is the freaking Bees Knees. Do they even have knees?

Peace! Love! xoxo

Achy and useless

Not totally, but I've been achy for a few weeks now. Sick? Eh, who knows. Overworked? Definitely. Underslept? Bingo.

As much as I try, I seem to not be able to sleep enough. My brain triggers very early in the morning. Not good. I mean, my alarm is set for 6am - but I wake up by 5 or earlier. Seriously, what gives?

Construction in home may be partially responsible. Feels unsettled, dusty, disorganized. But still... unacceptable reason. I'm glad I got through the fashion show last week without taking a spill. It was wonderful, being able to raise money for a cancer center. Plus, I love fashion. If only I could have kept the clothing (especially the skirt - ok, everything. I loved everything).

I have so much coming up - work, projects, life... I need sleep.

My diet has also been super wonky for the past few weeks, but I think I'm back on track. Gained a few and lost a few. Whatever. But I think it may be part of what is affecting my sleep. Eating out more than usual with construction. Even when you order an organic salad in a restaurant, it's not your concoction. It's usually way more delicious, and probably filled with stuff that you wouldn't put in your own salad. Plus the bread. We almost never eat gluten, but a gorgeous, fresh organic breadbasket? Ok, I'm also not immune to a ghetto challah or even those stupid sesame covered breadsticks that are wrapped in plastic and are clearly not actual food. They taste extra good dipped in those little butter packets - which at least are butter. BUT, it's still not a part of my usual diet that keeps my body running optimally.

So, today was a pretty good food day, and I also worked out for the first time in too long, and I treated myself to a hot stone massage because I'm so achy. It helped. I needed it. I need much more than that, apparently. But it was nice to have someone be nice to me for an hour with hot stones.

What I really need is sleep. And a sponsor, so I can worry less about working and more about healing and helping others. Because as of now, I do it all, somehow.

Tonight - me/netflix. Must make time to chill out. Even if I don't get enough sleep tonight, I need my brain to get a hot stone massage.  In fact, I'm going to spray my apartment with lavender right now. And lay on my bed of nails. It feels amazing though it hurts like a mofo. You literally are forced to relax. And when you're sick? Amazing.

Sometimes you have to remember to be kind to you, in the process of being kind to the world. I tend to forget that I count. And then I get sick. Hmph.

A Good Cause.

This has been a week of exhausting following a week overseas. No rest. I know. Bad me.

Anyway, hubby and I played for a cancer fundraiser and it was amazing. Local band worked with us, and we had a great time. Raised money. I threw some CD's at our friend's daughter's table and apparently she sold 6 in record time. Perhaps she should be my PR person - once she graduates high school. Or... ;)

It was amazing. We were their donation, as a musical guest. What a cool donation - we had folks dancing, smiling, singing, it was a moment to always remember in my own darkest Cancer Hours. We all have them. They sneak up randomly. That's when we need to reach into our memory banks and really remember the good we can do in the world.

Speaking of good-doing, my husband was in a film for gender equality. Not some random youtube film, but much bigger - which means more chance of a global impact. Celebs are behind it. Let's hope to make a splash. He cried in the video. It made me cry, too. It's not too much to want a world that is fair to everyone. Watch the He For She video here, courtesy of the United Nations.

So, our house is in a shambles. Construction like a mofo. My death kitchen is underway. Walls have been broken down. Cabinets are long gone. We live in plastic wrap like

 

ET!!!

But they keep saying 4 weeks, and we started Wednesday. So that means, 3.5 weeks. Not that I'm counting!!!  

Next week - fundraiser fashion show. I hope I don't do this!

Could it be? Could the clouds of Tamoxirage have possibly lifted?

So, I don't want to jinx anything, but I've been in a good mood. Like the old me. Before this cancer crap.

It's only been a few days, but hubby has certainly noticed it. Possibly because I haven't tried to kill him in a few days. No, I never wanted to, but damn, I was living forever on the edge of a cliff, clinging to one little branch that threatened to snap and send me plummeting to my cancer death.

And, if you've ever seen someone (I once had a kitten who nearly jumped out of a 10th story window - luckily I saved her and she lived to the ripe old age of 18) on that edge of a cliff, they will do anything to hang on. Meaning, my sweet kitten scratched and bit the hell out of me as I saved her from going splat on the sidewalk. True story.

Because when someone tries to talk us down, or throw a rope, we have to use blind faith that they are right. That the rope will hold. It has never felt like it would, until a few days ago.

What changed? Heck if I know. My hormones are shifting back. My weight is still a battle. If I starve myself and work out, I definitely look better and feel... meh. My blood sugar has been really sensitive and I'm sure it's my "I need to button my size 2 pants, damnit!" attitude. And, I'm right. I need to. For the most part, they do. But sometimes, the moon is in the wrong position, the tides are wonky, the stars are all messed up in their alignment, who knows. I know, it's my hormones fighting to be reasonable again. Doing my best.

But at least I'm happy. I've set a new rule, I have to eat something before noon. Been intermittent fasting, which worked for a while, and still does to a point, but that blood sugar gets me at noon. I prepare a big ass veggie juice in the morning. And I try like hell to ignore it until I can't take it any longer. I do enjoy my cup of organic coffee with coconut oil, cayenne-ginger-cinammon and sometimes some stevia if I'm feeling frisky. And also some home brewed kombucha with chia seeds. So technically, I'm not fasting.

I wonder if I am like my grandma - she had diabetes. Nothing about her lifestyle would indicate that she would be susceptible. I don't know if she was type 1 or 2. Exercised, never overweight, happy life, yet she had that. Hmph. Eventually I'll worry enough to get tested, but for now, let's get this cancer and hormonal balance together.

Flying tomorrow evening for some gigs. It's a week away, but only 2 shows. Which may sound good to some, but I'm only being paid for 2 shows, but am away for a week. Eh. But the good news is that I'll maybe get a chance to relax, workout, sightsee, and SLEEP. Came home around 3am last night/this morning. Woke up at 7 when hubs was leaving. Struggled to sleep again until about 8:30 when I had to give our diabetic cat his shot. Practiced, started packing (still need to complete!), had a half assed workout and a nice walk, with some lunch goody shopping for my kiddo (she brings a thermos of udon noodles to school daily - true story!)

Let's hope this mood thing is here to stay. I can't stand being a lunatic. In a bad way. In the good way? Bring it.

Freaking eyelashes

Ok. So it's been over a year. A chunk of eyelashes went missing after my last surgery. Fine. That's totally normal, or sort of. But why in the heck are they refusing to come home to mama??? They grow in and fly away overnight. I'm so sick of it. Tonight as I washed my face (super carefully, with coconut oil) I realized that the gap has gotten worse.

I know they were really thin and short during my Tamoxifen stage. But that ended almost 7 months ago. I have my period back. In fact, it comes every 3 weeks more or less. I'm not complaining (as of now). I get horrendous cramps and bleed like the red sea has opened up in my woman parts, but again - at least it's working.

But Damn. I feel disfigured and scarred. I'm getting a handle on my weight - it yoyo's, but it's a bit better as time goes on and the poison leaves my system (I hope!!!) I need my freaking eyelashes.

I wear falsies on stage. I can't wear them daily. I've been using a serum that has worked in the past, but nothing. I've tried fractionated coconut oil stuff - to clean out the ducts. Nope.

I have toyed with getting extensions until I realize they would have nothing to extend!!!  It's like putting tracks on a bald person. You need a full wig.

So, I've been wearing lots of eyeliner and glittery mineral eyeshadows to detract. I do that anyway, but I'm more conscious of it. I look like I could be in the Clockwork Orange - perhaps it will come to Broadway soon... though I'd have a tough time with some of the fuckery involved in the character. But, I have the lashes!!! Or lack thereof!

Anyhoo. A new cancer victim in my circle. Stage 1. Methinks she'll end up with a lumpectomy. But nothing is an easy trail in this world. I don't know her too well but we have hung a few times (she's an out of towner).

Sometimes I feel worse for my husband and daughter than for me. They didn't ask for this. My husband just entered our lives a few years before this all hit. Sometimes I tell him to go find someone who is cancer free, has 2 boobs, and can live a while longer. He refuses. I know it hurts him to hear, but it hurts me to see him dealing with my cancer insanity.

People die. People get scared.

It's been forever since I've blogged, just too busy, a little down, and well, ok, just busy!

Chatting with a friend now who is petrified of a biopsy about to go down tomorrow. But she's SO worried and asking all sorts of crazy questions as if she's been diagnosed. I get it, but does it help? Get the biopsy first. You can't fix it by worrying. You can't change the outcome by worrying. You can change your lifestyle. But you can't change the tumor in a day.

Someone passed that I had met on a photo shoot, ironically to help raise money for my good friend Champagne Joy. Death really does loom over me. Constantly. I had a dream that someone I know with cancer died. I checked in and he's alive. But it was real in the dream.

Woke up an hour early today. I think my brain is going bonkers. Been having massive blinding pains in my back. Stress. Ain't enough Calgon in this world to fix me at the moment... deep breath. Owch.

Back home to leave

Just home from a whirlwind gig in France. It was gorgeous. I am exhausted. The gig itself felt like it was about 3 days straight - we had fun, but I'm not used to a show that freaking long! Anyway, I love the South of France... we had a tiny bit of time to explore, which was a luxury. But when I got to my room after the gig I had 2 hours before lobby call for my 10+ hour trek home. Yeah. Not a lot of sleep.

Got home in time to unpack and repack for this week. I'll be teaching at Bemidji MusiCamp, and that is always a bit of a stretch for me. Let's hope I can get some sleep tonight so my tolerance for the little angels will be rocking. I know. I'm a mother. But I'm spoiled, my daughter is so mindful and well behaved. We have our moments, but I'd say it's rare for her to get on my last nerve. And she'll be 13 in a week and a half. Yup, I get home right before her birthday. And, what does she want for her birthday??? The big 13???

Onigiri.

Yes.

My daughter, about to turn 13, wants rice.

Man, I love my family. I got her some really cool stuff, but she requested no party. I'm great with that! We are going to a friends house to hang the next day, they have a swimming pool and always an overage of snacks.

My daughter is so like me. I love being alone. I love being within myself.

Sometimes it's hard. I have an outward appearance of being a social butterfly, one who likes to be in crowds. I like crowds, in the audience when I'm on stage. Otherwise, I love solitude.

My husband is a good person to be alone with me within myself. He's not a party guy, and yes, he also has a little reputation as a fellow musician. Folks think we're super social. Because our jobs are. If you walk into our home, you'll find a waterfall at the entrance. We try to keep it neat and sometimes succeed, other times we are still ok. We like minimalism (except in my closet, I admit it!)  We like calm. Our lives are so hectic that quiet is welcome.  We cook and eat at home mostly. Even my girl now prefers to eat at home. Why? Because "You have no idea what's in restaurant food. It's full of GMO's and other garbage that is bad for us. Plus, I like our cooking better."

Our, meaning all of us. She is becoming quite the little chef. I see so many reflections of myself in her.

And I see reflections of my mom in me.

Recently, it's been the negative stuff associated with cancer. I find I am withdrawing more and more from my man. Last week it hit me - my mom did the same to us. It wasn't conscious, and it wasn't meant to be cruel. She was dying. And now I feel like she must have - I don't want anyone to be too sad when I croak.

I remember her telling me no matter what, I needed to fly to a gig that I was super excited about - playing with the Interlochen Alumni Jazz Ensemble. I was 18, which is too young to get such a cool gig. She died a few days later. Nobody told me and I was going to visit her before my trip. I got to the hospital way the heck out in NJ like I always did, and the looks on the nurses faces - GEEZ. When I die, I do NOT want any nurses giving my daughter that look. Poor thing. Blahblahblah. I wish I had the nerve to slap them all. But, that's the past. I don't want my daughter and husband watch me die, but I also don't want to disconnect emotionally, to prepare them. To soften the blow.

So I have to work on staying present and happy. It isn't easy when you're petrified of what your body might be growing. But, my girl. Almost 13. My husband, the most amazing man I've ever known.

I'm here now. I need to remember that important fact.

Some days you win, and some days the disease wins.

A lot is in our minds. I know this.

Some days I get so nauseous and even sick, or pass out, or just feel freaking crazy, and not for any reason that I know of. Is it the cancer? Is it PTSD? Is it fear of dying or living?

My parents pretty much hated each other, but what could my mom do? She was dying, with 2 young kids, in a different country from where she lived for 30 years. She was a wonderful, brilliant, beautiful woman. And then she got cancer at 40.

Her baby sister died from cancer soon after my mother's diagnosis, in her mid-late 20s. Her brother passed after that, also from cancer. My cousin got it but lived, as far as I know... we're not in touch.

Cancer, and other diseases that basically haunt you forever, are quite the mind game. I can be a real jerk now, without being able to stop. Sometimes I wonder if it's the meds which basically made me bi-polar. Are they still in my system? Is that why I'm passing out and throwing up? I know I'm not pregnant. I checked.

Something that dawned on me today after a knock down fight (minus anything physical) with hubby, is that I could be protecting him from missing me when I die. Perhaps our minds are set up to basically sabotage our happiness so that when we croak from [insert horrible disease of your choice or applicable affliction here], our partners are relieved, even if just silently, that we are gone. My mother had some doozy moments. I can see myself in my memories of her. And I feel now that she too could not control her insanity.

Medically induced insanity to save our loved ones from being too sad because we're dying.

Huh.

I'm sure no traditional Western Docs would agree. They'd prescribe some BS to turn us into zombies and tell us that we're just crazy too, on top of our cancer, or whatever.

This is real.

I'm not going to take some crazy pills, but learn to self medicate/meditate.

Also, I got my period today. It's been coming back fairly regularly and always heinously.

That could be part of the insanity, but I can't say that I was always this horrible.

I also didn't sleep. Well, perhaps 3 hours. Yeah, not enough. Though I did manage to hit the gym ok.

Just had some homemade hummus and lettuce/cabbage salad. I think I should pour myself something and relax. So much to do, but my head won't stop taunting me. I'm dying. We all are. But I have a bit more concrete evidence that I may go like my mom, her sister, her brother, and squillions of other cancer victims.

No wonder my head is so messed up. Yeah. I do need a generous pour about now.  Perhaps a funny movie. I've been reading cancer books too much. Even my bookshelf has cancer!!!

For all of my fellow warriors out there, I know I'm not alone in this, because I saw my mom go through it. If anyone has a better cure than crazy pills or a sip, please let a sister know. xo

Happy Fourth! Soup was a success! Travels ahead...

Well, I managed to drop a few lbs. with that magic soup I typed about last time. Today, being the fourth of July, my daughter and I went out for sushi. Most folks think that is a low calorie treat, but rice turns to sugar. I always gain a bit, so that was my only meal today unless I polish off that cabbage soup tonight (which is likely).

I woke up 2 pounds to my goal weight, but a pound lighter than my pre-cancer-diagnosis weight. So, I'm not complaining!  Hopefully I'll be lingering at a positive weight when I wake up - at 3 or 4 am for my flight to Quebec tomorrow.

Yup, gigging in quaint Quebec tomorrow night. Happy for the work. NEED the work. Would like to chill at home, I'm SO tired. But, I can't complain. This summer is booked to the gills. I need to pack - I love overnight trips, so easy. Equipment, costume, and some essentials. Not sure we'll have workout time, so I'm just going to roll up some leggings and hope for the best. I usually bring an onslaught of gym attire, but not for this one. Wear sneaks, will pump iron.

My daughter has been remarkable. Teaching herself piano. She's interesting. My studio has a window that faces the piano. We'll both be practicing, and she'll knock. Ask questions. Really listen. Magic. This is why we don't force children into activities like that. She rejected piano years ago. I let her. Now, she's here on her own. Really working.

She is also the best cat insulin injector. So, as hubs and I are away on gigs, she is responsible for 2 injections. On her own. I have faith. If something happens, it's ok, but we talked about that. He won't die. But he'll feel like crap. She gets it. No reason to panic, but do your best. I let her dad know the schedule too, so he can make sure to remind her and let her have that time. I also told her she could hang and practice piano if she wants. The kitties would love it.

I'm starting to wrap my OCD brain around the September kitchen issue. It gives us time to purge and clean. Well, we're working a lot, but still. We can take advantage of that time. Right? RIGHT?

Sigh.

I want my walls chopped up now.

But the contractor said it's not really livable so we'd be tortured longer.

Agh.

Anyhoo, off to pack.

Sigh

Well. That whole kitchen thing. Turns out the carpenters can't build in time to do our remodel now. Crap. If only we were willing to settle for ikea cabinetry. I'm sure it's ok, but this guy works with our buildings. He makes real cabinets from scratch. He knocks down walls. He knows exactly how to handle the co-op people so we don't get into any trouble.

And I picked out all of the appliances on sale. Hopefully they'll be back on sale in September. Likely, with Labor Day. Still. I'm type A. I need this done tomorrow morning. I could die tomorrow afternoon. 

Deep breath. 

Anyway. The weight battle continues. Yesterday and today I made a fantastic soup of cabbage, tomato, onion, garlic, celery, green pepper and chicken broth. And a jalapeno. We had that with salad. I dropped a hairball of weight. This hormone medication thing sucks. And I've been off for 5 months. Do I have 6 more months before it's gone? Do I really have to wait as long as I was on it for it to be gone? 

The good news is that I'm saving on groceries by starving. Actually, I'm getting used to hunger.  I make a big veggie juice for lunch and let it linger. Today I tried not to, but I had a protein bar too. I still think I'm on track. 

Lots of travel coming up. Hoping to maintain a low for me weight so I have space to work. 

I'm looking forward to the day when my system works again. 

Stress. Like a MFer

Wow. It's been busy. I should be in bed, but I'm surfing the intermallweb for kitchen appliances. We had been talking to a contractor for a few months, and the sh*t has been taking forever to nail down. We had been talking summer to completely overhaul the kitchen, including knocking walls down (city kitchens can be like closets, stuffy, hard to hear other rooms, and when the green bean casserole's burning, the smoke has little chance of escaping!)  It's a HUGE financial task, but why have I been saving all these years? We cook ALL the time. We love to cook. I have cancer. What the heck. I need a nicer kitchen.

So, homeslice, aka contract dude, emailed that he could book us in September.

Hold-the-damned-phone. WHAT. I have had my heart set on SUMMER. Which is officially now. I know, he's busy, schedules get filled... so instead of a scathing email from me, I asked hubs to do it. Guess what? He can start - um - right after July 4 weekend. WHICH IS IN A WEEK.

I'm totally down. Being Type A and Virgo, plus feeling like a ticking time bomb, let's roll.

Meanwhile, the financial burden, though I've adjusted to the idea over the past few months, has settled in my brain. I have a huge number in my head and I'm ok with it now.

But, the appliances.

Decisions.

I want good stuff. I have pretty good stuff now, but the fridge has been a mess. Had it fixed last fall. Still sucks. We also are installing a dishwasher. My first. Ever. And a wall mount microwave over the stove to help suck out the nasty fumes. We rarely microwave, but once in a while it does come in handy.

We're waiting on a new stove. Unless I can get a ridiculous deal. Which is possible, with the holiday coming up.

So, I'm surfing with my cash thinking cap on.  It's actually making me feel better about the money, because it's all stuff I need and want.

My dizzy spells? Better.

Had a few but each is less petrifying.

I went to a sub doc yesterday. Sub, as in substitute, and also as in subpar.

She basically told me I was pretty despite the fact that I am half of a certain race. She said that I probably didn't need my breast removed. I was about to lodge my shoe in her eyeball and tell her to also not remove that, but I needed to get through for my vitals and bloodwork.

I told a friend the story, and she saw the same exact Dr. Bitch. Years ago.

Time for a phone call to my regular doc. She was unavailable so I got this whore of a medical bitch.

Anyhoo, no time to sit in bad feelings.

Though, when I told her of my dizzy spells, she said "Well, that's normal!"  Normal for what? A kid on a sit n' spin? About that shoe in your eyeball...

Well, I've been stressed the fuck out, so much going on. Tomorrow is a day trip to a gig. The next day is an 8am gig. Given my instrument, I wake up hours before leaving so I can be sure that we are getting along well. Which means I'll have 2 hours sleep. Then, a birthday dinner way out in where-the-heck-Queens. But, we love our friend Eddie Pazant - saxaphone player extrodinaire, zen master, hilarity without borders, and up in smoke. So I will go. And smile. And put some glitter on. And hopefully not face-plant in the cake. Because I'm exhausted thinking about the weekend. Therefore, I will continue my shopping feast online instead of doing the sensible thing.

Also, my weight is stubborn. Doing all the right things. Methinks it's time for a change. Mix things up. Back to ye olde drawing board... but I am finally feeling a bit happy today for the first time in weeks. I hope this too shall not pass.

I thought I was dying last night...

I know. We're all dying.

Dinner last night. Totally enjoying daddy's day meal with hubby and daughter. Suddenly, the "feeling". Like nausea, cold sweat, impending death looming like an anxious salesman.

I couldn't imagine walking to the bathroom - which was down a flight of stairs. I could only imagine that I would stumble down the stairs and end up a bloody heap of limbs at the bottom. Tragic headline: Cancer Patient Ironically Dies From Restaurant Fall.  But the salmon was great.

I felt like my head had hung between my shoulders and knees for hours. I barely heard what was around me. I knew I felt ice on my neck, my daughters hand squeezing mine, hubby doing what he could very calmly.

Apparently, it was 5 minutes. I thought I was dying. For hours.

We have guesses as to what it could be. Got home in one piece. In my new and sweat soaked lacy dress. Thank goodness I'm a pro at walking in heels, 'eh?

Scared shitless for a bit. I can't lie. All I kept thinking was that I could NOT pass out. I did not want to be in an emergency room on Father's Day. Do you realize how many dudes would have knives sticking from their skulls, curling iron burns from angry daughters, frying pan contusions from jilted wives? No thanks, I'll die at home.

Much better today. Tonight, after dinner, I declared that my cycle would start at any second. My uterus was doing the angry dance. I also realized that, when I was preparing to wash my hair for a secret project tomorrow, that I had a crapload of grays again. So I ended up having to dye my hair with my hippie dippy natural hair dye (which actually is ok). Halfway through the waiting period, I got my period. How 'bout that? 4 days early, but I haven't really been on a schedule in, oh, over a year now... since the stupid pills.  But, I'm super crampy now (unlike last time which was a breeze). Let's hope I feel ok tomorrow - for the secret project. I actually don't know if it is a secret, but it's fun to act that way.

So, hair colored, nails are painted but a mess with the hair color (I tend to color hair a week before I need to look my best, but this snuck up on me!)... off to lay down and hang with hubs while I pretend my uterus isn't punching me from the inside.

Stupid Cancer. But, I'm grateful that my estrogen is making a comeback. Now, she should just calm down a bit and hang like old times!!!

Nightmares about lymphedema. Amazing hummus recipe.

It's been so busy in my career - been flying everywhere, tired but somehow I manage to workout more on the road than when I'm home. So, I've felt really good! And, I'm hovering at my pre-diagnosis weight. It's not easy staying there, but I'm surfing the wave. Yippee!

Nice to be home for a while before I get crazy again. Last night, though, hubby made it hard for me to sleep. The one thing that I've been getting good at. He had been feeling sick for a few days at least, and last night after his gig, we got home late, and he crashed. Unfortunately, before I did. You know when someone is sick and they are just louder sleepers? Well, I was thrilled that he was getting much needed sleep. I was too tired to get up for earplugs or even throw myself on the couch or my daughter's bed. I should have forced myself.

Ended up waking up for good at around 6:30 am. This, after getting home late and sleeping on and off for a few hours. *sigh*

Had a good workout anyway. Walked a bit. Came home to make hummus*. Cleaned up a bit, awaiting daughter for dinner. I am hoping to get to bed really early today... or at least reasonably so.

I had the craziest dream in my staggered sleep. I had freaking lymphedema. I looked at my hand in my dream because it felt weird. I had sausage fingers that I couldn't bend. My arm was huge (and not cool like Arnold!) I woke up completely frazzled. Glad it wasn't reality, but it does scare me.

*Hummus Recipe

Soak and cook dried organic chickpeas, or drain a can if you're feeling lazy.
Pulverize in a food processor or other vicious machine.
Add in organic olive oil - the real stuff. Check your source and watch out for the fake junk!
Season with Himalayan salt. Add cayenne to taste, if desired. Add other things too. This is the freedom recipe! Citrus, herbs, you name it!
Serve with chips, crudite, and love.

I'm not much of a measuring kind of gal in the kitchen. Taste until you love!

Getting better every day, but some days blow anyway. Is this the start of lymphedema?

Wow, it's been a while since I've blogged. Mainly, I've been busy. Traveling and working and, well, traveling and working. It's all good, but I'm TIRED!

I've been feeling better every day. My hormones are pissed still, and I tend to get 2 periods a month now. I got it last week and was on a business trip followed by a business trip. The second one had me worried, it had just started, and I literally was hemorrhaging like there was no tomorrow. I ended up asking one of the guys in the band to keep an eyeball on me, because I wasn't feeling great. I ended up not passing out, but wow. I can't believe that I could lose that much blood in a week, after losing that much 2 weeks prior. I made it, and I think it's passed. I guess there was a bit of back log - as this is the second time it's hit me like this.

Oh, Ms. Estrogen, I'm so sorry to have shunned you like I did for 10 months. I'm such a bitch.  I hope we can be friends again.

Meanwhile, it's been much easier to keep my diet in check. I'm actually better on the road - even living on someone else's dime, I stuck to basically 2 salads a day, some fruit and coffee and tea. The last night on the road there was no salad, but there was roasted chicken and veggies. I ignored anything with bread or sugar. I did have some fruit and goat cheese and told the amazing looking desserts to f-off. Some of my favorites too - carrot cake, pecan pie, chocolate something in a cup. The cheesecake I could easily flip off. The carrot cake is my best friend and enemy. I was actually really, really, really proud of myself for ignoring it. Yay, me.

One thing that helps is reminding myself that it's literally a moment of strange pleasure followed by the scale the next morning. And the bloating. And the sugar driven craving for more sugar. I like that I'm getting a grip on this. It's not foolproof, but I ain't a fool, and I know that I'd rather feel and look better than have a scrumptious piece of cake. Mmmm. Cake. STOP IT. Cake. STOP IT!!!  See? It worked!

My left arm has been a bit throbby for a while. I worry, but there's really not much I can do. I have my sleeves and gauntlets. Sometimes I'll try and rub my arm for circulation. Dry skin brushing hopefully helps, as I remember to do it more and more.

Going out of town again next week... we'll see how that flies, literally!

Hormones! Sea Cucumbers! Brain tumors... :(

They're totally back. I mean, it's interesting, because though they're back and starting to function again, I'm not suffering much pain or discomfort. Perhaps my body is grateful to regain it's youthful-ish-ness after the plug was pulled from ye olde estrogen via Tamoxigarbage. 

Though I did just make a cup of golden milk. A bit bloated, and I'm hoping that will bring it down a bit. Overall, not bad at all. Breathing. Had a good workout. Not as good as I would have liked, but considering the state of estrogen, I did just fine. 

My friend's wife had a brain tumor removed a few months back, and today she suffered a massive seizure most likely due to the brain tumor surgery she recently had. She's still unconscious.

Meanwhile, in the disgusting category, I've been taking SEA CUCUMBER!

Luckily, I have not been able to find it in any restaurants (that's a lie, I did find a Korean place that had it on the menu), and I even looked in Chinatown to see if I could buy it to cook. WHEW. No luck. So I found this. I can't lie - I don't know if it's the placebo effect, or the tamoxifen leaving the building, or whatever, but these slimy disgusting things have been making me feel better. And they are reportedly good for muscle aches, joints, energy, blahblahblah. I have felt markedly better since a few days into these, and didn't actually expect it. So, these absolutely horrific looking creatures just may save me!

We were talking about what to do for Mother's Day dinner. Maybe I'll ask the hubs if we can go to the Korean place so I can try it. Then again, perhaps I'll stick to what I like and save that adventure for a day filled with self-loathing and a need to punish myself. BLECH! Did I mention, I hate slimy things like worms and slugs and crap. Though, if you put a nice plate of escargot in butter, (in a French vibe, or black bean sauce in an Asian hang), somehow I find that totally acceptable and will go to town. Hm. Maybe I *would* be ok with these things.

Excuse me while I go puke.

Played a great gig, turned down a really great gig, death of a friends cancer patient husband.

Last night - had a great time at a gig at a fancy thing. Lots of rich folks who can't dance. Funny though, they didn't feed us. Which, in the end was very good for me - as I could control myself with a protein bar and coconut water which was in my bag. Hopped over to hubby's gig and enjoyed a refreshing and potent beverage. If I knew what was in it... but it did taste like pears and drunken smiles.

Tonight, I am missing an epic gig. Why? Because I was not right for it. It is funny, even just a few years back, I would have done it, put it on my resume, and hoped that nobody saw it (it's in an arena type setting, so chances are I'd be all over youtube etc. in my epic failedness). But I would literally have done it for the status. Why? The pay for this event sucked. And I would have missed other work that paid me about half of what this paid - the anxiety was through the roof when I got the tracks. It is GREAT music, the kind of shit that I would listen to on my own time. But, I'm not that player. The final straw was when they told me to make sure that I learned the part on a TOTALLY DIFFERENT INSTRUMENT. I own one, but heck if I've even taken it out of the case in, oh, 15-20 years. Yeah, not my gig.

Valuable lessons as an artist - never take a gig that is not meant for you. Ok, not never. But on an epic scale? You will not only chance ruining or at least tarnishing your reputation, but ruining someone's show! That is super suck-ass.

So, my very full resume - yes, it is nice - will stay as is. Am I mad? No. I'm so relieved. I decided to finally color my hair (my grays have quadrupled at LEAST since the tamoxifen). Hubs has another night at his gig - same as last night - I am on 4 hours of sleep so I decided a home-spa night was my best bet. And yes, my hair color is not a commercial one - it's plant based, and not perfect, but works well. I can't do granola 100% if it doesn't work!

So I sit here, my freshly colored hair wrapped in a towel, in my fuzzy robe, thinking about doing my nails (with natural polish, of course!) for Friday's gig since I have time. I need to do some cleaning, and my eyes are burning right out of my head from the lack of sleep with the pollen in the air, and I need to practice (still not recovered from the tamoxinightmare, so I have lots of work to do). We'll see. If I conk out in a couple of hours, then I will be a healthier person tomorrow. If I somehow stay awake for some reason, I will make it productive.

My weight... my weight has gone down a hairball, but my body has started to shift back to ME. Oh my goodness. I'm starting to get my waist back. I do NOT look good as a potato! On the meds, with my hormones screwed up, I saw a glimpse into my post-menopausal future - which I hope to experience SOMEDAY, and not now. It wasn't horrible, but I'm too young. Even though I haven't had gym time, things are shifting back. I actually look like myself again, more and more each day.

I'm half Japanese. So, this may be my aging process: 

A friend of mine lost her husband last weekend. I remember when she found out I had cancer. She got really quiet and teary eyed. Told me her husband also had cancer. He had a LOT of medical complications. To the point where things were coming out of places that they shouldn't (basically, he pooped out of his penis and had to get several colostomy bags - yes, it's a true story). But they loved each other and lived life to the fullest. Did he die from the cancer?

He fell into the subway tracks and got hit by a train.

I don't even know what to say to her - I had to miss the funeral because of my gig last night. Awful. I may get her some books to help her through her grief (Pema Chodron comes to mind, but if anyone else has an idea, please let me know). I am not a flower kind of girl - they make me sad. I'm not making her a casserole. I want to get her something that she can turn to for comfort, and while food IS comforting, I want it to have meaning.

I want to bring her husband back to her, but that's not likely. So, I can bring her comfort and love.

Life is short and unpredictable. Will this cancer kill me? Will a train? Will a lightening bolt? Who knows. So, you enjoy every moment, you don't take the inappropriate gigs, you love your life, and you bring the world some happiness, however you can.

Blood sugar, anxiety, happiness, kitchen redo.

I've been feeling so out of sorts recently.  A lot of things - good things, bad things, whatever. Been having enough anxiety to make me feel miserable at times. My blood sugar has been flip flopping, making me so zoned out and/or irritable that I hate myself at times. But, I'm oddly happy, deep down - always.

I can't figure out the blood sugar thing, except that my sugar cravings have taken a nosedive since the tamoxifen, which is good. And my body is shifting back to where it was. Also good. But my weight (number) has been stubborn, which wreaks havoc on my brain.

My musical stuff? The aftermath of the meds has lightened up a lot, but my brain can't come back. So, though I'm coming back physically to where I was before, if my brain isn't cooperating, then my chops can't. So, here I am. What a dilemma. I need a hypnotist. No, I'm not kidding. I need to be able to convince my brain, my heart, how I am who I used to be again. But, all I feel is incapable and anxious beyond belief. I don't show the outside world, but boy, I feel it inside. There are many, many times that I want to just quit. I anxiously do gigs and get through ok, though the "comeback" of my chops is hit or miss. I seem to worry more about the folks I love who hire me and their reputations, over my own. But, I believe, that so far I have not let anyone down enough to be an issue. I guess my game face is pretty good.

But the anxiety sucks balls.

So I breathe and try to make it to the other side. Sometimes I want to scream at the ego-driven folks around me, tell them that there is more to life than being cool. Because I feel far from it, but also, I know. I leave my mind as empty as I can (not too difficult most times) and try to make it through, so I can crawl into bed at night and try to breathe evenly and sleep instead of tool around on Facebook and play words with friends all night. My friends, apparently, tend to be night owls. Robot Chicken is often an excellent temporary solution to my anxiously filled brain. It seems to siphon out the worry and anxiety with bizarre, inappropriate laughter.

Also, had a consult with our kitchen contractor. I want my kitchen redone. ASAP. I don't want to die knowing that my kitchen will be gross forever for my family. This has been on my mind since diagnosis. Weird, no? We love to cook. We spend tons of time in there. So, we had our consult, all happy times... until I started realizing how much cash I'm talking about dropping. We're talking about ripping everything out - all new cabinetry, counters, knocking down some walls, new appliances. OH MY GOD. But, I don't want to wait until I can't enjoy it. We actually talked about that - how folks will fix up their homes in order to sell them. You mean, you have this gorgeous new stuff and it's all for the new owners? Screw that.

So I need to breathe deep and realize that this has been my desire for many years - pretty much since I had moved in. New, happy, light filled kitchen. I actually can technically wait on new appliances for a while, but at the same time, it would make sense to build around the new appliances. We looked at stuff today, and I know that technically I should invest in all of this. And, I will.

Crap.

It's a lot to think about, along with everything else.

However, if we do this ASAP, we can have a new kitchen by summer. And, I know from last years redoing the kitchen floor, it will change my life.

And how much life is left? Who knows. But, when I drop dead, hubby and daughter will be here. Then daughter. Her kids, if she changes her mind on that point. At least her cats. Blahblahblah. I own the apartment, and it's the kind of place that nobody moves out of. Hard to explain, but it's the truth.

Onward.

Girl Fats

Well, my Girl Fats is officially back.

Why would I call it that? My daughter's grade school offered an event called "Girl Facts" and we went when she was in the 4th grade.

When she handed me the form, she had crossed out the c in "facts". She said, "Mom, we don't want to go to this. That's insulting."

So we went.

As we entered, she was handed a slip of paper to write down any questions she had. Before the assembly, but I suppose that was to avoid the embarrassment of standing up and asking a question about menstruation. She wrote: "When can we leave?"

Yup. That's my girl.

Anyway, tummy has been iffy the past few days, so I knew it was around the corner. Hurrah for estrogen!

Of course, I'm starving, bloated, exhausted... need to go to the gym before hubs gets home in 2 hours. But all I can do it eat left overs and drink matcha tea that normally wakes me up, and all I want to do is nap.  I did wake up exhausted, and have had a very fully day thus far. Perhaps, even though I need the workout, it is better to nap. I get a date night with hubby tonight, and certainly would like to enjoy it! The past few date nights that we've managed to crush into our schedule have been on little sleep, or with the plague, or just a hug in passing. F that.

Ok, decision made. My hormones are telling me to lay down and close my eyes. Sheesh.  Girl fats, indeed. I guess tomorrow's workout will be double. Yeah... that's it... double.

New oncologist!

WOOO! We met with Oncology Contestant #3. Glad we didn't get to the swimsuit competition... but the doc talked to us about my case, about my decision to stop the tamoxifen, about my quality of life, family, career, and I do believe we have a winner! Plus, he loves good music.

He also said that my reconstruction was amazing. AMAZING. Made me smile. Because I think so too, given what we had to work with and how mangled and burnt it was.

I do believe my hormones are on a rampage today. Wicked cramps. Bloating. Got better as the day rolled on, and technically my period is *due* today. Of course, since I've been stuck on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, I don't know when the f*ck anything is happening. All I know is, I'm happy now that the awful meds are leaving my system. Still recovering, recuperating, and hoping that everything will function as it had been previously. But I can smile. Ain't that something?

A long week, back spasms on air, bad news from Champagne, Spring is finally in the air. Sort of.

It's been a crazy week. Gigging, including 2 tv shows. Today's show was interesting, as I breathed in to perform, my back seized up. I think it's overcompensating for my lacking lung power from this stupid plague. I think I made it to the end ok, though.

Heard from my love, Champagne Joy, that her cancer has come back, after 3 years on tamoxifen with all of the horrendous side effects. I'm so angry. At the medical community. At the pharmaceutical community. These pills torture us, and then she comes back with Stage 4 metastatic  which spread to her axilla, liver and bones. I mean, what the FUCK??? How do you even wrap your brain around that shit? A rarity - I'm speechless. All I can do is send love.

Deliriously tired on this gorgeous day. The sun is shining like mad. And all I want to do is lay down and sleep... but... a) my hair and makeup look amazing from the gig b) hubby is on his way home from his gig c) I haven't seen the sun like this in months. So, I'm enjoying the coffee that I had abandoned earlier this morning and am going to try and power through.

Because I'm alive today. Who knows if I'll wake up tomorrow. I need to breathe in the universe. Hopefully my back won't spasm again!

9 cloves of roasted garlic on a piece of toasted Ezekiel bread with freshly ground himalayan salt and pepper , and of course, a few generous dashes of hot sauce.

Why?  WHY?

Actually, it is quite delicious. Especially after my fever peaked at 105. Yes, degrees. That was yesterday.

I actually got up, showered, dressed, put on makeup, and looked at my daughter and said "I need to get back to bed. Wake me by 7:15". Hubby looked at me at 7:10 when my internal clock started bugging out, and said "NO WAY. Get back to bed." Mind you, hubby has had the plague for a week. Bad. He probably also tipped the thermometer at 105. But he took her to school. Because I must have looked like a corpse.

Been doing the usual fixes and am so glad to have made lots of soup throughout the hubby's plague. It probably helped me keep it as together as I could until it just said "Stop this shit, lady, and sleep!"

Kombucha, essiac, water, coconut water, matcha today for a little energy, lots of homemade soup, and fruit. Man, what is it with fruit? When you're either knocked down with the plague or even just a cold, or recovering from surgery - FRUIT is the only thing I consistently can stomach. Our favorite right now? Persimmons. I hated them until now. Why? Because I was told to only eat them when they're super squishy soft. Ugh. It's like the best vomit, ever. I decided to buy some the other day, unsquishified. Yum? Totally hooked. Super sweet - and chock full of good stuff.

So, here we are. Not well, but not bad. I've been skating on the edge of being sick with him sick, but luckily we went in phases to take care of each other. We're like the worst ice skating duo, ever. Nothing is in sync, but at least we're here for each other. *cough* *moan*

Yeah, the moaning. It got so bad a few times. I couldn't move. I just could barely moan. And it reminded me of my mom. From the time I was 10 until she passed away (I was 18) I remember many, many many of those moments being in moaning. I always felt bad for my mom, but I had no idea what she had been feeling to emit such noises. Even when she thought nobody could hear.

I made those noises after surgeries. Note that I do not do well on pain meds, so I simply forego the strong ones.

And during my bout with the plague, I made them. Yesterday - a lot. Hubby was not in the bedroom a lot and I think I now know why. Because nothing could really help me, other than the meds he kept trying to force feed me. I may take something tomorrow to get through my day, but today? I felt like I needed to feel my pain, so as not to push too hard. So I did some moaning again today. But it was a little better. Tomorrow, I have to get back to life, so let's hope my body and brain cooperate.

All I want for Easter is Metabolism

... because Christmas is too far away!

Had an electrifying acupuncture session. Always welcome, even the uncomfortable ones.

My body is freaking nuts. Still pain. Still weight problems. But still, way better than life on the tamoxipoison.

Let's hope that I'll bounce back. My skin definitely looks better - more alive. Everything hurts less.

I hope it does come back and perhaps can make up for lost time. I refuse to go up a size. Unless I turn into a seam splitter. Nothing more irritating than a person clearly wearing 2 sizes too small. Please, don't ever let that happen. Yes. You can call me Seam Splitter if I dismiss your honesty. Then I'll know you're for real!

Bitter apricot seeds for "dessert". At least it makes my appetite take a nosedive!

Freaking Starving

I assume that this feeling is a good thing - perhaps my metabolism is revved, but I still am battling my tamoxifat. Ok, I'm small. But it doesn't help when folks say "But you look great!" and "I'd love to have your weight problems". Yeah, it is a problem when you eat a piece of fruit and gain 3 pounds.

But, this ravenosity is giving me hope... perhaps my system will catch up and realize that I am able to eat again. And I'm allowed to burn it again.

Woke up this morning with crazy vertigo. Literally, I got up at 6, started to get ready, and by 6:15 was holding onto the kitchen counter to keep myself from falling. My daughter walked in the kitchen and I told her to get me up at 7. The room was spinning, but when I laid down it was cool. I have been taking some new stuff and perhaps my body is not quite used to it yet. Or, it's the toxins saying bye bye. Whatever. I'm still better off than I was a couple of months ago.

Wow. I am not used to that. It's not fun. Got up at 7 and proceeded to force myself to get ready. Out and about, by 10 or so I felt closer to safe. But I stopped home around 1 and realized that all was not right, still. Popped a session in the massage chair, asked hubby who had just landed from his trip to Gua Sha me. Now, it was only about 10 minutes, but the relief it brought was immeasurable. I don't think the marks are too dark, and I hope we'll fit another session in soon. Some folks are so freaked out by Eastern Medicine, but I will say this :  It is fucking magical.

When I returned home again, 3 hours later, hubby said I really looked better. See? Magic.

Booked my new oncologist for next month - let's hope the third time is a charm! Hey, at least he knows our track record with the other 2... maybe he'll get to chat with the docs we love and realize that we are not numbers, or medical charts, or a missing breast and lymph, or just another woman with cancer. I am me, my family is my family, my life is my life, and HALLE-LOOOOOOO, I want to enjoy it all.

Innnnteresting

Had a lovely weekend. Yesterday, slept in, a good workout with hubs (it seems I do better at the gym the earlier it is) but of course, there is also the regression of side effects helping. They tend to rear their stupid tamoxiheads as the day wears on. But, overall? Much better.

Met some friends for a beer or more. I had a sip of hard cider and then realized how hight the sugar content must be! Crap. Hubby was a champ and finished it off. What a guy... I mean, I'm sure it wouldn't kill me, but I don't need any help in that arena. Really enjoyed the conversation and the No BS that was ever present. Been dropping folks for the BS factor. Life is super short, and BS makes it suck.

Went home and decided that we hadn't had a date night in a long time! Went for amazing Ethiopian Food - I love that slop. And I say it lovingly. It truly is gourmet piles of slop. And we get to eat like wild animals, in public!! Yum.

Stopped off at a favorite club for a drink - hubby plays there a lot so the owner bought a round - they know me well, and I can afford the sugar there because it's always well worth it. Basically, I always want something girly and fruity. Back to my non-drinking roots, now with alcohol. Sipped on some wondrous drink involving muddled fruit, champagne, some other liquor that is apparently making a comeback, and a zest of orange. They asked if I wanted another, and I asked hubby if he wanted to carry me home.

Today, hubby got up really early for the gym, and I had planned on going but couldn't motivate. I started my new meds last night, and it was super interesting. Made me calm, a bit sensitive, and apparently, sleepy. He left and I think I managed to say goodbye. Slept longer. Woke up in a panic because it got so late! But, I am positive that I needed it. Had my usual bevy of weekend beverages - pureed lemon rinds with purified water, a big swig of apple cider vinegar, a shot of soursop juice, and a large espresso (ok, it's the espresso pot - don't judge me!!!) with coconut oil and spices and a dash of almond milk. And the newest addition - Manuka Honey. Yeah, it's sugar, but I keep reading about it in conjunction with kicking cancer's ass. A teaspoon definitely won't hurt.

I got the esteemed "Nod of Approval" from a doc regarding my tamoxistop!

Had some very intense acupuncture early yesterday morning (man, I'm glad I still have some Qi after all of this crap!) followed by a visit to my Radiation Oncologist. It's been a year since I had him burn the crud out of my foob. Time flies when you're enraged on bad meds!

We told him that I stopped. We told him that I wanted to kick my oncologist in the head because she doesn't listen. She memorizes books. Like the other oncologist who got the boot (unfortunately, not to the head, either).

I wish they had a match.com for doctors. That way, you could type in your likes, dislikes, and find a doctor who is compatible. Bring on Contestant #3...

I did ask my radiation dude if he'd just be my oncologist. Yeah, it's not his job, but he looked over my chart and though I had three tumors, they were Well Differentiated. Plus, I am doing so well on my diet since getting off the poison. Because, now, I'M responsible. It was easy to make excuses on the meds for my diet- emotionally and , well, I'm taking the meds so I am not as responsible if the cancer returns or travels. Yeah, now it's all me, my body, my mind. Om. He really thinks the pros in NO WAY outweigh the cons for me. It basically ended my life. I hated me. I'm starting to dig me again.

So, I sit here eating graviola fruit like a wild animal because I'm home alone. Well, my cats are here. This is what we refer to in our house as "Secret Single Behavior". You can stand at the kitchen sink in your skivvies or less and eat popcorn from the pan in which it popped. You can drink a protein shake from the blender. Ok, we do that stuff sometimes when it's just us adults, but really - it's hysterical and convenient.

My brain is so messed up, as is my body. I know I've been detoxing for just a month, and I've enjoyed many improvements thus far, but shoot - I'm ready to be me. 100%. Now.

Had a very hard time working out - hubby has been tense for many reasons, and that combined with my unpredictability. I nearly passed out while getting ready to go, and had to lean on the table to get my head together. Not sure what it was, but I've been very weak in the legs. It feels hormonal, and I guess that makes sense. But it's annoying. I'm trying to live clean, eat clean, and sleep seems to be key. I know. Patience. It's like when people tell women who gave birth that it took 9 months to put the weight on, and it will take 9 to take it off. I had no patience for that. 5 weeks. So, yeah, I can see how my impatience would screw with my head on this one. You can't force toxins out of your body.

Been dry skin brushing, apple cider vinegaring, detox tea-ing, exercising, sleeping, clean eating, just need to be patient. I should be meditating more. I do it simply when I lay down for bed, but sometimes I'm so beat that I conk out. I guess that's ok, but I think more mindful meditation would probably be beneficial, in addition to conking out.

Speaking of sleep, hubs is playing late tonight. I haven't made it out much to hear him, and it's not my favorite venue, but I feel like my leg muscles are made of ropes that are about to snap off of the bones they are attached to. That's the best way I can describe the hormonal legs. I literally want to reach into my calves (more than quads or hamstrings) and just pull the strings out. Throw them away. They feel useless. But, I'm not a surgeon, or a freak, so I'll leave my muscles alone. Perhaps a massage tomorrow is a better idea.

Graviola/Soursop... straight from the tree. Ok, the market. Whatever.

So, my friends in Brooklyn found... Graviola! Soursop! Whatever you want to call it. Cancer Killer!

I buy the liquid version, and it tastes like it could use a splash of rum and a small umbrella (and a man in a thong to deliver said beverage). But, I drink it in the morning after my lemon water, and my swig o' raw unfiltered apple cider vinegar. This morning, I tried adding the vinegar to my lemon water with a bit of himalayan pink salt and nearly vomited. It was suggested by a friend. Yeah, we're still friends... *shudder*

Anyway, I received 3 gorgeous fruits last night with 2 bags of dried leaves which you can apparently make a tea from. After dinner, I sliced the ripe one open and am amazed at the ridiculous deliciousness of it. I guess the juice isn't far off from the taste. I still could use a bit of rum, and Speedo Boy (please, let him be my husband - though I'm fully against the Speedo concept, he sure would look good in one...)

Even my daughter liked it. I called her in from homework duties to try it because I was so excited! She loves fruits, especially mangos and certain melons etc. This is tropical paradise. And, whether or not it kills cancer, I love it.  But I will go on believing that it does. Docs won't agree - nothing kills or affects cancer except for the poison. Yeah, take your poison and shove it up your collective over-schooled asses.  It's a fruit. It's yummy. If I die from cancer, let me die with yummy fruit in my belly.

Back to my cancer. I'm still detamoxifying. And, apparently, I've invented a new word. Bloating, hunger, extremes from elation to depression. Hyper then barely able to keep my eyes open. Ah. The joys of trying to regain my health after 11 months of death pills. But, I am so much happier, even in moments of non-goodness, compared to any tamoxifen moments. So there's that!  YIPPEE!

The one thing that tells me that my body is trying, my period is sort of back. It started like a joke on Friday, I believe...? It's still here. Still laughable, but enough to warrant the mini-pad (of course, the hippie kind without chemicals!)

I get to see my radiologist on Thursday after acupuncture. Should I punch him in the teeth? Nah. He's  a good dude. He'll most likely be proud of me for sticking to the tamoxifen for 11 months, which is way more than my initial reaction. Perhaps I should have followed my bloated gut, but at least I did give it a very fair shot. And it shot me down.  So what. I can either mourn the time lost in those bottles, or look forward to regaining ME. Hey, guess what? I think I like me. I missed me! I'm coming back!

Blog from the bike

Yeah. I am blogging from the exercise bike at the gym. Woke up after much more sleep than I'm used to, but my body begged me. It was pathetic, really, so I just said "ok" and went with it. 

I've been feeling this teeter totter of detoxing. Feeling amazing, then toxic, then amazing. The good thing is that the toxicity I'm experiencing is not like before. It feels like a purge. It doesn't feel like taking poison on top of poison. Graphically speaking, it feels like food posioning might when you're expelling the offender. 

So, hubs was ready to go to the gym and I hadn't been here in 6 days - so I grabbed my new copy of THE GOOD FIGHT by Greg Holmes and Katherine Roth. 

Why am I typing instead of reading? I need a break. Every other page makes me cry. Not what I need in public. Yeah, it's human, but I don't want sweaty strangers with their leftover brunch sweat and horrific pheromones hovering. So, I put it down until I am composed again. A highly recommended read, and I'm not too far in. It's a doc and a psychiatrist couple so it's not written by some quack guru who lives in a refrigerator box and prescribes eating the antennae of roaches. They are real people and professionals. With a child. And cancer. And are unwilling to die by conventional cure. 

Anyway, my metabolism is being a bitch, but I also almost have an actual period right now. We're referring to it as a "code orange". I don't actually need a pad, liner is doing just fine, but it's encouraging and a bit of relief in a bizarre way. Cramping. And no, I am not taking an Advil. I'm breathing and taking turmeric and krill and hoping for the best. I've done enough damage to my temple. The shit needs a cleaning crew, not just a sweep under the already filthy rug. Ah. Breathing through pain. 

Ok. I have recovered emotionally from the last 2 pages that made me whimper and wipe tears away in a place when I'm usually super badass. Back to work!

Little House on the Acupuncture Table

Saw my main acupuncturist today after 3 weeks... yes, I haven't seen her since I stopped taking the poison.

I walked in and immediately heard, "Holy crap, you look terrific!!!"

Ok, my outfit was cute, but I had a huge puffy fatty down coat on. It wasn't that.

It was me. My glow. She said that for many months she saw a layer of ick on me. I'm not recalling the correct word, but ick works for me. I laid on the table and we talked about my disappearing symptoms. I did have 2 hot flashes last week but it's normal when getting off meds to have a rehashing of symptoms. My weight is the same but I'm consuming more calories. But I feel different, like my body is shifting back into it's old shape. I feel stronger and more like me. Sometimes I look in the mirror and think "I don't look like the same weight as last week, but I am". But I see the shift in balance. I see my body fat percentage on the scale go down. Obviously, that's good.

So I start getting needled. A lot of vocalization, as I always feel certain points. She left the room, and I swore there was a needle in my left arm (the missing lymph one) on my pericardium meridian, which she confirmed when I told her and showed her.

As I got dressed, I was laughing to myself about the fact that while laying there, I was hearing the theme song to Little House on the Prairie.

I told her in passing as we booked for next week, and she said "Huh. Pericardium relates to childhood". Wow. That was deep. She hit my Laura Ingalls tsubo!!!  Crazy. Like, seriously.

Hubs just asked what we were giving up for Lent (kidding, of course). I told him Tamoxifen! I've got a head start!!!

My Uterus Kicked my Ass

Not really. But Saturday night, after a glorious organic meal out, we walked to our favorite jazz club. I had felt it cramping up at dinner. It wasn't the food - it was all clean and I didn't have any wheat (except for a half bite of an empanada, and it was glorious!)  It's my hormones. Now that I'm starting to get some estrogen back, and my period was technically due yesterday, my uterus is basically saying, "WHYYYYY???"

So, as the night progressed, I became more and more in pain. I mean, I thought I might give birth on the street. To an alien. With 6 heads. And he would literally chew his way out with 6 sets of ridiculously razor sharp fangs. Because he hates me.

Hubs said we should get a cab but I could not imagine getting into a seated position without my water breaking. So we hobbled.

Got home. Made very strong golden milk. Hubs drew me a hot bath.

Woke up the next morning - FINE!

Oh, hormones. I'm so sorry that I took that stupid tamoxifen for 11 months. That was dumb of me. I knew better. I didn't want to take it to begin with. I felt myself turning psychotic. I felt the pain. I knew when I developed osteopenia before the doc told me. I was not trying to kill myself, but, that's what I was doing.

So, I'm fluctuating. Yesterday, we went to the gym. I ended up going to get cupped. Google if you're not in the know. Stars do it. Smart people do it. And hey- even I do it! Been having this done on and off for many, many years. I love it. It brings a huge sense of pain relief. My marks are not particularly dark, which is good. But it felt so relieving. I may try and go again this weekend. As long as no gigs that require strappy dresses are on the menu, I'm cool with the marks! Mine aren't even that dark. I've had times in my life where they've been nearly black. TOXICITY!

I'm going through hormonal ups and downs, for sure. I'm STARVING. All the time. But, for the most part, I'm being very good. Perhaps I'm indulging in more calories than I should, but my body is asking for energy. I'm being way better than I've ever been, and that's saying a lot. And, I'm happier than I've been in, well, 11 months.

I'm back. I'm like a light with a short in it, sometimes I blink off, sometimes you have to shake me up to get me to light again. But, I'm back. I can't wait until I'm 100% back.

I just built a huge kitty condo. It's a belated Christmas/Valentine's Day gift for the kitties. Our 12 year old loves to climb up the metal ladder to the top bunk and hang. But to jump down? He literally jumps down. I'm so worried about his old bones, so this thing actually reaches that top bunk. Yikes! Their old condo is tiny. It's like the difference between having a 2 story loft space and maids quarters.  Yes, I sang the Jefferson's Theme as I built it. A deee-luxe apartment in the skyyyyyyyyy!

I have so much to do, but I'm so excited!

Hubby is on his way back home from far, far away! I should be cleaning! Making dinner!

I just went out to get new batteries for our scale (God forbid I don't know my weight on a daily basis - I have NO CLUE what I was this morning... and it sounds neurotic, but I've been so out of touch with my body and it seemed to not react to my actions on the meds, so now it's time to figure out how I can make the scales tip in my favor!) and scored some adorable leftover Valentine's Day bamboo. Heart shaped. Yay, after-holiday-sales!

I feel super achy tonight. Actually a bit all day. Time to make some golden milk. Hopefully he'll be exhausted enough to want to just crawl into bed. I'm not sure I can handle more, but the turmeric might make me feel better. Maybe some magnesium too. My muscles feel crampy. F'ing healing crisis. But hey - I'd rather be here than crying on the tamoxifen. F'ing tamoxifen.

So, off I go to make golden milk, put new batteries in the scale, do a last minute clean up, and hopefully hug my man soon. A week? I have never been with someone that I've really missed after a week. Though, I am also good with the time apart, because for once, there is real trust, real love, and hey - bring home the nitrate free organic free range bacon!!!

Here's hoping that my aches and pains go away soon... it's also raining... that never helps. xo

Healing Crisis

Woke up this morning with a rash on my cheek. Usually that kind of thing (very rare for me) is a sign that something is trying to get out. Nasty food, maybe nasty meds!

Been super clean on my diet (except for half a glass of wine at night, I need something!) Supplements... lots of water... trying to flush it out, literally!

Each day is better. My eyesight is still a disaster in the evening (now!) and I truly hope that I can regain my sight. Really? Women go freaking blind on tamoxifen. They lose their teeth. Why again is this recommended?

Speaking of teeth, had a panorex for mine today. Just in case my choppers start falling out of my head, so they can rebuild and hopefully save my career. Yeah. It's deep. But the techie said that they looked great, though wobbly. Perhaps I stopped the poison in time. My hip? Spine? Still painful. But my jaw is WAY better, and that is more important right now. The rest will come in time. Just keep taking that raw calcium, doing all of those things I do. I don't talk about faith a lot, because I get a bit ticked when people are "praying" for me and "Everything will be ok" or "It's God's will" etc. Um, really? God decided to kill my mother when I was a teen? I think not. But I have faith in the universe, that if I follow my instincts and research and think outside the Big Pharma box, I can be healed. Safely.

God's Will. My missing boob and radioactive body and fried brain cells and osteopenia are not anyone's will. If they were, then I would lose all faith in the kindness of the universe.

Anyhoo, back on track here. Healing crisis. Please let it happen quickly. My system is a bit out of wack, to say the least. So, let's get this done with and give me back my bone density, my skin clarity, my brain cells, my eyesight, my metabolism, and my sanity. Which, amazingly, is coming home to mama. Of course, there wasn't much to begin with, but I feel more level headed. Like I won't tell some stranger to f*ck off on the sidewalk and get killed.  Yippee!!!