Team DeAnne

Usually, I wake up in the mornings with whatever operatic aria or piano piece I was working on before falling asleep the night before.  But this morning, for some reason, I kept hearing that old song by one of those hard-rock bands…Ac-DC or something…

As I sat in my hammock, drinking tea and eating greens and rice porridge, I kept hearing snarling guitars and a high-pitched guy screaming, “BACK in BLAAAACK!”

I went for my run and kept hearing it!  What the heck?!   Usually when I start getting fatigued, I start hearing samba and Afro-Cuban rhythms as I run…Boom-chucka chucka Boom, down the road!  But this endless loop of “Back in Black”?  Could this be a subliminal message?!

Aside from that, all’s normal…I’ve spent the weekend practicing, sorting out that mess that I call home, and figuring out my fall teaching schedule.  My energy is good, and even though I have to go for my 3-month check-up with my oncologist this coming Friday, and I really don’t want to get poked again in the arm for a blood test, I’m also sort of looking forward to gloating about how great life is.  Heheheh!

No more sad, sick pathetic girl!

And I can thank him for saving my life!

Well, many people have been part of the team that helped me kick cancer’s ass.  But he reassured me when I was scared, and with his medicine has given me the best chance of never having to have cancer again!

When I used to wear my little red wig, I’d always announce to the doctor’s staff when I’d arrive for appointments that I was “back and redder than ever”.  I enjoyed saying that, because it sounded almost like “better than ever”, which is not what you’d expect of someone under-going chemotherapy, usually…

But now the wig is hanging on a hook in the closet of my spare bedroom.  I’m no longer a redhead.  My hair is growing in sort of sable brown for now.   And I’m BAAAAACK!  (But I seldom wear black…)

I was at the gym one morning a few days ago.  I’m in the habit of wearing a cap when I work out.  I’m so used to wearing the wig, and when I don’t, it’s cold!!!  At the gym this one morning though, a really tough triathlete type of lady asked me, “What’s with your hair?  We all know you’ve done chemo.  Why are you hiding your head?!  You should be proud of being a SURVIVOR!!!!!”

I stammered something about being cold, and protection from sunburns, etc.  But then I thought about it.  That wig that I usually wear, so that I don’t look so obviously sick, and thus traumatize the kids I work with, is starting to go bald!  I have another wig, a long curly auburn one, but it’s itchy and I look sort of trailer-trashy in it.  So, I came home from the gym, took a shower, and ventured out into the world, looking a bit like a noble savage.  The new hair is about 1/8 inch long all over, light brown and NOT AT ALL CURLY!  Everyone said I’d have curls!  I’ve always wanted curls, but really, for now I’ll take what I can get!  After all, it was just a few weeks ago that I was telling myself that if I could just have some eyebrows and eyelashes, I could get over being bald.  Well, the eybrows and eyelashes are back to normal.  Now I’m greedy.  Or is it not too much to ask after all these months to have hair?

Sort of like when I was newly diagnosed and scared out of my mind, I decided to pretend to be healthy, and suddenly I felt better.  Well, now I’m going ot pretend to that all’s right with my hair! 

Saturday, I took my nephew to the Gravenstein Apple Fair, sans wig.  We gobbled up tons of fun food, threw darts, listened to a country band, and played in the jumpy house…I got a few funny looks.  But not the sad, pitying glances I used to get.  Maybe people are trying to figure out what the deal is with me…I’m told that aside from my hair, I appear robustly healthy.  i don’t look like a cancer patient anymore.  And I don’t look like a British rock star.  (Not hip /edgy enough.)  I dress too conservatively to be a punker.

On Sunday, I went with a dear friend to “Osmosis”, a spa where we had enzyme baths!  Of course I didnt’ wear the wig.  And when we went to lunch I didn’t wear it either!  As the spa attendent burried us up to our necks in enzymatic cedar chips, we agreed that perhaps world leaders should come to this place and take enzyme baths before they declare war…after tea and meditation in the japanese style garden, and being burried in warm wood chips, no one feels like fighting anymore!  In fact, if we’d been run over by a bus in the parking lot, we were so zenned out that we would have smiled and wished the bad driver a  lovely day!

As my friend and I sat in the garden at the spa, in our japanese yukata robes, we tried to meditate.  But bothof us have the attention span of gnats.  “Look!  a Dragon fly!” 

“OOOO!!!!”

“Shhhh!”  (hissed by another visitor, who wished to meditate.)

We were quiet, and sort of meditative, but we kept sneaking peeks at eachother and for some unseen reason, cracking eachother up.  As the butterflies swooped over the koi pond and the breeze rustled the gingko and bamboo, my friend informed me that even though I couldn’t pull off the British Punker diva image, I sure could pass for a Buddhist nun!  The ferocious meditator was getting upset again, so I didn’t say anything, just looked at my friend who is like my sister from another mister, and raised one eyebrow. 

“Shush!  Have some respect!!!”  the grumpy guy said. 

I tried not to laugh, and I could feel my whole face straining with the effort!!!  I gazed out at the pond, and closed my eyes, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from cracking up.  As I sat quietly, everything funny that ever caused me the least bit of mirth over the course of my life came flooding back to my mind.  My shoulders shook with silent laughing convulsions.  My friend fixed me with a mock glare, and affected a pose of solemn, dignified contemplation…. until her stomach let loose a roaring growl.  We started howling with laughter at that point, a pair of laughing Buddhas.

“Jesus Christ!” snarled the earnest seeker. 

“Don’t you mean…Buddha?!”  I asked. 

He started cracking up too.  In a good way.  Perhaps laughter is just as valuable as meditation!  Amidst great cheer and humor, we excused ourselves and laughed our way out of the spa and into a really cool little landmark bakery, after which I ate my whole loaf of bread for dinner that night, and couldn’t fit my hydration belt on my run the next morning!  It’s hard to believe that I used to be so scared of my diagnosis that i couldn’t eat! 

All is slowly returning to normal, but with a little more sparkle.

It’s been a nice, lazy summer.  Really, it’s the perfect time of year to recover from chemo.  My teaching schedule is much lighter during the summer, so there’s plenty of time to take naps in the hammock.  I’ve read countless books, stayed in touch with old friends, and had a pretty relaxing time of it. I went to visit my bother and sister-in-law and their new baby, did some camping and even spent a day boogie boarding with my nephew.

  I’ve been able to gradually start acting like myself again.  I’ve resumed my singing lessons and have set up a full teaching schedule for the fall, complete with studio events.  I’m back to the gym.  I have a quarter of an inch of fuzz on my head, and still wear the wig when I have to look nice.  But sometimes I forget that I’m wearing a wig.  When other people look at me funny, trying to figure out if that hair that’s so coiffed compared to the rest of me is real or not, I find myself looking back at them like “What are you looking at?!”  Then I remember…oh, but it’s temporary!  (I’ve never been able to rock the bald look…my head is a bit cone-shaped…good for singing high notes, and for looking like a space alien!)  My voice had gone on hiatus during treatment, due to a chronic hoarseness, and I was afraid it would be altered forever.  Now that I’ve recovered, though, it seems to have settled in and become even a bit more manageable.  My formerly squeaky coloratura soprano voice has a new depth and warmth to it, and the high notes are even easier.  Part of that is due to my excellent teacher’s ongoing efforts on the behalf of my technique, and some of it’s due to a new and improved attitude!  I can start thinking about fun possibilities and opportunities to sing again!  And I’ve started running…gradually increasing the mileage, adding in a bit of gentle speedwork, and yet staying light-hearted about it!  Here’s a little snapshot of me and my life, After Cancer:

Yesterday, 5:00am:

I’m not a fast runner, but I take it seriously.  I enjoy the ritual of it.  I never just roll out of bed and go.  My true warm up is to sit on the heater vent with a cup of hot tea, contemplating my plans for the day.  I make sure I’m suitably attired…watch on, shoes laced up just so, all-natural mineral sunscreen without cancer-causing parabens and pthalates on, water and band-aids in my hydration pack.  And, I EAT!  I don’t know how anyone can run on an empty stomach!  I eat hefty breakfasts, too!  Oatmeal with flax seeds, fruit, tea, and steamed veggies, and sometimes an egg…  

Anyhoo, even with my tummy full, I still have this strange propensity for eating things that grow on the side of the road.  This time of year it’s hard for me to keep moving forward when every glance sideways brings me visions of fresh apples, sparkling with morning dew, grapes beckoning to me from the vines and assorted yummy berries that are only ripe for a short time—I’d better eat’em now!  The sight of a vendor setting up to sell cherries sets me off into an absolute conniption of joy and rhapsodizing!

  The Herd, my gaggle of running friends, are mystified and sometimes amused by my tendency to eat things from the side of the road.  “Thank God you’re a vegetarian!”  “Yeah!  And one of these days, if she starts snarfing on roadkill, she’s really on her own!”  

Well, the other morning I was running solo.  I was at the park near my house where there’s a sweet little trail through a marshland.  In the summertime, it’s filled with blackberries.  Some of them are the size of golfballs.  Needless to say,  I was in Pig Heaven!  They say that sometimes when people are terribly ill, they will hang on for a few months to see the next major holiday or birthday…or the birth of a child…that’s all good, but I’d hang in there to be able to go out to the park and eat sunshine-warmed blackberries right off the vine!  Is there anything better?!  I can’t be sure of this, but I think heaven is filled with blackberry bushes.  These berries at the park, in particular,  taste so good that my eyes close..Yum!  Sigh! 

But no, yesterday I told myself,  this day I would stay on the path, and run hard.  My first tempo run since before the chemo!  I headed out to the trail with my watch and my hydration pack, meaning to do some business!  But then I saw the berries!  Oh my god!  Blackberries from heaven!  (And receeding deeper and deeper into my mind was “You have just twenty minutes to run a bit harder than usual before you have to get back home and take a shower and teach!  Now GO!  Are you gonna be a happy ass or a sorry one?!…or a saggy one!”)  But that voice got smaller and smaller, as I trudged on, fighting the urge to dive for those berry bushes like a starving eagle for its prey!

And then in mid-stride, I had an epiphany!  I thought to myself, “Shoot!  I just lived through chemo.  These berries are only so perfect for a short time each year.  I’m gonna eat me some berries!  I was given an excellent prognosis, so the tempo run can happen some other day.  Ye-e-e-esss…one more rest day of easy running is probably good…with all this rest and good sustenance, I’ll run like a deer tomorrow, instead.”

Then, as I munched two-fistedly, I heard footsteps on the other side of the bushes.  I peered around them only to come face to face with a mama deer and her two little Bambi fawns!  They looked lazily at me, and then resumed eating.  So did I!  The sunshine was warm on my back, the air smelled like flowers, and i shared a few moments of genial comradery with the deer, not to mention what was probably their first and my second breakfast for the day!  Talk about communing with Nature!  Wow!   

After a few minutes, the deer pranced off, and so did I, running a little faster than usual, because I still wanted to get all my mileage in AND eat my blackberries too!  And I ran faster than I did before chemo, my spirit bolstered by my close encounter with other life forms and by blood sugar soaring with blackberry juice. 

If we are all the heros and heroines of our own stories, it’s sort of fun to think of what the title might be.  I think of the old movie “Dances With Wolves”…mine would be “Eats with Deer”…

They say that when someone goes through cancer, they are forever changed.  They come back better, stronger, more compassionate, and healthier than ever before.  Lance Armstrong wrote that a fellow cancer patient once told him that people who experience cancer, in a wierd way, are the lucky ones.

I’m not sure if I feel blessed, lucky or better in any way due to having had cancer.  Do I?!   

Well, let’s see…I do feel braver.  I am a bit more compasssionate.  Like my mom said, someting she learned through this whole thing is that you never know whaat someone else has just been through, is going through, or is about to go through, so we all just have to cut eachother some slack.  OK, so maybe compassion is there, too.

In my singing lesson last week, my teacher was very happy to tell me that I’m sounding better than before the cancer regarding certain techniques.  I no longer tense up on the high notes!  Well, after going through chemo, losing my singing voice for a few months and wondering if I’d ever sound OK again,  it makes me think, “What’s the big deal?  It’s just a high note!” For that matter, everything is more fun when I don’t let myself get all tensed out!  When I’m stuck in traffic, I take the moment to run little mental memory checks on the arias and songs I’ve been memorizing.  (It’s amazing how much easier I can memorize repertoire, now that I no longer have to nap during the day!)

If I don’t get my run in early, it’s no longer a reason to kick myself and feel like a slacker…I’ll just go at night and enjoy watching the fog coming in over the hills.   yes, I normally prefer to run inthe morning.  So?!  After several months of barely being able to run at all, I’ve learned to be flexible enough to enjoy the things I love when the opportunity strikes!

I have energy again!  We had our annual family camping trip last weekend, and even though I look funny still, what with my brindled hair that still looks too many like baldness, I no longer act like a sick girl!  I ran through the sand dunes and along the beach during my stay there, and hiked through the tide pools that afternoon.  The only thing, aside from the weird hair, taht would cause anyone to think I have a health issue was the way I eat.

I follow sort of a modified macrobiotic diet.  Modified, in that I still eat eggs about once or twice per week, for Vitamin B!  And I eat some fruit, which I love after a run.  The rest of the time I eat lots of whole grains and steamed and stir-fried veggies, miso soup with seaweed, fancy mushrooms, and green tea.  It helps me feel balanced and healthy!  But it still hits me that I eat like someone who’s had the scare of a lifetime.  When we were camping, my nephew and nieces couldn’t believe i wouldn’t eat even a single marshmallow.  Partly this was because they are bad for me, and more than that, because I have the will power of a gnat, and I would not be able to stop with just one, I’d eat the whole bag!

  Seriously, there’s nothing bad going into my system anymore.  It is my little program of insurance to stave off recurrences.  Yes, that’s what tamoxifen is for.  But what about when my five years of tamoxifen are over?  At least this way, I will have had 5 years of practice in keeping my body so darn healthy that creepy cancer cells wouldn’t want to take root anywhere in my body!

Some might say that, just like the occasional runner who suddenly drops dead from a heart attack, some macobiotic health nuts might still get cancer, so it doesn’t make sense to deny myself the “joys” of eating junkfood!  Well, I still choose to believe that the knife and fork are powerful weapons against illness.  Fewer macrobiotic eaters suffer from cancer than those who eat bad food.  Sort of like how some runners do, in fact, die of heart problems, but fewer than those who don’t exercise.

When chemo treatments end, many people feel a sort of mild depression or panic.  Now that the treatments have ended, we are doing nothing to fight anymore. Well, I’m still fighting, and I probably always will be.  I’m never going to be sure why or how I ended up with cancer.  It might be easier if I had been a smoker or regular drinker.  (Both activities are liked to a heightened risk.)  I could then point to that and say, “Ah, but now I’m safe, because I don’t do that anymore!”  Instead, I’m going to have to keep my act together when it comes to food, exercise, sleep, emotional health…I’m just going to have to live my dreams!  (Darn!  Heehee!) 

But I never would have figured that out if it hadn’t been for cancer.  So maybe I am forever changed.  Maybe it’s true that I can call myself many other things, now that cancer has happened to me. 

Other people think of me differently, too.  An old friend of mine has a little girl.  She wanted to bring me some cookies, she said, but her mom said she couldn’t because I wouldn’t eat them because now I’m “Macroneurotic”. 

That cracked me up!  There’s a fine line between being macrobiotic and neurotic!  Macrobiotic is Greek, meaning “Great Life”.  Yes, I intend to lead a great life.  But we are all neurotic in some way or other, right?!  I’m just a particularly GREAT NEUROTIC!

Summer’s here, and I’m not!  It seems that I’m only home long enough to mess up my house, then sleep, then go out for more fun!  I scarcely even think of cancer these days…except for when I have to put on my darn wig. 

Yes, the chicken feathers are getting darker like my old natural hair color, but they are still so short. 

But yesterday I did actually go out of the house sans-wig!  An old friend is still in town from last weekend’s reunion, and she and I and her two children met two other old friends from school and rode canoes down the Russian River.  There was lots of splashing and looking at wildlife and generally having a lovely time.  Cancer is so much a thing of the past! 

The Tamoxifen turned out to not be such a big deal!  Chemo did wierd things to my system, leaving me with the occasional hot flash.  When I’d asked the oncologist what to expect, he said the hot flashes would probably get worse.  (Oh, no!  It seemed that I was getting them on the hour already!)  After a day or two on Tamoxifen, the reverse happened!  They didn’t go away, but they became less frequent, and not as terrible.  So there!  AND!!!  I’ve got my eyebrows!  Huh! 

I remember back in January, before I began the chemo, I went to the UCSF Medical Center/Osher Integrative Clinic to meet with notable and famous oncologist who also happened to run the Integrative Clinic.  I wanted to talk to this head hancho, because I was trying to build my case against taking chemo!  I figured he’d know alot about other ways to successfully treat cancer without resorting to toxic medicines.  If I could get him to say I wouldn’t benefit from chemo, then the other doctors might listen!  But he listened politely and thoughtfully for a while, read my charts, and told me that I could eat all the kale and blueberries I liked, but if I had microtumors hanging out in a bone or an organ somewhere, those veggies wouldn’t be any match for it.  Then he gave me a ton of good info. on what to eat, which supplements to take and when, how much green tea to drink.  He assuered me that I could AND SHOULD continue to run as much as I felt able to.  (All the better to sweat those toxins out!) He assured my mom, who is always a bit skeptical of me and my crazy running vegetarian status, that I was on the right track, and that she should drink more green tea and cut out dairy and meat, too!  Then he said a shocking thing: that I’d be wise to learn to embrace the experience of chemo.  (What the ——-?!!!  No way!)

Well, I tried to embrace, but I’m still always going to be a bit adversarial toward the illness that could have been the end of me! Also, I don’t like taking medicine, adding substances to a system that felt like it was finally starting to work well.  But for any of you ladies out there that might have to be on Tamoxifen for a few years, take it from me:

IT’S NO BIG DEAL!!!  And if it helps, roar about it, or find someone close who will let you complain for a while until you get over the worrying!  ROAR!

My side effects have been non-existant, and several other people I know say the same thing about their treatment.

Now I’m off to the gym.  Still no upper body weights, until next week or so.  But I’m in the process of relaiming my life from cancer, and so I guess I’ll have to reclaim my body as well, even if it’s one limb at a time. 

Bottom line:  There totally is life after cancer, even though I didn’t really believe that until really recently!

I’m still having computer problems, and that’s why my postings have been so few.  But every day I have so much that I look forward to!  I could write something every day and still have things to say.  But for now, I’ll keep it to major updates.

For one, I like to think that cancer is all behind me now.  Yet a part of my mind says that I’ll never be free of it.  One oncologist that I consulted with confirmed that…that the people with “hormone-receptor positive” cancers tend to have more recurrences.  BUT!!!  I’m doing everything that I can to stay healthy.  There’s this wonderful book I read when I was first diagnosed, called “50 Things To Do If You Have Cancer”.  When I was too scared to sleep at night, I stayed up and read this, and other books like it.  I implemented the six things on the author’s Wellness Pyramid:

I)  I went to the best doctors I could find, and when my insurance decided to be poopy, my lovely yet ferocious sister came up with a plan.  I have recieved the best medical care available!  I feel like my doctors are part of my team.  I respect them and sometimes even do what they tell me to do! 

II)  Exercise!  I no longer do it because I ate too many skittles at the movies the other night.  Nor do I eercise to fit my clothes.  These days I exercise for the sheer thrill of being truly alive in the moment, and in Nature!  Is there anything more life-affirming than a run through the wildflowers?  Acting like a healthy person is being a healthy person!  Besides, when people start to give me that sad little “How are you, dear?”, I get a gloating, obnoxious bad-ass feeling when I can say, “Oh, I’m doing well!  I just ran 6 miles and swam another!  How are you?”

III)  I have completely re-worked my diet, from being a “pizza-terian”, consuming large amounts of frozen pizza and vegetarian taco bell, to being a fairly strict macrobiotic vegan. This diet plan wouldn’t make everyone happy, but it works for me.

IV)I’ve done a major overhaul on my attitude!  I’ve learned to make time for fun times with my friends and to celebrate the good times.  If there don’t appear to be any good times on the horizon, then I’ve learned to make some! 

V) I’ve learned to surround myself with love and support. I now trust that I am worthy of that!  I’ve learned that I’m not an island, that I am loved, unconditionally, by many.  I’ve learned to be more loving, and to live in the moment.  (I used to always long for the glories ofthe past, or wish for a brighter future…but having had cancer, you learn really quick that all any of us has is RIGHT NOW!) Are we going to live in the moment, and use our powers for good or evil, Hahaha!?

VI) I’ve never been a religious person.  But I have found my place on this planet, become comfortable, and have come to appreciate the positive and downright miraculous side of our Universe.  Cancer or not, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, because I’m pretty darn content! (it’s been proven that happy people don’t get recurrences as much!  Hooray for Happiness!) 

OTHER NEWS:

My hair is still MIA, except for a sort of 5:00 shadow.  But I have eyebrows and eyelashes!  I woke up this morning, and lo and behold, they’re back!  Woohoo!

I went for my post-surgery appointment with the reconstruction surgeon.  All’s well, doing fine, can’t complain.  BUT!  he said no running or swimming for at least another two weeks.  GRRRR!  I’m feeling the lack of endorphins.  I can go for little short walks, he said.  (He’d probably be mad at me if he found out I’ve been walking 4 to 6 miles each day, at a 17 minute pace, on hills.)  He said I could go to the gym, but only if I lifted no more than 5 pounds on either side.  Shoot!  Why bother, then?  (What about the 40 pound sacks of groceries I’ve been hoisting?) 

At this rate, the plastic surgeon’s gonna have to work his magic on the rest of me, since I’ve been sitting around so much!  I haven’t put on weight since the surgery, but I feel sloppy and dumpy.  Sigh…this too shall pass!

Then there was the big stink about starting Tamoxifen.  I hate using any kind of unnatural substance.  And I’ll need to take this medicine once daily for the next five years, to prevent a recurrence.  I know a few people who are also taking it, and they haven’t had any serious side effects.  But I’ve read about the scary stuff it can sometimes cause.  I also know that, by law, doctors and pharmacists have to tell the patient all about these “rare but serious side effects that may occur”.  It shouldn’t have surprised me that the pharmacist handed me a textbook-sized pamphlet about Tamoxifen, and all the nasty things it could do.  She went over it all in detail.  She kept saying that there are risks and if I’ve been prescribed this medicine that hopefully the benefits outweigh the risks.  I explained that I’ve already had treatment, and this wasn’t just to prevent a cancer to occur.  With trepidation, I took the first little pill that night, right before bed, so that, in the words of the pharmicist, I could “hopefully sleep through the worst of the side-effects”.  It was tiny, about the size of a baby aspirin.  How bad could this be?!  I ate a raw carrot, to top off my ten servings of veggies for the day, did some core exercises while watching the 10 o’clock news, and went to bed. 

the next morning I awoke, well-rested and happy, ready for breakfast, a bit sad to  not be able to run for yet another day…but also gald to see that I haven’t turned into a werewolf or anything, yet!  See Chapter One, in the above-mentioned book, “Stop Awfulizing!”

I think I’m bullet-proof!  Roar!  Or maybe I’m medicine proof!   

So far, all’s well.

I keep looking for excuses to wander past mirrors, to admire my new chicken feathers that are sprouting from the top of my head!  It seems like such a short time ago that I was sitting at the computer, trying to laugh instead of cry, as I wrote “A Bird of Different Plummage”, after realizing that my hair was falling out, whether I liked it or not, in spite of my holier-than-thou nutritional habits and superior attitude. Sure, chemo treatment is fraught with potential problems, some much scarier than hair loss.  But once the hair was gone, there was no denying it…I looked like a sick person.  And I’ve never done sick graciously.  (Remember, in opera I’m typecast not as the love-lorn maiden who dies tragically, but as the parody of the love-lorn maiden!)

Anyhow, you can just imagine how thrilled I was to see a little 5:00 shadow on my normally shiny pate when I awoke the other morning!  And now it’s more like chicken feathers!  Not real hair, but a glimmer of hope.  That’s all I need!  I’m starting to believe that I won’t always look like a sick lady!  I remember getting a Neulasta shot one day after chemo, and I was lamenting to the nurse how I felt great until I started to look like a sick person.  She practically snorted with laughter.  “DeAnne, I’ve never given a Neulasta shot to a lady with cancer who has such big strong arms as yours.  No, you’re not that sick, and soon you’ll be fine.”  As she slapped a band-aid on my arm where the shot was given, I wanted to believe her. 

But soon couldn’t be soon enough!

Since the last week I have been starting to act more like myself.  No running until the day after tomorrow, when the stitches come out.  I couldn’t sing until Friday, exactly a week after the surgery, because my throat was still pretty sore from the surgery.  It would have been fine in a day or two, but I was so overjoyed that I couldn’t stop talking in the car all the way home.  By the next day I sounded like “The Godfather”. 

I’ve got my energy back too!  Just in time for the holiday weekend!  Saturday was a July 4th BBQ at my parents’ with my sister and her family, then I met up with an old friend from high school to watch the fireworks.  A few other friends were there too, whom I hadn’t seen in about 20 years.  Was I worried that I was bald?  Not particularly!  These people remember when I looked like a dork 20 years ago.  Even more, I remember when they looked like dorks, too, so THERE!!!

Everyone looked at me very carefully after the round of hugs and squeals and “Oh-my-go-it’so-great-to-see-you!” ” Where did you park? ” (I’d met them there two hours later, and the parking was limited when they had arrived. 

“Oh, I knew the parking would be a mess, so I just walked down from my house.” 

“DeAAAAAAne!  Should you really be exerting yourself like this?”  asked one of the old friends.

“Nahhh, don’t worry,” I said. Really, the day before surgery, I ran 10 miles and loved it, because I knew I wouldn’t get to run for at least a couple of weeks.  

 I spent the day at Point Reyes with Mom and Dad, then went to see that silly new vampire movie with my sister that evening.  Huh!  Cancer?!  I don’t even feel like I have to defy and deny, because, for one thing, I have chicken feathers under my wig, and for another, I have so much energy that I’m unstoppable! 

Next weekend, the same old friend from high school that planned the gathering at the fireworks has also cooked up an even bigger reunion with all the old band friends.  There will be house parties, a rendez-vous at the pizza parlor where we all used to hang out after band events, and a picnic at the park.  BC (that’s “before cancer”), I would have politely declined the invitation.  Even though this friend of mine has worked all year to get in touch with everyone and extend the invitations and to coordinate the dates and places, I would have found a reason to stay home, even though she and I were very close friends in high school and have managed to stay in touch.  BC, I used to lock myself away if I had bad hair, or had gained a few pounds or looked old or tired, or if I didn’t think my clothes were fashionable enough.

Not now, though!  I feel as though I’ve got some wild oats to sow!  I’m gonna make up for all the fun social events I’ve missed for foolish reasons over the years.  Because I’ve got chicken feathers!  (And I’ve learned to get over myself even under strange circumstances.) 

As the fireworks burst overhead, I said a silent little prayer of thanks to the Universe.  Not only am I alive and thriving, but I am starting to see what they mean when they say cancer survivors often find a new sort of peace within themselves. 

And I’m thankful for my chicken feathers.

Said feathers make me as happy as when I finally got my first brassiere, even though there was nothing to put in it!  (Same kind of happy!)

Score another victory for Team DeAnne!

The night before surgery, of course I couldn’t sleep.  I try to stay positive, but the depths of my mind were full of all the things that can go wrong.  My Mom said I could call her during the night if I couldn’t sleep.  We weren’t going to get much sleep that night anyway, as I had to check in for surgery by 6:00 am.  It takes about one and a half hours to get to UCSF Medical Center.  We had to leave practically in the dead of night!

I dozed until about 3:00 am.  I still had to make a deposit at the bank, I wanted to set up the cat food for my Dad when he comes down to feed him while I’m away.  I wanted to  fold the mountain of laundry.  But I was tired.  To distract myself ont he day before surgery, I’d gone to my voice lesson and before that I ran 8 miles, and after all that I taught 13 lessons.  The laundry didn’t get folded.  Oh, well! 

Mom picked me up at 4:45.  Jenny was to meet us there.  If I needed to stay overnight, Jenny would be my guardian angel.  We sailed right through the traffic, found parking, no problem.  All these little miracles!  We managed to find the check in place, and lo and behold, my surgery time was changed!  Not 7:30 am, but 2:40 pm!  Everyone had known about the change but us!  For my, it was OK, because I wasn’t supposed to eat or drink prior to surgery, and if I were at home, it would be torture.  But Mom had thrown her back out staging the day before and was looking at 12 hours of sitting in uncomfortable chairs, watching bad TV and eating even worse food.  We called Jenny to tell her she could stay home for a while.  I was relieved to hear she was already on the road.  You see, Jenny goes everywhere with more technological gadgetry than the MIR space station.  She would certainly have a movie or something to keep us busy.  Or they could go eat.  My tummy rumbled at just the thought of food! 

At about 8:00, a nurse led us to a room.  Naturally, I was having trouble with the hospital gown staying shut in the back.  It was making mom laugh.  I was laughing too.  Jenny fixed the offending button or snap or whatever it was.  “Thank God I’m here,” said Jenny.  “Mom would just laugh at you and let you run around with your butt hanging out!”

I sat on my butt, in the bed, with my IV in place.  I tried to watch a silly movie on Jenny’s computer.  I tried to read a book.  I tried to nap.  But I was just SO nervous!  I don’t know why!  I felt better after the doctor came in and then finally the anaesthesiologist came by as well. 

“I don’t want you to get nauseous, because today’s a happy surgery day!” She assured me that they’d be very careful with the breathing tube, so as not to hurt my larynx, and that I’d be absolutely fine.  Then she startted the silly juice.  That’s when the fun really began.  I guess they were trying to get me to sing for them.  And I kept trying to sing one of my Rossini songs, but I couldn’t remember the words, and my voice wouldn’t work.  I remember wheeling through the double doors, passed a male nurse who was gaping at me.  I smilled and waved, and kept trying to sing, and he started to laugh.  The three ladies with me, the aneasthesiologis andt two nurses, were all giggling too.  We got to the operating room.  I saw my surgeon, and all kinds of stuff.  “Hey! I think this is a different OR from last time!”

“Yup, it probably is!”

All I remember after that was alot of giggling and shiny silver and blue.  I was OK!  The doctors and the nurses were sure it was all good, and so was I. 

*********

I openned one eye.  Then the other.  I saw a clock…6:45 pm…hey!!!!  I’m awake!  We did it!

I sat up…hey!  it doesn’t hurt!  I flexed my arms back and forth in front of my torso.  Hey!  this is much better than the last time I had surgery.  And I wasn’t nauseous, I was starving!  A middle-aged blond nurse looked up, and I smiled and waved.  I tried to say Hi, but my throat felt like sandpaper. 
“Be careful!  Sit still, What are you doing?!”

“I’m feeling great!  Hey, do you have anything to eat?”

She brought me a packet of saltine crackers, and a glass of water.  I slurped the water then crunched up the ice, then snarfed down the crackers.  Another nurse, a man, came over.  They both watched me and he said, “Take it easy!”

I found enough voice to tell them the unjustice of going without food since midnight the night before.  They laughed and brought me about four more packets of crackers, and a cup of peppermint tea.  Nice!

I was given the option of going home, or spending the night in the hospital.  I pondered a moment…my eyes still didn’t want to look in the direction that my head was pointing.  But other than that, I was ready to go.  Why would I stay there, and make Jenny spend another night sleeping in one of those uncomfortable chairs?  Nahh!!!  I’m going home!

The nurses got me up and walked me over to a little private room.  Jenny and Mom came back, while I was still drinking my tea.  I was given back my belongings, and got dressed, and with a bit of a concentrated effort walked very well out through the lobby with Jenny while Mom got the car.

“Congratulations!  You’re doing great!  Good luck!”  There was an Indian family sitting in the lobby.  Mom and Jenny had made friends with them, and another family in the waiting room.  Everyone had come out of their surgeries successfully.  It was a miraculous day.

Now, I’m getting ready to go home to my house after staying two nights with Mom and Dad.  The only thing that hurts is my butt, from sitting around on it.  I went for a nice walk with Mom and the dogs around the park, and that seemed to help. Truly, I’m a lucky girl.

Thanks again for all the encouragement and happy thoughts and prayers. Please feel free to keep those comments coming.  they really lift my spirits!  Team DeAnne, We did it!  Now, lets pray for some hair!

We are pleased to have spoken with DeAnne’s surgeons, and all is well. She should be awake soon, and we may even get to bring her home tonight. Thanks for all the good thoughts

We are at UCSF for DeAnne’s final surgery today! She is in good spirits, and we are looking forward to having this all behind us! We will update this afternoon, but all is well