2 down, 28 more to go

So, the time has come to jump into the frying pan. Rather, I am happy to report that I have made the jump. Had the first radiation treatment yesterday. True to my resolution, I walked there and back, a total of 4 kms. The weather was cool, so it was easy. Today it suddenly turned hot again and I cheated by taking the bus on the uphill section, but made up by walking a fair distance afterwards, although I cheated and took the bus home.

How do I feel? Very strange. On Sunday the mental fog from the chemotherapy has lifted miraculously, and I was able to focus on various projects and generally enjoy a clear head. My feet are still not right from the chemo, but I have to say that I have been feeling rather good. That's changed as of now.

Tonight, I feel so nauseated, that I had to take one of the antinausea pills I took for chemo, my mouth feels strange and I have absolutely no appetite (no loss, I hear you say).

That is not at all what I expected, and will have to check tomorrow. I was told to expect fatigue after two weeks and that's all. So, what is all this nonsense? I don't like it and I just feel like chucking the whole thing in. Throwing in the towel, as it were.

People keep telling me how strong I am, but believe me I don't feel strong at all at the moment. I just want it to stop. The worst part of it all is that it's all up to me really. I don't think they would say don't do it, but if the cancer came back, then of course, it's my fault. So, it's a bloody quandry, don't you think?

False alarm

This cancer treatment is a bloody long journey. Today is exactly 6 months ago that Dr. S.B. told me the news. Since then, I've been cut, prodded, poisoned and now measured for frying. I just hope the treatment works. It's a bloody long haul. I've had enough.

All last week I was feeling in limbo, getting ready for the frying pan. This Monday morning I was a royal mess, having hysterics. So, what happens? Either it was not explained clearly, or I simply forgot (which happens quite a lot lately - putting it down to chemo brain), but this was just a one hour procedure to measure where they were going to irradiate the breast. They took a CAT-scan and marked up the body, as well as putting in 4 tattoos (black dots) to have as (permanent) markers.

I think I have already opined about the impersonality of large machines and my tendency to tune out and go into a meditative state where I can observe what's happening around me, but you would have to address me directly to get an answer.

Well, here I was in meditative Nirvana, with at least 6 technicians buzzing around, only two of whom explained what they were doing, and the woman with the long hair, who turned out to be the Registrar, didn't even bother to say boobah to me. Now, that would have been bearable, but I don't recall Dr S.P. saying howdy either, which was a great surprise, since she always impressed me as a warm human being. Maybe it was the big cold machine that changed all that.

The upshot of it all is that I have to wait another long week before the radiation treatment starts next Monday afternoon – another week of the blahs. I don't seem to be able to get up much oomph. Maybe I should check my thyroid level. All I can really focus on is the cross-stich, electronic solitaire and old movies. I do read, but in concentrated spurts, so, the rest of the time just floats by. It reminds me of the time in 1964 when I was under sedation for concussion for 6 weeks (car accident) and all I could do was knit and listen to rock music. It drove me crazy then and it's doing the same now. I don't do well with long inactivity, I guess.

So, what am I going to do? Well, I am going for a swim and possibly a long walk as well. Maybe the fog will clear. I think it's still the effect of the Tamoxifen. Last night my legs went into a spasm again and really hurt. After the swim, I'll get going on the US taxes, which are due mid-April. Which reminds me, I still haven't finished the Australian accounting stuff that I've been trying to finish since February! Time marches on!

Stress dreams

Well, you can always teach an old dogs new tricks, it seems. I used to have a stress dream peculiar to broadcasters, and that was some variation on the theme of - I go to studio to direct a program and the studio has an unusual geometric shape, with the announcer at one end, the engineer at another, some hundreds of feet dead space separating them, and I am somewhere outside their line of vision trying to figure out: 'How am I going to direct this program?' Or, the announcer is off colour and there's a half minute of dead air. Now don't laugh, this is serious business, and I had these even a few years ago, more than 15 years after I have directed any program!

Well, last night I bid the old nightmare goodbye and replaced it with a new one. The new version went like this: I am writing up a film proposal for funding and the Word software goes nuts and I can't reformat. No matter what I do, I can't reformat. The deadline passes and I am still struggling with the software.

OK, so I am not going to analyse the thing, but I thought it was very interesting that even stress dreams change with cancer therapy.

So, I have made a big decision to take Angela's advice and for the duration of the radiation treatment I am not going to try and do anything constructive or remotely connected with trying to make money, and just be. I wonder what that would be like? No crazy schemes, no grandiose ideas for the future. Just be. Hm........ the treatment starts Monday. 6 weeks or radiation treatment every weekday, and I am just going to BE. Stay tuned.

Me, Kojak?

Writing this blog is an interesting experience. You never know who is going to read it and what connections they are going to make with whatever I dish out. Take the bald picture in the last blog, for example. I finally decided to share that, because I got tired of pretending how wonderful I look and wanted to share what I see in the mirror when the blinds are down. So, what's the first thing that comes to mind? 'Kojak!' - Lucy Steinitz said. Why didn't I think of that?

I guess it could have been worse and, as I told Lucy, Tally Savalas and I have more in common than a bald head. I believe he started his brilliant career at the Voice of America Greek service and his brother was still working at USIA when I was. I guess that's where the similarity ends though, because my stint at the Hungarian Service of the Voice of America (1970-1972) was definitely not followed by a brilliant Hollywood career, and by now it looks like I have missed THAT boat altogether.

Be that as it may........

The respite between the chemo and radiation is not as smooth as I thought it would be, or as I wished it. More than two weeks after the last Taxol, my legs still buckle periodically, I have profound fatigue in most afternoons and I still can't feel the ground under my feet, because it feels like I have an air pad between me and the ground. Yes, I am complaining! Brrrrrrr!

On Wednesday I was finally coaxed into attending a cancer support group session at the hospital. There were just four of us. Two of the women were really young - one had just married not long before being diagnosed with breast cancer. I believe she had a mastectomy, and the other one was still waiting to hear the doctors' decision after she finishes her chemo.
Both were extremely thin and said they had lost a lot of weight since their diagnosis. The fourth person was a 70 year old mother of five, an old womens' rights warrior who, like me, has piled on the pounds. So, that common experience made me feel a little better. Also, the fact that I was told that my symptoms were absolutely normal, as the effects of the Taxol is cumulative and it will take a while before the body settles down.

We were watching a video about breast reconstruction and it was an encouraging eye opener about how many women must be out there who have gone through this experience and now live normal lives, wear outrageously low necked clothes with nobody being the wiser. Modern medicine is truly amazing! I will never, ever think badly of plastic surgery again! About 10 years ago, when I was medical writer for Australian Slimming magazine, I did a story about liposuction. The woman I followed into the operating room was a 'rich bitch' who did it basically because she didn't fit into the dress she wanted to wear for an important party (no, I am NOT kidding). That experience and some others, inprinted a fairly negative attitude towards plastic surgery, but after this video and my cancer experience, I am eating crow and saying mea culpa. It's amazing what they can do! Maybe I will have that breast reduction, after all. (OK, I'll wait on that a bit......)

In any case, my enthusiasm for writing and getting on with things have thus been tempered with the realisation that my energy is limited, so I have deflated my ego to writing this blog and not enter publicly into the really interesting discussion currently under way in the Australian Jewish community about independent Jewish voices. I was itching to do it, but for now common sense must prevail.

So, instead of getting into philosophical and political arguments, I am getting ready to enjoy the French film festival that's on now in a cinema near me. I am going to see four movies this coming week! And the cross stitch project is coming along nicely too. On Wednesday Joy and I are filming the fishes again (for a 3 minute hee hee, haa, haa film), if my energy holds out. One day I will learn how to do this stuff electronically! Now, I am tired again, so I'll have a little siesta.

Hello pesky me

Sorry I didn't update the blog for a while, but my cousin Anna and I had a really good time, and as you know one doesn't feel like talking about bad things when good things are happening.

Actually, things are not so bad right now. Yesterday I went for acupuncture and I felt full of beans today. Not enough to finish my accounting stuff that I should have done last month, but enough to do some writing and research and play on the computer and visit with friends. It's a twilight zone again, because I know that on March 19 something will happen that may set me back to being tired, etc. It's a very strange place to be. Energetic, yet not.

I think my appearance tells the whole story, so here goes. One picture with the wig, one without.


See what I mean? Humpty Dumpty.....