My Healing Adventure, continued

I am getting some valuable insights from introspection while breathing deeply, journaling, and affirming. It seems I need to get more angry. The liver is the seat of anger, and that's where the cancer has spread to. I find it extremely difficult to let myself get really angry. I have been so thoroughly trained, by my studies of psychology, to understand why people behave irrationally. I don't forgive them, but "make allowances".

I find myself reasoning thus: a little upset is not worth getting angry about. I'll save my wrath for really big upsets. However,  since I am not in the habit of letting my negtive ffelinggs out, I don't even get angry when something big bothers me. The conclusion I have come to is to let my feelings out (in a safe place) about the slightest thing. That way, I'll be in the habit of expressing them also when a big upset comes along.

On another subject--When I  heard that the cancer had spread from my colon, my first thought was, "I must live long enough to finish my memoirs". The second thought was, "I must clean up my life, so the people who have to handle my affairs after my death will have the minimum of messes to cope with. I found myself not only deleting emails, but also unsubscribing from good causes that do not have priority for me. I am also terminating my membership in various organizations, not only to save money, but also to have fewer things to think about.

My Healing Adventure continued

Yesterday I had my first treatment, which took all morning. My daughters Eldri and Aletha both accompanied me and took notes. First we had an hour-long "Teaching" from a  physicians' assistant. Then, while sitting in a comfortable chair, with a warm blanket over me, I received intra-venous Avastin for almost two hours. During that time, we got further information from a social worker, a patient finance coordinator, the special Australian coordinator for this study, and my oncologist. There is no support group for people with my kind of cancer. That must mean it is not very common. 

So far I am not suffering from nausea, in spite of having taken six pills of Zeloda yesterday and three so far today. I hope it continues this way!

(I am alarmed by the multiple possible side-effects of both of these medications. However, I have been given  pills or ideas of how to counteract most of them. I am overwhelmed by an overload of information, both written and oral. I am impressed by the wide variety of free help for cancer patients available in this town.  I realize that cancer research, treatment, and auxiliary care are all well financed. This disease seems to have captured the imagination of people more than any other.)

MY HEALING ADVENTURE

I have decided to post on my blog a running account of my adventure with cancer.

In the middle of November, 2007, I started having acute abdominal pain. After some false diagnoses, a second CT scan revealed the need for a colonoscopy. On Dec. 3 I was hospitalized, and a tumor was found in my colon. A laporoscopic colonectomy on Dec. 6 removed a walnut-sized cancerous tumor, along with half of my colon. However, they could not guarantee that all the cancer cells had been caught.  

( I have a hard time inserting myself into the ever-growing category of "people with cancer". I never expected to find myself here.)

A few months later, I started having abdominal discomfort, with bloating, gas, sometimes cramps, low-grade nausea, and many almost sleepless nights. My gastroenterologist ordered: blood tests--negative, ultrasound--negative, endoscopy--a small tumor on my duodenum. 

He sent me to an oncologist at the Cancer Center. Another CT scan revealed a 4-centimeter-in-diameter cancerous tumor, stage 4, on my liver, plus other small spots.

It so happens that my very own oncologist & the local Cancer Center are taking part in a nation-wide clinical trial "...to evaluate the efficacy and safety of Avastin in combination with Xeloda in frail [or elderly] patients with untreated metastatic colorectal cancer".

I had a preliminary conference ad exam last week, and am scheduled to start the study on August 28. It will consist of a 21-cycle, where Avastin will be given once intravenously, and oral Zeloda will be taken twice a day for 14 days, followed by 7 days off. After each 3-cycle period, a CT scan will be made.

I can stop the study any time, and the doctor can stop it anytime also. If it helps it will be continued as long as the tumor is shrinking. It is sponsored by Genentech, who  pays for the expensive Avastin. All the rest is covered by Medicare.

(I am excited about taking part in this experiment. I know I must be prepared for serious side-effects, but if I can get uninterrupted sleep it will be worth it. And I like the idea of adding to the store of human knowledge and perhaps helping other cancer patients. My family and friends, on whom I rely for rides now that I no longer have a car, are very supportive and helpful.)

DEATH COMES IN AS FOG (FOR RAY HUTTON--1998)

As death crept closer and closer  you faded  little by little

No more interest in Jim Lehrer's News Hour on TV

No more attention for Garrison Keeler

No more reaction to my reading aloud

No more disgust at noisy neighbor

Unable to eat without spilling 

Unable to swallow

Unable to talk

...

MY DEAR OLD EUROPE

When I was seventeen  you first seduced me with your antiquity. After four months I took reluctant leave, vowing to return.

Seven year later you sent a dashing young Swiss man to bring me to Zurich. I had come home!

Swiss jobs could not compete with American ones. After two years husband tore me away from you in the midst of your turmoil. You sent messages and emissaries--poor substitutes for your embrace.

A one-year Fulbright grant to Cambridge, England, eight years later, satisfied my passion temporarily. I immersed myself in your deep roots.

After seven years, a Ford Foundation grant to CERN took pity, brought me back to my adopted country for one year. I hiked again in  your exquisite landscapes.

The US Office of Naval Research extended that stay to two years. I luxuriated in culture-rich London.

The University of Geneva made my stay permanent. No longer in exile, I learned French, explored your countries.

Alas--after ten years, entanglement with re-married ex-husband made me resist your charm. I escaped to USA. Would I ever find such tasty fruit as yours anywhere else?

Three years later, now-divorced ex-husband, son, two granddaughters brought me back to you. What a joy to speak French and German again!

After seven more exquisite years, ex-husband died. Two daughters and two grandchildren beckoned me to California. Could I ride such trains as yours in the New World?

On a month's return pilgrimage three years later, I wept for one week, saying, "I may never see Europe again."  I was released from my fifty-year-long infatuation.

My passion spent and free from compulsion, I enjoyed an October visit with you, again seven years later.

Finally, after eight more years, I saw you for the last time.  I am now fully content with   pictures and visits from European relatives and friends. 

EFFICIENCY

World War II

Coal severely rationed

Modest Zurich apartment

Small corner stove

Keeps us cozy  warm

With unrationed wood

In tiny stove oven

Rice pudding simmers

On lines behind

Damp towels hang

Up on top

Orange peels dry

Scent entire room

INVISIBLE GIFTS

Invisible gifts

are my favorite kind

Your encouraging word

on a dismal day

Your noticing in me

a hidden quality

Your forgiveness

for my thoughtlessness

No one can take these gifts

away from me