Thursday, December 31, 2009
New Years Eve
It is new years eve and not a creature is stirring..... we are staying in out of the cold away from germs and enjoying each others company (I'd rather be watching bowl game re-runs, my skin is itching I am going through my yearly 12 stages of football withdrawl).
Year in Review
This past year was a toughie. I continued my Taxotere treatments up until October. There were some very dark days and nights where I seriously considered stopping treatment all together. I was so serious about quitting; I even spoke with my psychologist about it. I just wanted to tell someone that this really sucked and I didn’t know if I was strong enough to continue. I was quite exhausted all the time and I used to sit most of the day and play on the computer and blog. Nothing else inspired me ... not even food. After that meeting I decided to just focus on completing one cycle at a time and that`s what I did.
In April, I spent a few days in the hospital due to my central line catheter infection. This was located on my right side of my chest. After the catheter was removed, I had a PICC line inserted to infuse the Taxotere. This caused a skin irritation... turns out I was allergic to chlorhexidine which is used to clean area.
In about June I noticed swelling in my right arm. It turned out to be lymphedema. Likely the infection from the catheter caused it. My right side is also my mastectomy side.
In October, a bone scan showed no evidence of disease in my bones; however a CT scan showed tumours on my liver had grown and there were more lesions. The Taxotere was no longer working and I needed to change chemotherapy to Xeloda pills. This meant the PICC line came out, it meant fewer trips to the clinic and best of all more gentle side effects. Even with liver issues, deep down I was thrilled because I was so sick of the side effects from the Taxotere and the steroids. I was just so glad to be changing treatments.
After a couple of months, I felt like getting out and doing a few more things but my body was stiff and sore from just sitting around for a year. I decided to enlist the help of a chiropractor who stretched out some of those muscles. This along with the active release therapy and the massaging the edema out of my legs has helped me so much to get around.
I am feeling more optimistic and alive. My body is recovering nicely ... I can now stand longer and walk further. It’s been quit the year. I’m really hoping improvements continue into 2010.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Happy Holidays: New Bourbon Arrivals
I hope everyone has had a pleasant and healthy holiday season. We are absolutely loaded to the brim with Christmas beers, wines, sparklings and even beer de Champagnes to meet your holiday needs. Futher more I would like to invite you all to celebrate with Health Spirits and bring in the new year proper with our newly received shipment of world class Bourbons.
-Pappy Van Winkle's 23yr Family Reserve Decanter Set (Special bottling that includes a crystal decanter and two Van Winkle Glasses)
-Pappy Van Winkle 23yr Family Reserve
-Pappy Van Winkle 20yr Family Reserve
-Pappy Van Winkle 15yr Family Reserve
-Van Winkle 12yr Special Reserve
-Old Rip Van Winkle 10yr barrel proof
-WoodFord Reserve Master's Collection
-Elijah Craig 18yr Single Barrel
-Bakers 7yr Small Batch
-Booker's True Barrel Reserve wooden box set
-Old Forester Birthday Reserve
Don't forget to check out our full Bourbon Menu on the right side of this page under store info, and have a fantastic New Year. Come and get it!
Nate
Port update
Well, everything went smoothly today. Check in was on time at 6:30 AM, followed by a walk to the surgical prep area, where I got undressed and out on a hospital gown and robe and was asked numerous questions. An IV nurse started a line in my right hand, after saying that she didn't think she was allowed to touch my (bandaged) left hand. So the bandaging really works as a noticeable deterrent.
The interventional radiologist (IR) doc came in for a visit. We hadn't seen him in years, since he placed my first port. When we asked if he knew how long it had been, he told us it was before the hospital got a new computerized records system, so the best answer we can arrive at 4-5 years.
They were a little late taking me to the IR procedure room, where three nurses and techs descended on me. I transferred from the gurney to the scanner bed. They cleaned and draped the area on my right chest and placed a surgical drape over my face (on a frame to keep it away from my eyes). I was able to turn my head and look out the left side. No claustrophobia issues there. They placed an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth when the cannula up my nose bothered me. Then they gave me an antibiotic and started the Versed and fentanyl.
I became VERY relaxed but didn't fall asleep. I didn't notice them giving me local anesthetic. I could hear them talking to each other throughout the procedure but I didn't know what they were doing or understand the terminology, so it didn't bother me. The whole thing went very smoothly and I was well cared for the entire time.
An orderly wheeled me back to recovery, while the IR went doc spoke with Rik in the waiting area to reassure him I was fine. Rik promptly called my mom, his mom and my sister. He came back to my recovery room and spoke with the IR doc about Canada and photography while I devoured a tuna salad sandwich on whole wheat bread, potato chips (baked not fried, it's a hospital after all), water and apple juice. The red Delicious apple didn't appeal to me, and I saved the cookies for later.
Once they let me up and about, we went to the Ambulatory Infusion Center yo get my zometa. The IR team had left my port accessed so it was the work of moments to hook up saline and the drug. Rik brought me a decaf mocha and a huge chocolate-chocolate chip cookie and then got himself some lunch. (The Swedish-Cherry Hill hospital has the best hospital cafeteria in the area.) The zometa finished around 1:30 PM and we went straight home.
I've been napping on the sofa for the past three hours, tossing and turning a bit and snuggled with dogs much of that time. But at 4:30 PM the dogs were telling me they were too hungry to wait any longer for dinner. After all, they'd had breakfast at 6 AM! Rik fed them and I decided I was awake enough to blog.
Post-op care: No driving or alcohol for 24 hours (no hardship there). No shower until Friday (that could be a stinky problem). Take pain meds as needed. Be aware of signs of infection such as redness at the site, elevated temperature, etc.
I believe I will recover quickly and will keep all informed!
The interventional radiologist (IR) doc came in for a visit. We hadn't seen him in years, since he placed my first port. When we asked if he knew how long it had been, he told us it was before the hospital got a new computerized records system, so the best answer we can arrive at 4-5 years.
They were a little late taking me to the IR procedure room, where three nurses and techs descended on me. I transferred from the gurney to the scanner bed. They cleaned and draped the area on my right chest and placed a surgical drape over my face (on a frame to keep it away from my eyes). I was able to turn my head and look out the left side. No claustrophobia issues there. They placed an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth when the cannula up my nose bothered me. Then they gave me an antibiotic and started the Versed and fentanyl.
I became VERY relaxed but didn't fall asleep. I didn't notice them giving me local anesthetic. I could hear them talking to each other throughout the procedure but I didn't know what they were doing or understand the terminology, so it didn't bother me. The whole thing went very smoothly and I was well cared for the entire time.
An orderly wheeled me back to recovery, while the IR went doc spoke with Rik in the waiting area to reassure him I was fine. Rik promptly called my mom, his mom and my sister. He came back to my recovery room and spoke with the IR doc about Canada and photography while I devoured a tuna salad sandwich on whole wheat bread, potato chips (baked not fried, it's a hospital after all), water and apple juice. The red Delicious apple didn't appeal to me, and I saved the cookies for later.
Once they let me up and about, we went to the Ambulatory Infusion Center yo get my zometa. The IR team had left my port accessed so it was the work of moments to hook up saline and the drug. Rik brought me a decaf mocha and a huge chocolate-chocolate chip cookie and then got himself some lunch. (The Swedish-Cherry Hill hospital has the best hospital cafeteria in the area.) The zometa finished around 1:30 PM and we went straight home.
I've been napping on the sofa for the past three hours, tossing and turning a bit and snuggled with dogs much of that time. But at 4:30 PM the dogs were telling me they were too hungry to wait any longer for dinner. After all, they'd had breakfast at 6 AM! Rik fed them and I decided I was awake enough to blog.
Post-op care: No driving or alcohol for 24 hours (no hardship there). No shower until Friday (that could be a stinky problem). Take pain meds as needed. Be aware of signs of infection such as redness at the site, elevated temperature, etc.
I believe I will recover quickly and will keep all informed!
Back Home Safe And Sound
We arrived home safe and sound after being away for a week visiting family in the foothills of beautiful Southern Alberta. It’s so nice to just look out the dining room window and see the mountains ... pretty cool. The roads were great and the scenery magnificent.
As we were all setting in for the 4 hour trip back, Daisy our dog sat on my lap. Then it must have been time for a nap ... she buried her head and front legs into my down filled vest ... her head right up into my shoulder. How cute is that. I think that all the excitement from the past week really had her tired. That only lasted a short time as she got too hot and moved onto her blanket in the back seat. She sure does travel well.
Today we are just catching on mail and stuff.
Aging, inflammation and cancer
Aging and inflammation: etiological culprits of cancer by Aamir Ahmad and 5 co-authors, including Fazlul H Sarkar, Curr Aging Sci 2009(Dec); 2(3): 174-86 [PubMed Citation][Full text in PMC]. Excerpt from the full text:
In the context of cancer, like normal tissues, various cancerous tissues also harbor a minor population of cells with enormous self-renewal and tumor-initiating capacity. Such cells are referred to as tumor-initiating cells or cancer stem cells, which offer an attractive target for cancer therapy [136] provided that normal stem cells are spared from the side effects of therapy. A number of molecular events that mark stem cell aging also occur in tumors in the elderly [134] and, as such, play important roles in the processes of cancer and aging, suggesting that these two processes are intertwined.Comment: The full text of this article is available via PubMed Central (PMC). However, if accessed at the website of Current Aging Science (a journal of Bentham Science Publishers), the full text can only be purchased, and prior registration is required.For some background information about this publisher, see an entry in the French version of Wikipedia [Google translation into English]. (This entry is currently not available in the English version of Wikipedia).
New port
I'm off this morning before the crack of dawn to get a new port. Had to bandage my arm so that no one gave me a needle stick in the left hand or arm by accident. Or tried to take my blood pressure. I'll say one thing for the bandaging -- it's hard to ignore.
The new power port should be an improvement over the current portocath. Still, there is risk associated with any anesthesia and procedure. I hope to be blogging again later today.
The new power port should be an improvement over the current portocath. Still, there is risk associated with any anesthesia and procedure. I hope to be blogging again later today.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Don't hit me!
Used to be if you claimed that you got cancer because you were hit there (wherever on the body there was), people would scoff. Now researchers are looking into the possibility that a blow or wound could lead to cancer, and paying special attention to the cells around tumors. If the cells are weak, they allow the cancer to spread. You can read about new respect for old ideas here in the New York Times.
Bonus Week Away From Xeloda
Normally I would be starting a new cycle of Xeloda but because of the holidays, the clinic pushed some of us back 7 days, so no Xeloda this week. That makes me a happy camper because I have an extra week to recover and get stronger. I notice my coughing is down a bit these last couple of days and my nose isn’t running like a tap anymore either. Everything is settling down nicely.
I’ve been extremely lucky too because D had a really bad cold just before Christmas. You should have seen me ... don’t touch this, don’t touch that and don’t even think about touching my laptop. Wash your hands I’d bark out at him. We have hand sanitizer jugs everywhere. I guess it all worked because D is over his cold and I’m symptom free. I’m oh so glad about that.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Clarification
I probably need to clarify some of my thoughts related to my last post. I really don't believe cancer is "mind over matter". I don't think positive thoughts and doing everything right promises a cancer cure or good outcomes...I am all too aware of those who have a positive and strong "I'm going to beat this" attitude, who don't beat cancer. I know of people who have been healthy eaters, athletes, who do yoga, who have faith and who have been diagnosed with and who succumb to cancer. I know of many who pursue very healthy lifestyles after a cancer diagnosis, to no avail. Cancer is sometimes bigger than all of our resources.
I also know that based on new research that there are some who have a genetic predisposition to violent reactions to chemo. Going into chemo treatment with a positive attitude won't over-ride their predisposition to have violent reactions to the drugs. And many suffer surgical complications they have no control over. Many have more extensive surgeries than I did, so have a more prolonged recovery than mine.
I guess I was just thinking of patients I have seen over the years as a nurse, with and without cancer, who decide ahead of time that therapy will be difficult, recovery prolonged, who anticipate negative reactions to every new drug they are given, to every new treatment. And their beliefs are often realized. I see many who assume prior to surgery that they will feel badly for a long time after, and they do. And some who assume they will have a prolonged recovery from surgery do so in part because they assume an invalid mentality post-op. They assume they need to stay in bed feeling badly, and the staying in bed promotes a prolonged recovery as they heal more slowly when they decide to not move. And there are some who experience "anticipatory" nausea and vomiting prior to chemo....they actually feel nauseated and vomit prior to chemo treatments, as they have convinced themselves it is inevitable.
I had chemo every Tuesday, and had chemo with the same group of patients week after week. No one in my group had negative responses to chemo. Many went out to eat or went out shopping after chemo treatments. We laughed and talked and had fun during our hours of chemo. Those who had difficulties with chemo were in the minority.
I've seen many patients over the years who have done well after major surgery, because they were proactive and decided to do everything they could to recover rapidly. I've also seen many who recovered slowly and who had many complications related to the fact that they assumed they were supposed to feel badly and so acted accordingly.
One of the biggest things cancer takes from us is our sense of control. And we cannot control that we were diagnosed with cancer, we cannot control our final outcome of the diagnosis. But we can have some control, even still.
I feel expectations, at least in regards to therapy often do often influence outcomes (though a good attitude doesn't guarantee a good outcome). We have a chance to be in control, at least in some ways, of how we respond to therapy. We can be victims, or we can work to assume the best outcomes. We can decide not to assume bad reactions to chemo, but to go into it open-minded. We can decide pre-op that we will walk and move and do everything we can to enhance our recovery, even if it is painful. Part, but not all of it, is a mindset. A sense of determination, a willingness to fight that can only help us. It may not guarantee good outcomes, but it surely can't hurt.
I also know that based on new research that there are some who have a genetic predisposition to violent reactions to chemo. Going into chemo treatment with a positive attitude won't over-ride their predisposition to have violent reactions to the drugs. And many suffer surgical complications they have no control over. Many have more extensive surgeries than I did, so have a more prolonged recovery than mine.
I guess I was just thinking of patients I have seen over the years as a nurse, with and without cancer, who decide ahead of time that therapy will be difficult, recovery prolonged, who anticipate negative reactions to every new drug they are given, to every new treatment. And their beliefs are often realized. I see many who assume prior to surgery that they will feel badly for a long time after, and they do. And some who assume they will have a prolonged recovery from surgery do so in part because they assume an invalid mentality post-op. They assume they need to stay in bed feeling badly, and the staying in bed promotes a prolonged recovery as they heal more slowly when they decide to not move. And there are some who experience "anticipatory" nausea and vomiting prior to chemo....they actually feel nauseated and vomit prior to chemo treatments, as they have convinced themselves it is inevitable.
I had chemo every Tuesday, and had chemo with the same group of patients week after week. No one in my group had negative responses to chemo. Many went out to eat or went out shopping after chemo treatments. We laughed and talked and had fun during our hours of chemo. Those who had difficulties with chemo were in the minority.
I've seen many patients over the years who have done well after major surgery, because they were proactive and decided to do everything they could to recover rapidly. I've also seen many who recovered slowly and who had many complications related to the fact that they assumed they were supposed to feel badly and so acted accordingly.
One of the biggest things cancer takes from us is our sense of control. And we cannot control that we were diagnosed with cancer, we cannot control our final outcome of the diagnosis. But we can have some control, even still.
I feel expectations, at least in regards to therapy often do often influence outcomes (though a good attitude doesn't guarantee a good outcome). We have a chance to be in control, at least in some ways, of how we respond to therapy. We can be victims, or we can work to assume the best outcomes. We can decide not to assume bad reactions to chemo, but to go into it open-minded. We can decide pre-op that we will walk and move and do everything we can to enhance our recovery, even if it is painful. Part, but not all of it, is a mindset. A sense of determination, a willingness to fight that can only help us. It may not guarantee good outcomes, but it surely can't hurt.
Unexpected test and more
I spent a marathon afternoon at the hospital today. I was supposed to get my monthly infusion of zometa but the nurses were unable to access my port after trying four times (ow).
The infusion nurses paged my oncologist. He ordered an immediate specialized xray of the port through interventional radiology. Luckily they could see me right away.
Interventional radiology said I needed a new port. The doc was able to access it but found a clot beneath the port. They gave me a choice between Tuesday (tomorrow) and Wednesday -- then oops! we don't have a slot on Tuesday. So on Wednesday at 6:30 AM I report to the hospital to get a power port.
Assuming all goes smoothly, the procedure will take about an hour under conscious sedation (where you don't remember what they're doing but you can talk to the docs if they need you to). Then I spend an hour in recovery. They will leave my new power port accessed so I can get the zometa I was supposed to have today.
All in all Wednesday is looking like a long day. Oy. Happy new year to me!
The infusion nurses paged my oncologist. He ordered an immediate specialized xray of the port through interventional radiology. Luckily they could see me right away.
Interventional radiology said I needed a new port. The doc was able to access it but found a clot beneath the port. They gave me a choice between Tuesday (tomorrow) and Wednesday -- then oops! we don't have a slot on Tuesday. So on Wednesday at 6:30 AM I report to the hospital to get a power port.
Assuming all goes smoothly, the procedure will take about an hour under conscious sedation (where you don't remember what they're doing but you can talk to the docs if they need you to). Then I spend an hour in recovery. They will leave my new power port accessed so I can get the zometa I was supposed to have today.
All in all Wednesday is looking like a long day. Oy. Happy new year to me!
Enjoying the Moment
I started the day with an excellent sleep. Slept right through last night ... what a difference that makes. So today I feel like I’ve got energy to spare.
Yesterday afternoon, we went for a drive out in the country and 3 dear crossed the road right in front of us... so beautiful.
Other than that, we’re just relaxing and enjoying the moment.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Nap Happy
Just got up from an afternoon nap ... something I seem to have gotten in the habit of doing during this holiday season. I think it has something to do with all the good food and conversation we’ve all enjoyed. This really tires a girl out. The coffee is always on and oh so many desserts. Yummy!
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Outcomes and Expectations
While I don't believe "thinking positive" is vital to a good cancer outcome, I do believe that negative assumptions affect cancer treatment outcomes.
I know of many who assume prior to cancer therapy that their normal lives will be over while on chemo...they will feel ill, be nauseated, will vomit often, not be able to eat and will be fatigued while on chemo. And bald.
Many also assume their recovery from surgery will be extensive, they will be out of commission for months following surgical intervention. They assume they will have side effects from radiation therapy.
I wonder sometimes if those assumptions become a self-fulfilling prophecy?
I personally had a very major cancer surgery. Prior to surgery I was told I would be in ICU post-op and would be hospitalized for at least 12 days. But I didn't go to ICU post-op as I did well after surgery. I was discharged in 6 days, not 12. I walked 3 miles 8 days after my surgery. I was driving my car in 2 weeks and back to my normal life in three weeks.
I started chemotherapy with no pre-conceived notions of my life being altered, and it wasn't. I was nauseated only once during my 7 months of chemotherapy, ate well, gained weight and never vomited. I didn't lose my hair. I drove myself to and from chemo treatments and ran errands on my way home from chemo. I did athletic training while on chemo. Six months after I completed chemo I rode my bicycle 100 miles in one day (I trained for that event while on chemo). I lived a normal life...the few chemo side effects I had were cured with medication once I brought them to the attention of my oncologist. I felt a bit washed out on chemo days, but hey, I'd had days where I felt a bit washed out prior to chemo. They've come a long way with chemo, nowadays drugs are given prior to chemo treatments to prevent side-effects.
I had a friend with my same cancer who was in her 70s. She was also discharged from the hospital following her extensive surgery in a week. She was soon after surgery kayaking and hiking and doing the things she loved. My 79 year old aunt is experiencing a breast cancer recurrence, but is living a normal and full life while on chemo, following 39 uneventful radiation treatments.
I know of others who after the same surgery I had spend months recovering. Who don't resume their lives and interests for the better part of a year.
And I wonder sometimes if expectations play a part in outcomes. If we expect to be ill and disabled, maybe we will be. If we expect prolonged recovery, maybe it will become our reality. It's not so much that we need to think positive when we enter cancer treatment, maybe it's more that we go into it open-minded? Maybe our attitude in part determines whether we will be victims or victors?
I know of many who assume prior to cancer therapy that their normal lives will be over while on chemo...they will feel ill, be nauseated, will vomit often, not be able to eat and will be fatigued while on chemo. And bald.
Many also assume their recovery from surgery will be extensive, they will be out of commission for months following surgical intervention. They assume they will have side effects from radiation therapy.
I wonder sometimes if those assumptions become a self-fulfilling prophecy?
I personally had a very major cancer surgery. Prior to surgery I was told I would be in ICU post-op and would be hospitalized for at least 12 days. But I didn't go to ICU post-op as I did well after surgery. I was discharged in 6 days, not 12. I walked 3 miles 8 days after my surgery. I was driving my car in 2 weeks and back to my normal life in three weeks.
I started chemotherapy with no pre-conceived notions of my life being altered, and it wasn't. I was nauseated only once during my 7 months of chemotherapy, ate well, gained weight and never vomited. I didn't lose my hair. I drove myself to and from chemo treatments and ran errands on my way home from chemo. I did athletic training while on chemo. Six months after I completed chemo I rode my bicycle 100 miles in one day (I trained for that event while on chemo). I lived a normal life...the few chemo side effects I had were cured with medication once I brought them to the attention of my oncologist. I felt a bit washed out on chemo days, but hey, I'd had days where I felt a bit washed out prior to chemo. They've come a long way with chemo, nowadays drugs are given prior to chemo treatments to prevent side-effects.
I had a friend with my same cancer who was in her 70s. She was also discharged from the hospital following her extensive surgery in a week. She was soon after surgery kayaking and hiking and doing the things she loved. My 79 year old aunt is experiencing a breast cancer recurrence, but is living a normal and full life while on chemo, following 39 uneventful radiation treatments.
I know of others who after the same surgery I had spend months recovering. Who don't resume their lives and interests for the better part of a year.
And I wonder sometimes if expectations play a part in outcomes. If we expect to be ill and disabled, maybe we will be. If we expect prolonged recovery, maybe it will become our reality. It's not so much that we need to think positive when we enter cancer treatment, maybe it's more that we go into it open-minded? Maybe our attitude in part determines whether we will be victims or victors?
Friday, December 25, 2009
Little mother
Like everyone else in the Midwest, we're snowed in. We were originally planning to leave for my parents' house in Iowa today. Now we might leave tomorrow. Or Sunday. Or sometime in late May when this snow finally melts.
Still, we had a nice Christmas. According to the newspaper, it was the first time snow actually fell in Kansas City on Christmas Day in 50 years. Our new goose wore his/her Santa suit for the first time. WCK loved all of her presents from Santa. One present was an interactive baby doll that cries and talks to you, usually to demand things. "I'm hungry!" "I'm tired!" "Play with me, Mommy!" If you don't do what the doll says, it cries more. It's highly realistic. Perhaps if Santa had gained an understanding of just how demanding this doll was, perhaps if Santa had known that this doll actually says, "Uh, oh! I made a stinky!", then Santa might have thought twice about purchasing said doll and would have delivered a silent doll. Santa is clearly insane.
Anyway. Every time the doll would cry, WCK would get very concerned and rush to figure out how to calm it down. Just before bedtime tonight, WCK told me to find the "off" switch on the doll so it wouldn't cry in the night and wake her up. Already, she has her priorities straight as a mother. Real babies should come with a nighttime "off" switch.
Still, we had a nice Christmas. According to the newspaper, it was the first time snow actually fell in Kansas City on Christmas Day in 50 years. Our new goose wore his/her Santa suit for the first time. WCK loved all of her presents from Santa. One present was an interactive baby doll that cries and talks to you, usually to demand things. "I'm hungry!" "I'm tired!" "Play with me, Mommy!" If you don't do what the doll says, it cries more. It's highly realistic. Perhaps if Santa had gained an understanding of just how demanding this doll was, perhaps if Santa had known that this doll actually says, "Uh, oh! I made a stinky!", then Santa might have thought twice about purchasing said doll and would have delivered a silent doll. Santa is clearly insane.
Anyway. Every time the doll would cry, WCK would get very concerned and rush to figure out how to calm it down. Just before bedtime tonight, WCK told me to find the "off" switch on the doll so it wouldn't cry in the night and wake her up. Already, she has her priorities straight as a mother. Real babies should come with a nighttime "off" switch.
trannylicious christmas wishes
Merry Christmas all.
My gift to you is this wonderful wig tutorial courtesy of the fashion group on PC.
I knew my doppelganger was out there somewhere.
My gift to you is this wonderful wig tutorial courtesy of the fashion group on PC.
I knew my doppelganger was out there somewhere.
And the onc says....
I saw Dr. G, Seattle's best oncologist, yesterday and he has finally come around to estradiol therapy. This is a new concept that came out of the 2008 San Antonio Breast Cancer Symposium.
I will stay on the Fareston (toremifene) for six more weeks, to give it a chance to work. In that time I will have two blood draws, so we will see if my tumor markers decrease. If there is no change, or the markers continue to rise, then I will start estradiol, hopefully before RIk departs for his trip in February.
I am still on the merry-go-round but happy to try another estrogen-based therapy rather than chemo. My cancer is so ER+ that these drugs should all work more effectively for me that chemo. And given my bout with 5 FU last year and subsequent hospitalization, I'd like to keep pushing off chemo for as long as possible.
I will stay on the Fareston (toremifene) for six more weeks, to give it a chance to work. In that time I will have two blood draws, so we will see if my tumor markers decrease. If there is no change, or the markers continue to rise, then I will start estradiol, hopefully before RIk departs for his trip in February.
I am still on the merry-go-round but happy to try another estrogen-based therapy rather than chemo. My cancer is so ER+ that these drugs should all work more effectively for me that chemo. And given my bout with 5 FU last year and subsequent hospitalization, I'd like to keep pushing off chemo for as long as possible.
What Jews do on Christmas
For those of you who would like to know what the rest of the world does when so many celebrate Christmas, here is our typical day.
EVE: Eat dinner, maybe with friends. Watch a movie.
DAY: Meet friends for Chinese food. (This is a long-standing American Jewish tradition. For many years the only places open on Xmas Day were Chinese restaurants because most Chinese didn't celebrate Christmas.) Watch a movie. Get together with friends to play board games. Go skiiing.
From lunch through dinner, we spent almost as much time together as our Christian friends did with their family and friends.
I was so pooped after everyone left that I fell asleep on the sofa.
KALE CHIPS
(Serves eight, recipe halves easily)
2 bunches kale, stems removed and cut into 2" pieces
2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
A few pinches of kosher salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Whisk together vinegar, oil, and salt, and toss with kale leaves. Place in a single layer on cookie sheet and place into oven. Bake 10-15 minutes, flipping halfway through until crispy. Do not overcook or allow them to become completely brown as they will then taste bitter. Enjoy!
EVE: Eat dinner, maybe with friends. Watch a movie.
We actually hosted friends for dinner. Afterwards he went to volunteer overnight at a shelter and she stayed with us for a sleepover. We watched "Night at the Museum 2" which was filmed in several Smithsonian Institution museums and along the National Mall. It was funny, but boy do you have to know your history to get all the jokes!
DAY: Meet friends for Chinese food. (This is a long-standing American Jewish tradition. For many years the only places open on Xmas Day were Chinese restaurants because most Chinese didn't celebrate Christmas.) Watch a movie. Get together with friends to play board games. Go skiiing.
We ate breakfast in our jammies, and our friend N stayed until it was time to leave for lunch at Chiang's Gourmet, which serves the best Chinese food in Seattle. There were eight of us at lunch and we feasted on vegetarian spare ribs, tea smoked duck, three mushrooms, tofu with vegetables, garlic eggplant and vegetable mu shu. We arrived at 1 PM and the restaurant was half full, but half an hour later it was packed with many more Chinese-American families and a few Jews.
After lunch everyone came over here to hang out. We ate dessert and played games (Scrabble, Mille Bornes and Dominion). We watched the unaired pilot of "I Love Lucy" (probably unaired because it was spectacularly too long and poorly written. The best scene was Lucy as a clown "professor" of music, trying to help Ricky's band in their audition for television. Naturally, Lucy gets offered the job.)
And because December 25th fell on a Friday this year, our friends stayed for a potluck Shabbat dinner. L brought a salad, N and K made mashed potatoes, C helped me make pumpkin-peanut soup, A brought cold drinks and I roasted a beer-butt chicken and kale chips (recipe below). I don't know how we managed to eat again after such a huge lunch, but somehow the food disappeared.
From lunch through dinner, we spent almost as much time together as our Christian friends did with their family and friends.
I was so pooped after everyone left that I fell asleep on the sofa.
KALE CHIPS
(Serves eight, recipe halves easily)
2 bunches kale, stems removed and cut into 2" pieces
2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
A few pinches of kosher salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Whisk together vinegar, oil, and salt, and toss with kale leaves. Place in a single layer on cookie sheet and place into oven. Bake 10-15 minutes, flipping halfway through until crispy. Do not overcook or allow them to become completely brown as they will then taste bitter. Enjoy!
Healthy Spirits in the New York Times
We were mentioned in Jordan McKay's article in the Christmas edition of the New York Times! You can find the article here:http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/25/dining/25sfdine.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=Christmas%20beer&st=cse
Happy Holidays!
dave hauslein
beer manager
415-255-0610
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Upbeat, downbeat and just plain beat
A few months ago, www.spryliving.com placed Cancer Banter on its list of five "best blogs for cancer patients and survivors." I ordinarily wouldn't mention this, but the description calls Cancer Banter an "upbeat blog."
This is true for the most part, and, believe me, I work at it. From the beginning I've tried to be honest while putting a positive spin on the bleakest of circumstances. Nonetheless, I've never wanted Cancer Banter to be simply upbeat; I want it to be an accurate account of my experiences. If for no other reason, I want to look back and think, "That was a terrible time, but I struggled through."
But now it's been nearly a month since I've written. The upbeat part of me wakes up every morning and thinks, "This is the day that I turn the corner." The downbeat part of me wonders irrationally, "Am I relapsing?" The just plain beat part is sleeping a lot.
I first went to the ETC (City of Hopes emergency room) on December 4 with a 104 degree temperature. I was given steroids and antibiotics through the IV and then sent home with an oral prescription for six and seven days of the same drugs.
Two days later my temp. bounced back to 104, but I felt well as long as I was on the steroids. I saw Dr. Forman two weeks after the visit to the ETC, and my blood counts and temp. were normal.
It's now been two weeks since that visit, and my temperature continues to be a bouncing ball, climbing to as high as 100.8 in the afternoon. My exhaustion level is an 8+ on a scale of 1 to 10.
The upbeat me says to just wait until the next appointment in two weeks, but the downbeat part wants to sound the alarms.
Friend and fellow City of Hope patient Nancy Sakakura (now that's one upbeat gal) made my day on Tuesday when she drove up from Orange County with a special gift: an EOS cap. Even when I saw that the gift was a cap, I didn't guess that it was the coveted EOS one. (When I'm feeling better, I'll take a picture of me with the cap and post.) Special thank you to Heather at EOS Estate Winery, who donated a cap to Nancy and me when Nancy shared my story. Nancy added to the gift by finding the perfect T-shirt from the winery - a nice French fitted tee that says "Live each day" on the front and features the graphic of a wine glass on the back.
Both the cap and the Tee are enough to make me feel . . . upbeat. I can't wait to wear them to my next City of Hope appointment.
This is true for the most part, and, believe me, I work at it. From the beginning I've tried to be honest while putting a positive spin on the bleakest of circumstances. Nonetheless, I've never wanted Cancer Banter to be simply upbeat; I want it to be an accurate account of my experiences. If for no other reason, I want to look back and think, "That was a terrible time, but I struggled through."
But now it's been nearly a month since I've written. The upbeat part of me wakes up every morning and thinks, "This is the day that I turn the corner." The downbeat part of me wonders irrationally, "Am I relapsing?" The just plain beat part is sleeping a lot.
I first went to the ETC (City of Hopes emergency room) on December 4 with a 104 degree temperature. I was given steroids and antibiotics through the IV and then sent home with an oral prescription for six and seven days of the same drugs.
Two days later my temp. bounced back to 104, but I felt well as long as I was on the steroids. I saw Dr. Forman two weeks after the visit to the ETC, and my blood counts and temp. were normal.
It's now been two weeks since that visit, and my temperature continues to be a bouncing ball, climbing to as high as 100.8 in the afternoon. My exhaustion level is an 8+ on a scale of 1 to 10.
The upbeat me says to just wait until the next appointment in two weeks, but the downbeat part wants to sound the alarms.
Friend and fellow City of Hope patient Nancy Sakakura (now that's one upbeat gal) made my day on Tuesday when she drove up from Orange County with a special gift: an EOS cap. Even when I saw that the gift was a cap, I didn't guess that it was the coveted EOS one. (When I'm feeling better, I'll take a picture of me with the cap and post.) Special thank you to Heather at EOS Estate Winery, who donated a cap to Nancy and me when Nancy shared my story. Nancy added to the gift by finding the perfect T-shirt from the winery - a nice French fitted tee that says "Live each day" on the front and features the graphic of a wine glass on the back.
Both the cap and the Tee are enough to make me feel . . . upbeat. I can't wait to wear them to my next City of Hope appointment.
Family portrait
Every couple of years our synagogue organizes a photo shoot. Lifetouch Photo takes pics of everyone who signs up for a sitting. One 8x10 photo is free, but of course they want to sell you more pictures. In our case, we choose one group shot with the dogs and order extra copies to send to the parents. Then the company makes a photo directory with names and contact info so shul members know how to reach one another (and what we look like).
About half the members participated this year. We used to be among the only people bringing a pet, but this year at our sitting alone there were our two dogs and a puppy from another family. I don't know who was more excited -- the puppy or the small kids from the third family.
The photographer had no trouble getting Bob (now known as Bobka) to look at the camera, but Pumpkin must be growing deaf, because in every shot he is looking somewhere else.
Do we look cute or what?!
t'was the day before Christmas...
and not a cancer cell stirring (I hope).
Christmas brings mixed feelings. I love being home for the holidays, but I can't help remembering December of last year; it was the lowest, most despondent, most painful month of my life. And hey!! It's all documented here, just a click away.
Here I am, sitting in the exact same spot on the couch, laptop and all, that I sat for all of those miserable months. I see the big tree on the other side of the window, bare spindle arms still exactly the same. I remember watching the leaves fall and imagining each one a cancer cell, withering, dying, disintegrating into non-existence. Hoping the seasonal cycle of death was happening in my body as well.
It was.
I am so thankful I went through veritable hell and made it back for one more year. A few of my friends didn't, and I feel as though it's my duty to relish every sensation that they've been robbed of. Happiness, gratitude, I feel it in my bones.
Hair update: It's growing in kinky and I can totally comb it into a righteous fro. I've always hated the smell of unwashed hair, you know, the combination of oils and skin and such, but I LOVE it now. I run my fingers through my hair and inhale. Mmmmmm, to be human again. And bangs! observe:
This next bit might be TMI, but then, I suppose that's the point- my little ovary buddies are working again, complete with PMS and cramps and the holy parting of the red sea. Apparently my chemo-induced menopause was temporary. Who knew I'd be so happy to be bloated and irritated?
enough about me...
I want to pass this contest along but I'm too lazy to summarize, so here's the deal:
I love my oncology nurses. I give them a mental hug every time I think of them. Perhaps they deserve more than invisible gestures of gratitude.
Christmas brings mixed feelings. I love being home for the holidays, but I can't help remembering December of last year; it was the lowest, most despondent, most painful month of my life. And hey!! It's all documented here, just a click away.
Here I am, sitting in the exact same spot on the couch, laptop and all, that I sat for all of those miserable months. I see the big tree on the other side of the window, bare spindle arms still exactly the same. I remember watching the leaves fall and imagining each one a cancer cell, withering, dying, disintegrating into non-existence. Hoping the seasonal cycle of death was happening in my body as well.
It was.
I am so thankful I went through veritable hell and made it back for one more year. A few of my friends didn't, and I feel as though it's my duty to relish every sensation that they've been robbed of. Happiness, gratitude, I feel it in my bones.
Hair update: It's growing in kinky and I can totally comb it into a righteous fro. I've always hated the smell of unwashed hair, you know, the combination of oils and skin and such, but I LOVE it now. I run my fingers through my hair and inhale. Mmmmmm, to be human again. And bangs! observe:
This next bit might be TMI, but then, I suppose that's the point- my little ovary buddies are working again, complete with PMS and cramps and the holy parting of the red sea. Apparently my chemo-induced menopause was temporary. Who knew I'd be so happy to be bloated and irritated?
enough about me...
I want to pass this contest along but I'm too lazy to summarize, so here's the deal:
Honor a special oncology nurse for CURE's 2010 Extraordinary Healer Award
for Oncology Nursing
For the fourth year in a row, CURE is giving you a unique opportunity to
honor an oncology nurse through the 2010 Extraordinary Healer Award for
Oncology Nursing! CURE will accept essay nominations from patients,
survivors, caregivers, and peers describing the compassion, expertise, and
helpfulness that a special oncology nurse has exhibited.
Three nurse finalists and the individuals who nominated them by essay, plus
one guest each, will receive round-trip airfare and two-night accommodations
in San Diego, where they will be honored at a reception to be held in
conjunction with the Oncology Nursing Society's 35th Annual Congress, on May
13th, 2010. One nurse will be presented with the 2010 Extraordinary Healer
Award for Oncology Nursing, and will also receive a special gift in
recognition of his or her service to cancer patients and survivors.
The deadline is April 5, 2010.
See http://bit.ly/76xoPg
I love my oncology nurses. I give them a mental hug every time I think of them. Perhaps they deserve more than invisible gestures of gratitude.
CSC news roundup 2009-12-24
- An adult tissue-specific stem cell molecular phenotype is activated in epithelial cancer stem cells and correlated to patient outcome by Thomas Hussenet and 4 co-authors, including Stanislas du Manoir, Cell Cycle 2010(Jan 23); 9(2) [Epub ahead of print][PubMed Citation][Connotea bookmark].
- Differential Destruction of Stem Cells: Implications for Targeted Cancer Stem Cell Therapy by Mary E Sehl and 3 co-authors, including Kenneth L Lange, Cancer Res 2009(Dec 15); 69(24): 9481-9 [PubMed Citation][Connotea bookmark][ResearchGATE entry].
- EZH2 Is Essential for Glioblastoma Cancer Stem Cell Maintenance by Mario-Luca Suvà and 12 co-authors, including Ivan Stamenkovic, Cancer Res 2009(Dec 15); 69(24): 9211-8 [PubMed Citation][Connotea bookmark].
- Hypoxia-Regulated Delta-like 1 Homologue Enhances Cancer Cell Stemness and Tumorigenicity by Yuri Kim and 3 co-authors, including Zhong Yun, Cancer Res 2009(Dec 15); 69(24): 9271-80 [PubMed Citation][Connotea bookmark].
- Cancer Stem Cells and Aneuploid Populations within Developing Tumors Are the Major Determinants of Tumor Dormancy by Anjali P Kusumbe and Sharmila A Bapat, Cancer Res 2009(Dec 15); 69(24): 9245-53 [PubMed Citation][ResearchGATE entry].
- Stem-like cancer cells are inducible by increasing genomic instability in cancer cells by Yi Liang and 9 co-authors, including Yi-Xin Zeng, J Biol Chem 2009(Dec 9) [Epub ahead of print][PubMed Citation][Early version of full text].
- Gene set enrichment analysis provides insight into novel signalling pathways in breast cancer stem cells by Michiko Murohashi and 9 co-authors, including Noriko Gotoh, Br J Cancer 2009(Dec 8) [Epub ahead of print][PubMed Citation][ResearchGATE entry].
- Brain Tumor Cells Made More Responsive to Radiation, ScienceDaily, December 3, 2009 [Stem Cells 2009(Nov 17)]][PubMed Citation].
- SOM scientists explore spice as complementary treatment option for colorectal cancer, Prognosis E-news, Wayne State University School of Medicine, November 24, 2009 [Transl Oncol 2009(Dec);2(4):321-8][PubMed Citation].
- Is ALDH1 a good method for definition of breast cancer stem cells? by Veronique Neumeister and David Rimm, Breast Cancer Res Treat 2009(Nov 28) [Epub ahead of print][PubMed Citation][Connotea bookmark].
- Single-Cell STAT5 Signal Transduction Profiling in Normal and Leukemic Stem and Progenitor Cell Populations Reveals Highly Distinct Cytokine Responses by Lina Han and 5 co-authors, including Jan Jacob Schuringa, PLoS ONE 2009(Nov 24); 4(11): e7989 [PubMed Citation][Full text in PMC][Connotea bookmark].
- Recurrent hepatocellular carcinoma cells with stem cell-like properties: possible targets for immunotherapy by Xiaolan Xu and 8 co-authors, including Zhiqian Zhang, Cytotherapy 2009(Nov 24) [Epub ahead of print][PubMed Citation][Connotea bookmark].
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Acknowledging the Negative
I am a great fan of another cancer survivor's blog, The Pastor's Cancer Diary". It is written (well written!) by Rev. Carl Wilton, a man living in a "slow motion crisis". He has a documented lymphoma recurrence that it just there, being constantly monitored, but for now not getting any better or worse. He's in a prolonged period of watchful waiting. Living fully with the uncertainty cancer brings to our lives.
He recently did a great post I recommend you read, The Glad Game.
This is an excerpt from his post:
"We cancer survivors hear a lot about the importance of maintaining a positive attitude. In many ways, that advice is but a warmed-over version of Pollyanna’s Glad Game. The problem is, no real person can be as relentless in playing the game as the fictional Pollyanna. Feelings of sadness and dejection sometimes present themselves, and that’s OK. They come with the territory.
If we take the “think positive” advice too seriously, we can end up denying the existence of those negative thoughts – which are only natural, after all. Sure, maintaining a positive attitude is important, but that doesn’t mean we can never give ourselves permission to feel anger, or sadness, or frustration or any of the other negative emotions that come from this kind of protracted struggle."
He also in his post quoted a hero of mine, Dr. Jimmie Holland (who I got to have lunch with once!!). She is a psychiatrist who has written books about the emotional aspect of cancer survivorship and who deals with the normal emotions cancer patients feel. She founded the science of psycho-oncology.
I've struggled a lot with the sentiment that we with a cancer diagnosis are always expected to "think positive". I've wondered sometimes why those who experience great physical trauma, heart attacks etc. are not held to the same expectation to "think positive" as we with cancer are. I loved that my mom, when she was hospitalized and paralyzed and disabled was able to tell me how depressed she was. I told her she had every right to feel depressed; life had dealt her a terrible blow, she had lost a lot. In her life at the time, depression was justified. It was a normal reaction to her circumstance.
But people don't say that to cancer patients. Somehow for us "staying positive" is supposed to help us beat our disease. We aren't allowed to feel depressed or frustrated or discouraged at the negative changes cancer has brought into our lives. We are supposed to deny those normal negative feelings. But denying feelings is always bad, I think. We need to be able to feel what we feel. To be honest. We can't move forward until we process those negative feelings; the grief, the hurt, the fear.
We need to be allowed to be who we are, to feel what we feel. To have support when we can't always be "positive". A cancer diagnosis deals us a terrible blow, in so many ways. Yes, we feel negative emotions.
We can't be positive until we process the negative. We need to be able to feel all that we feel. We need to be able to feel hurt and pain and anger before we can move beyond to the "positive". Negative feeling are normal and justified. We can't be "positive" until we process the negative.
He recently did a great post I recommend you read, The Glad Game.
This is an excerpt from his post:
"We cancer survivors hear a lot about the importance of maintaining a positive attitude. In many ways, that advice is but a warmed-over version of Pollyanna’s Glad Game. The problem is, no real person can be as relentless in playing the game as the fictional Pollyanna. Feelings of sadness and dejection sometimes present themselves, and that’s OK. They come with the territory.
If we take the “think positive” advice too seriously, we can end up denying the existence of those negative thoughts – which are only natural, after all. Sure, maintaining a positive attitude is important, but that doesn’t mean we can never give ourselves permission to feel anger, or sadness, or frustration or any of the other negative emotions that come from this kind of protracted struggle."
He also in his post quoted a hero of mine, Dr. Jimmie Holland (who I got to have lunch with once!!). She is a psychiatrist who has written books about the emotional aspect of cancer survivorship and who deals with the normal emotions cancer patients feel. She founded the science of psycho-oncology.
I've struggled a lot with the sentiment that we with a cancer diagnosis are always expected to "think positive". I've wondered sometimes why those who experience great physical trauma, heart attacks etc. are not held to the same expectation to "think positive" as we with cancer are. I loved that my mom, when she was hospitalized and paralyzed and disabled was able to tell me how depressed she was. I told her she had every right to feel depressed; life had dealt her a terrible blow, she had lost a lot. In her life at the time, depression was justified. It was a normal reaction to her circumstance.
But people don't say that to cancer patients. Somehow for us "staying positive" is supposed to help us beat our disease. We aren't allowed to feel depressed or frustrated or discouraged at the negative changes cancer has brought into our lives. We are supposed to deny those normal negative feelings. But denying feelings is always bad, I think. We need to be able to feel what we feel. To be honest. We can't move forward until we process those negative feelings; the grief, the hurt, the fear.
We need to be allowed to be who we are, to feel what we feel. To have support when we can't always be "positive". A cancer diagnosis deals us a terrible blow, in so many ways. Yes, we feel negative emotions.
We can't be positive until we process the negative. We need to be able to feel all that we feel. We need to be able to feel hurt and pain and anger before we can move beyond to the "positive". Negative feeling are normal and justified. We can't be "positive" until we process the negative.
Backache
Is it backache or is it mets? Only her oncolgist knows for sure.
My back has been bothering me for a couple of weeks now. Maybe longer -- I recall telling Dr E, the rad onc, about it. His response was to say that even people with cancer get lower back pain.
Mine might be complicated by the fact that by turning 50, I have officially hit middle age; there is almost no estrogen running through my body (because my cancer feeds on estrogen); and I'm not as flexible as I was when I was dancing 10 hours a week.
So I try to stretch in the shower while under the hot water. I take pain meds as needed for when it really bugs me. And I plan to mention this to Dr G when I see him tomorrow.
My back has been bothering me for a couple of weeks now. Maybe longer -- I recall telling Dr E, the rad onc, about it. His response was to say that even people with cancer get lower back pain.
Mine might be complicated by the fact that by turning 50, I have officially hit middle age; there is almost no estrogen running through my body (because my cancer feeds on estrogen); and I'm not as flexible as I was when I was dancing 10 hours a week.
So I try to stretch in the shower while under the hot water. I take pain meds as needed for when it really bugs me. And I plan to mention this to Dr G when I see him tomorrow.
Christmas at Healthy Spirits
Season's greetings from all of us at Healthy Spirits! We will be open on December 25 from the late morning to the early evening. Owner and beer master Rami will be behind the register, as Nate and I are away for the holidays.
Best wishes to all of you. Have a drink for me!
cheers,
dave hauslein
beer manager'
415-255-0610
Best wishes to all of you. Have a drink for me!
cheers,
dave hauslein
beer manager'
415-255-0610
Happy Holiday!
Yesterday I had coffee with C, from our Second Cup coffee group. We chatted for three hours ... wow. We hadn’t met in about 3 weeks so we needed extra time to catch up on things. Anyways, we got out of the coffee shop and everything looked so nice all covered in snow. Real Christmasy. We’ve had tons of the white stuff fall here lately which makes for very pretty scenery.
With Christmas in a couple of days, I’ll probably be posting videos only instead of blogging. I’m going to spend time enjoying family, the festive season and just relaxing.
Happy Holidays!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
A Bit More Coughing
The last couple of days I’ve really been focusing on having my legs up on cushions... above my heart ... for hours at a time ... and I can honestly say I notice my feet are less swollen. I can see most of the veins in my feet and that’s great. The only problem is that that I have a bit of crackling in my lungs and I’m coughing a bit more than usual.
Today I saw my chiropractor and I asked him if the fluid from my legs and feet was just moving to my lungs and he said it’s possible but not likely. He thinks the chemo is creating the havoc in my body and that is responsible for the extra coughing. I’ve noticed that my coughing goes up and down depending where I am in the cycle. So the Chiro said ... for today, we’ll skip the leg massage.
Anyways, today is the last day for this round of Xeloda and I have a two week break. I’m so looking fwd to be off that daily pill regimen for Christmas ...so I can just enjoy the holidays. My thoughts are with all those who are not so fortunate and will be struggling with chemo and its side effects thru this holiday season.
Taking a break
It's that time of year again when Rik takes a break from teaching. Yes, winter vacation started and competition for the computer has begun! Rik has papers to grade, so he is working hard at the beginning of vacation to finish all his work and then be able to relax.
I realized early on that marrying a school teacher would be like having an early taste of retirement. Every winter for two weeks, every spring for a week (and every mid-winter for a week), as well as from the end of June until September, we are both home all the time. That means potential competition for scarce resources, such as the computer, TV remote and car. On the other hand, it means we walk the dogs together. On the third hand, I cook more meals since we both eat breakfast, lunch and dinner at home. Today's breakfast was poached eggs and leftover latkes. Yum!
I am sure we will both survive the togetherness and be ready for Rik to go back to school in the new year.
I realized early on that marrying a school teacher would be like having an early taste of retirement. Every winter for two weeks, every spring for a week (and every mid-winter for a week), as well as from the end of June until September, we are both home all the time. That means potential competition for scarce resources, such as the computer, TV remote and car. On the other hand, it means we walk the dogs together. On the third hand, I cook more meals since we both eat breakfast, lunch and dinner at home. Today's breakfast was poached eggs and leftover latkes. Yum!
I am sure we will both survive the togetherness and be ready for Rik to go back to school in the new year.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
'Tis the season...for generosity
For all of you who want to support a worthy cause (and take advantage of the end of calendar year tax deduction), please consider Gilda's Club Seattle.
Named after actor and comedian Gilda Radner, who needed and found a place she could go to for support when she had cancer, Gilda's Club opens its doors to anyone living with cancer, their families and friends. I have been attending a weekly yoga class there for many years, since my cancer came back, and I am an active volunteer in raising funds to support this wonderful organization. I was even supposed to model and speak at their annual fashion show last spring, but went into the hospital with complications from chemo instead. I hope to model in 2010. All Gilda's Clubs programs are free.The Isaac family quoted in the letter below are my friends Josh and Kim Isaac and their children. Josh lives with metastatic epithelioid sarcoma, a rare cancer that took his left hand. Gilda's Club has been terrific for their entire family. You can read more about Josh's story on his blog, Joshua's Space.
Dear Friends,
Gilda's Club Seattle has had a year filled with many successes and many challenges. Our services are needed by more people and the economy has made it harder to find the dollars we need to keep moving forward. We know we are changing lives. Please read the following letter received this past August from the mother of two of our Camp Sparkle campers. It will tell you about one of the many reasons that it’s so important for Gilda’s Club to be here when someone hears “You have cancer.”
“For the past year a social worker has come to our house and met with Jacob (8) and Sam (5) together and separately dealing with the emotions of having a father with metastatic cancer and anticipatory grief. In March, I ran the Mercer Island Half Marathon and while walking around the exhibits came across Gilda's booth. By this time, Josh had been in and out of the hospital with lung complications and it seemed as if finding additional support for Jacob and Sam might be needed. The staff member shared the Camp Sparkle information with me and when I came home from the race I shared it with Josh and we both agreed that going to this camp together would be a perfect intro into life at Gilda's.
So when summer started we explained to the boys that at Camp Sparkle they would be with other kids who have a family member affected by cancer and they would get to go swimming, to the park, the museums, etc. Day one and day two of camp were a bit shaky. Both boys reacted with their various defense mechanisms and Josh and I looked at one another as if perhaps we made a mistake by signing them up. However, we charged ahead and not once did they say that they did not want to go to camp, not once did they say they didn't like it and after day two they went skipping into the red door on Broadway. On the last day of camp, I walked into the lobby and a young girl came running up to me and said, "is Sam and Jacob's dad dieing from cancer?" I responded by shaking my head yes. Her response was "would it be ok if I pray for him?" Of course my response was, “YES please do!” Next, Sam came running up to me and asked if he could come back to Camp Sparkle next year? Of course you can I told him and then explained that he and Jacob could visit Noogieland once a month if they wanted to, resulting in a smile from ear to ear.
For the last sixteen years I have spent my career raising money for social services, explaining the need for funds to support those who need it the most in our society. Now I am on the other side of this scenario and have become a recipient of the generosity of those who are supporting Gilda's Club…a place I did not think that I would find myself. However, I can honestly say that Camp Sparkle is truly a gift to those families who are able to attend this incredible and magical camp. Jacob and Sam (and hopefully their sister Sophie, 2 years old) feel that Gilda's Club is a safe place for them to be, to talk, to have fun and to feel love and support.
Simply, thank you!
Kim Isaac
By all accounts, 2010 will continue to be an economically difficult year, but for people who have cancer, their challenges will remain the same. For those of you who have already remembered Gilda’s Club Seattle in your holiday giving plans, thank you so much. We need to be here in the community for all of the Sams, Jacobs, Sophies, Joshs and Kims whose lives will be touched by cancer…and we need your help. Please make a gift of at least $100 to Gilda's Club Seattle to help us continue to ensure that no one has to face cancer alone. Please send a check to Gilda's Club Seattle or donate through our secure donation page. You may also donate at www.firstgiving.com/gildasclubseattle.
We thank you and wish you and yours good health and happiness in the holiday season.
Sincerely,
Anna Gottlieb
Executive Director
I hope you will consider making a generous donation today.
Control
I saw my oncologist for my annual visit this week (and I know how lucky I am only to be seeing an oncologist yearly now...I remember my very frequent oncology visits for many years).
I have a kind of fun story about my oncologist...the oncologist I saw for the first 7 years retired and moved to California. I liked her a lot. Being a nurse and knowing physicians in the community, I've always chosen my own doctors, and they are always the best. The oncology practice called me after my oncologist retired and told me they had chosen a new oncologist for me. I took offense to that, I told them I always choose my own physicians, I'd do some research and choose my new oncologist, thank you. The office staff told me the oncologist they'd chosen for me was a new one, they really liked him, and asked me to just give him a chance. I reluctantly said okay, I'd see him once.
Well, I fell in love with him immediately (in the medical sense)! We truly hit it off and the first time I saw him we talked for an hour and a half about new cancer research studies, integrative medicine, cancer genomics...all before he got around to examining me. I had been reading a book about integrative medicine that had just been published, he had been reading the same book. When I told him initially I had been evaluated by a surgical oncologist at a university hospital in Chicago who'd told me I had no hope and was untreatable, he immediately knew who the physician was before I'd said the name, and had had issues with that surgeon in the past. I left the office smiling and accepting the "I told you so's" from the staff after that first visit.
We again had a lot to talk about this latest visit. He is hoping to revamp the large oncology practice to make it more integrative. To have massage therapy, nutritionists, acupuncture therapy, exercise programs and a new building with a garden and a less clinical atmosphere available to patients. I think that is a wonderful dream. He said when that happens he wants me to be part of it, I would truly love that.
We got to talking about the emotional needs of cancer patients. We both talked about the depression we see in cancer patients after they finish therapy and are in cancer's "waiting room" without the chemo/radiation safety net. I had talked about the fact that in my experience in the cancer community everyone wants support from other cancer patients, but no one wants to join support groups. They have a bad reputation, no one wants to be around those who are "weak" and struggling. We talked about the need for there to be empowering support groups. In the past he had one called "Strategies for Success" that focused on maintaining optimum physical and emotional health, focusing on things one could do to help control cancer and prevent recurrence, ways to gain and maintain a sense of control after cancer. I think that is the kind of support we really need.
I think regaining control over our lives is crucial. I see so many cancer patients who pursue drastic dietary changes (only raw fruits and vegetables), who grab at anything that might give them a sense of control over cancer...meditation, visualization, vitamins and herbals, psychoanalysis to discover unresolved hurts that might have cause their cancer etc. etc. I tried some of that initially (visualization and meditation) but never stuck with it. I didn't change my diet (I still do McDonald's and fast food sometimes and don't eat enough fresh fruits and vegetables), but always wondered if I should. I think I, like all cancer patients, wanted to feel like I was still fighting, that I had some way to control my future and my outcome, that I still had tools. I wanted to feel empowered again. I wanted to own my life and my future again.
It would be great for cancer patients to be part of a program that promoted education into tried and true methods to reduce chances of cancer recurrence, that gave cancer patients a sense of control, that made them feel proactive once they completed treatment.
I have a kind of fun story about my oncologist...the oncologist I saw for the first 7 years retired and moved to California. I liked her a lot. Being a nurse and knowing physicians in the community, I've always chosen my own doctors, and they are always the best. The oncology practice called me after my oncologist retired and told me they had chosen a new oncologist for me. I took offense to that, I told them I always choose my own physicians, I'd do some research and choose my new oncologist, thank you. The office staff told me the oncologist they'd chosen for me was a new one, they really liked him, and asked me to just give him a chance. I reluctantly said okay, I'd see him once.
Well, I fell in love with him immediately (in the medical sense)! We truly hit it off and the first time I saw him we talked for an hour and a half about new cancer research studies, integrative medicine, cancer genomics...all before he got around to examining me. I had been reading a book about integrative medicine that had just been published, he had been reading the same book. When I told him initially I had been evaluated by a surgical oncologist at a university hospital in Chicago who'd told me I had no hope and was untreatable, he immediately knew who the physician was before I'd said the name, and had had issues with that surgeon in the past. I left the office smiling and accepting the "I told you so's" from the staff after that first visit.
We again had a lot to talk about this latest visit. He is hoping to revamp the large oncology practice to make it more integrative. To have massage therapy, nutritionists, acupuncture therapy, exercise programs and a new building with a garden and a less clinical atmosphere available to patients. I think that is a wonderful dream. He said when that happens he wants me to be part of it, I would truly love that.
We got to talking about the emotional needs of cancer patients. We both talked about the depression we see in cancer patients after they finish therapy and are in cancer's "waiting room" without the chemo/radiation safety net. I had talked about the fact that in my experience in the cancer community everyone wants support from other cancer patients, but no one wants to join support groups. They have a bad reputation, no one wants to be around those who are "weak" and struggling. We talked about the need for there to be empowering support groups. In the past he had one called "Strategies for Success" that focused on maintaining optimum physical and emotional health, focusing on things one could do to help control cancer and prevent recurrence, ways to gain and maintain a sense of control after cancer. I think that is the kind of support we really need.
I think regaining control over our lives is crucial. I see so many cancer patients who pursue drastic dietary changes (only raw fruits and vegetables), who grab at anything that might give them a sense of control over cancer...meditation, visualization, vitamins and herbals, psychoanalysis to discover unresolved hurts that might have cause their cancer etc. etc. I tried some of that initially (visualization and meditation) but never stuck with it. I didn't change my diet (I still do McDonald's and fast food sometimes and don't eat enough fresh fruits and vegetables), but always wondered if I should. I think I, like all cancer patients, wanted to feel like I was still fighting, that I had some way to control my future and my outcome, that I still had tools. I wanted to feel empowered again. I wanted to own my life and my future again.
It would be great for cancer patients to be part of a program that promoted education into tried and true methods to reduce chances of cancer recurrence, that gave cancer patients a sense of control, that made them feel proactive once they completed treatment.
Christmas art project.
WCK made this Nativity scene at preschool. Isn't it awesome? This is one of those hand-made Christmas decorations that I will lovingly get out and put on display year after year, until she's 35 years old. At least.
The best part -- and look really closely -- is that Mary has long eyelashes.
The best part -- and look really closely -- is that Mary has long eyelashes.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Chiropractor Appointment #4
Yesterday I had by fourth chiropractor appointment. He says things are moving along nicely and I agree. To strengthen my arms and hands, he wants me to start carrying around cans of soup around the house. That I can do.
I’ve been thinking about putting together some sort of exercise program but I’ve been waiting to start because I find I have sore muscles from just my increased everyday activities. As I walk more, my leg muscles are sorer ... the more I do my arm stretches, my arm muscles are sorer. It feels like I’ve gone to the gym the day before. I’m going to do all this slowly and carefully.
Other than that, I’m doing really well.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Sears Coffee Group Christmas Party
In 2001, a bunch of us ladies met at a Breast Cancer Support group. We’ve been meeting every two weeks for coffee for nine years. We call it the Sears group because we used to meet at the Sears cafeteria.
Last night we had our annual Christmas get-together at J’s home. All six of the ladies are breast cancer survivors and were there and of course Ari, our mascot, who was all decked out in his Christmas attire. He sure is a handsome fella ... don’t you think?
We all brought a little something for the meal but to be honest we all waited anxiously for the ‘piest de resistance’ which is Erm’s dessert. Each year she does an amazing dessert and this year was no exception. She made a Yule Log ... oh so delicious. After stuffing ourselves, we moved to the living room to open the gifts we exchanged. I gotta tell ya ... the girls sure are creative in their giving.
What a pleasure it is to be a part of this great group of gals.
Living While Black/O, the Tribune
[Is this breast black or white?]
For a while, there's been the term DWB--Driving While Black--African-American drivers report being pulled over for this offense. Now we're finding out (again) that it's dangerous to be LWB, especially in Chicago. Today's Tribune reports on a study that showed that the African-American death rate from breast cancer in 2005 was 99 percent higher in Chicago than for white women, a fivefold increase since 1990.
This is not new. Chicago Magazine reported on this a couple of years ago, or a version of this--a previous study by the same researchers at the Sinai Urban Health Institute. The same bad news: Chicago is worse than other cities. The gap between black and white health here is widening. The Trib is careful to quote an African-American doctor who partly blames the victim--the problem is partly lifestyle, she says; partly it's poverty; and partly lack of knowledge about health.
Hmm, says Cancer Bitch to herself, why is it that this is the only person in the story who's identified by race? Could it be that everyone else quoted is "normal," i.e., white, and so doesn't have to be identified?
The health study was published online yesterday in the American Journal of Public Health, the Tribune avers. It identifies Steve Whitman (no race), director of the Sinai Urban Health Institute as the author of the study. The conclusion drawn from the study, according to the journal abstract: Overall, progress toward meeting the Healthy People 2010 goal of eliminating health disparities in the United States and in Chicago remains bleak. With more than 15 years of time and effort spent at the national and local level to reduce disparities, the impact remains negligible.
You can find the abstract of the piece here. You can get the article for 30 bucks from the AJPH site.
Along these same lines, but even more depressing: A Rush University Medical Center study published in November showed that Chicago's black and white breast cancer mortality rates were the same in 1980. This was also in the Chicago Magazine story. From that piece, by Shane Trisch:
We've arranged things in this country so that the darker your skin, the shorter your life will be--Steve Whitman.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Jingle Bell what?
Just a bit of WCK's version of "Jingle Bell Rock":
"Mixin' the mangoes with the jinglin' peeps ... That's the Jingle Bell Rock!"
"Mixin' the mangoes with the jinglin' peeps ... That's the Jingle Bell Rock!"
Drama
My mom took me to see lots of plays when I was a little girl. She always got season tickets to the children's theater in Omaha, so we went all the time. Even though I didn't have a gift for being in plays (see previous post about "Ring me slow"), I loved going to see them, especially musicals. I always hoped WCK and I could go see plays together.
A little over a year ago, I took WCK to "Busytown", which was based on Richard Scarry books. You know, the books with the cute, fuzzy animals and Lowly the worm. She did OK until there was a part with firefighters rushing around the stage, trying to put out a pretend fire, and then she got scared and proclaimed all plays "scary." Once WCK proclaims something "scary", it can remain scary for years, even when it is clearly not scary. I mean, for the love of God, Elmo is not scary, WCK! She just makes up her mind that something is scary, and that's the way it is.
For a year, I searched for a play that could not possibly have anything remotely scary in it. I finally came across a production of "Goodnight Moon" at the same children's theater that put on "Busytown". I knew "Goodnight Moon" could not possibly contain anything scary. I wasn't even sure how anyone could create an hour-long production based on "Goodnight Moon", since the book takes about three minutes to read and has no plot and no dialogue, other than the old lady whispering, "Hush."
WCK complained bitterly when I told her we were going. We had to sit in the very last row of the theater, and she crouched down on the floor and watched the play between the spaces between the seats. But by the end ... success! She decided the play was not scary. She liked it. She wanted to go back for more plays!
So last week we went back and saw "Madeline's Christmas", based on the book. You know: "In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, lived 12 little girls in two straight lines ..." WCK loved it, and she didn't even sit on the floor. She sat in my lap, but that was not out of fear. She's so light that those folding theater chairs squish her in half. As a bonus, we've been reading a lot of the Madeline books, too.
Whew. I can't wait to go to more plays.
A little over a year ago, I took WCK to "Busytown", which was based on Richard Scarry books. You know, the books with the cute, fuzzy animals and Lowly the worm. She did OK until there was a part with firefighters rushing around the stage, trying to put out a pretend fire, and then she got scared and proclaimed all plays "scary." Once WCK proclaims something "scary", it can remain scary for years, even when it is clearly not scary. I mean, for the love of God, Elmo is not scary, WCK! She just makes up her mind that something is scary, and that's the way it is.
For a year, I searched for a play that could not possibly have anything remotely scary in it. I finally came across a production of "Goodnight Moon" at the same children's theater that put on "Busytown". I knew "Goodnight Moon" could not possibly contain anything scary. I wasn't even sure how anyone could create an hour-long production based on "Goodnight Moon", since the book takes about three minutes to read and has no plot and no dialogue, other than the old lady whispering, "Hush."
WCK complained bitterly when I told her we were going. We had to sit in the very last row of the theater, and she crouched down on the floor and watched the play between the spaces between the seats. But by the end ... success! She decided the play was not scary. She liked it. She wanted to go back for more plays!
So last week we went back and saw "Madeline's Christmas", based on the book. You know: "In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, lived 12 little girls in two straight lines ..." WCK loved it, and she didn't even sit on the floor. She sat in my lap, but that was not out of fear. She's so light that those folding theater chairs squish her in half. As a bonus, we've been reading a lot of the Madeline books, too.
Whew. I can't wait to go to more plays.
Fat Calves
“Do these couch cushions make my calves look fat?”... I asked D the other day … long silence. I figure we may as well make fun of my fat calves. Yesterday and today, I’ve spent time with my legs elevated and resting on couch cushions and they look fat. It’s hard to say if keeping them up there is making a difference but I’m going to continue doing it and hopefully with time, this will help the fluid will drain out.
Last night I went out with some girl friends I used to work with. It is such a pleasure to go out with these gals and I really appreciate them taking the time to go out with me. I know how busy this time of year is when you are working. It didn’t take long for me to realize ... I was such a chatter box. I can be a bit of a talker and now that I’m feeling better ... that is coming out in me.
The restaurant is a great steak place which was right up my alley because due to my poor appetite I haven’t had steak in about a year but lately I’ve been thinking a lot about having one. So that worked out just great.
What I want for Chanukah
Every Jewish Star Trek fan needs this for Chanukah -- a Star Trek menorah!
Seriously. Gene Roddenberry (ST's creator), stars William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy and actors Walter Koenig, Brent Spiner, and Armin Shimerman are all Jews. Nimoy created the Vulcan hand sign that goes with "live long and prosper" from the way the kohanim (Jewish priestly class) bless people. (My dad taught me this when I was a child on the theory that every Cohen needs to know how. You place both hands in front of you, thumbs near each other, and spread your fingers so there is a space between the second and third fingers.)
Once upon a time my friend G gave me the ultimate Star Trek gift. It's a photo of the original crew on the bridge of the Enterprise with a Barbie doll subbing for a blonde, female ensign. Star Trek Barbie has a place of honor on our bookshelf!
Click here to read about more Star Trek Jewish moments.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Soyoyoy
Soy has been another one of those things--unclear whether it's bane or boon to women whose tumors feed on estrogen. The reason is that soy has estrogenic properties. Thus, Dr. Keith Block, who practices integrative medicine, advises women with estrogen-positive tumors to eat soy no more than two to three times a week. On the other hand, the very mainstream oncology bigwig from Fancy Hospital said that women with estrogen-positive tumors could have soy a couple of times a day. He said this at the Town Hall meeting this fall, but he didn't quote any studies that led to his recommendation.
Now comes a study from Vanderbilt and Shanghai. Researchers looked at 5,000 women with breast cancer. They found that those with the highest intake of soy protein had a 29 percent lower risk of death during the study period, and a 32 percent lower risk of breast cancer recurrence compared to patients with the lowest intake of soy protein. Women with both E-positive and E-negative tumors had positive results. http://jama.ama-assn.org/cgi/content/abstract/302/22/2437?home=
“I would say that this study would indicate that women with breast cancer should (eat) soy products,” says Dr. Xiao Ou Shu, an epidemiologist at Nashville's Vanderbilt University Medical Centre who authored the study. “I think that it shows there is protection there.”
So bring out the edamame, which I'd been eschewing all this time, and let's cut up the tofu, which I've always maintained is the original manna.
New Stuff
1. Ballast Point Sculpin (Limited Quantities)
2. Hopus Belgian Ale
3. Drake's IPA 6pk
cheers,
dave hauslein
beer manager
415-255-0610
2. Hopus Belgian Ale
3. Drake's IPA 6pk
cheers,
dave hauslein
beer manager
415-255-0610
The Santa Experience
I think WCK is getting all Santa-ed out. She has Santa fatigue.
We saw him the first time this season a few weeks ago, when he showed up unexpectedly at Fun Run while WCK was playing with her friends. She went wild with excitement and practically stalked the poor man until she was able to go tell him what she wanted for Christmas.
Shortly after that, she got in the car one day after school and told me that Santa and Mrs. Claus had visited her school that day. There was a candy cane in her backpack to prove it. She was happy about the Santa visit, but slightly less excited, and she still hasn't eaten the candy cane.
After that, we passed by Santa at two different malls/shopping areas, and WCK had absolutely no interest in going to see him. Little did WCK know, I'd already signed us up for "The Santa Experience."
Yes. Nowadays, it's not good enough to go visit a Santa at a mall. You must sign up in advance for "The Santa Experience."
Do not ask how much I paid for "The Santa Experience." I will not tell you. Let's just hope that WCK's future employer values life experience (in the form of, say, a Santa Experience), because the child can no longer afford to go to college.
After an elf checked us in, we were guided to the first area of "The Santa Experience" The kids got special stationery and wrote letters to Santa. WCK patiently sat in her little chair and printed "BABY DOLL" and "HANNAH MONTANA" on her stationery. I might have coached her a little bit, because I said I had a feeling that Santa might bring her those things. Then an elf put her letter in the Magic Mailbox. When the Magic Mailbox was opened, it made a roaring, vacuum-cleaner-like sound and shot artificial snow everywhere. It was pretty dang cool, but it made WCK a little nervous.
Stop two on "The Santa Experience": We decorated a little picture frame shaped like a Christmas tree. Of course, I didn't order an Official Photo small enough to fit in our Official Frame, because by the time I got to the photo-ordering booth (stop six), the frame-making activity had been erased from my memory. Fortunately, Santa personally autographed our tree frame, so I can probably sell it for big bucks on e-Bay.
Stop three: The visit with Santa himself. WCK actually protested this. "But I already saw Santa!" she said. She did have a good point. She'd met with him. She'd said her piece. He'd agreed to her terms. Why did she have to tell him again? I finally coaxed her into the Santa room, and then Santa enticed her with some candy canes. We did get a cute picture, but I wondered what I was doing, encouraging my child to go hang out with a stranger who offers her candy.
Stop four: Cookie decorating with Mrs. Claus. Each kid got a big sugar cookie and got to decorate it with different colors of icing, under the careful supervision of Mrs. Claus. Mrs. Claus said that most kids eat about half their cookie. WCK ate the whole thing, because she's an over-achiever, and because it was about an hour past our lunch time by the time we got to the cookie room. Poor Mrs. Claus was sporting a broken arm in a sling, which she said she'd gotten from ...
Stop five: A very slippery room filled with artificial snow. That's right. Mrs. Claus said the snow was made from a combination of flour, water, and a secret formula imported from Japan. I don't know what the secret formula was, but the snow actually felt cold. It didn't melt. It was sort of a gel-like substance. It freaked me out a little bit, especially since it was slippery as heck and had already taken down Mrs. Claus, but the kids LOVED. THE. SNOW. If an elf hadn't gently reminded us an hour or so later that Santa needed to leave to feed his reindeer, we'd probably be there still.
Stop six: This is where I forked over WCK's college fund for a photo of her with Santa. Of course, she looks very cute in her picture with Santa. The two of us were able to go out for a nice lunch together, and I can promise her that we'll never have to speak to Santa again. Isn't that what Christmas is all about?
We saw him the first time this season a few weeks ago, when he showed up unexpectedly at Fun Run while WCK was playing with her friends. She went wild with excitement and practically stalked the poor man until she was able to go tell him what she wanted for Christmas.
Shortly after that, she got in the car one day after school and told me that Santa and Mrs. Claus had visited her school that day. There was a candy cane in her backpack to prove it. She was happy about the Santa visit, but slightly less excited, and she still hasn't eaten the candy cane.
After that, we passed by Santa at two different malls/shopping areas, and WCK had absolutely no interest in going to see him. Little did WCK know, I'd already signed us up for "The Santa Experience."
Yes. Nowadays, it's not good enough to go visit a Santa at a mall. You must sign up in advance for "The Santa Experience."
Do not ask how much I paid for "The Santa Experience." I will not tell you. Let's just hope that WCK's future employer values life experience (in the form of, say, a Santa Experience), because the child can no longer afford to go to college.
After an elf checked us in, we were guided to the first area of "The Santa Experience" The kids got special stationery and wrote letters to Santa. WCK patiently sat in her little chair and printed "BABY DOLL" and "HANNAH MONTANA" on her stationery. I might have coached her a little bit, because I said I had a feeling that Santa might bring her those things. Then an elf put her letter in the Magic Mailbox. When the Magic Mailbox was opened, it made a roaring, vacuum-cleaner-like sound and shot artificial snow everywhere. It was pretty dang cool, but it made WCK a little nervous.
Stop two on "The Santa Experience": We decorated a little picture frame shaped like a Christmas tree. Of course, I didn't order an Official Photo small enough to fit in our Official Frame, because by the time I got to the photo-ordering booth (stop six), the frame-making activity had been erased from my memory. Fortunately, Santa personally autographed our tree frame, so I can probably sell it for big bucks on e-Bay.
Stop three: The visit with Santa himself. WCK actually protested this. "But I already saw Santa!" she said. She did have a good point. She'd met with him. She'd said her piece. He'd agreed to her terms. Why did she have to tell him again? I finally coaxed her into the Santa room, and then Santa enticed her with some candy canes. We did get a cute picture, but I wondered what I was doing, encouraging my child to go hang out with a stranger who offers her candy.
Stop four: Cookie decorating with Mrs. Claus. Each kid got a big sugar cookie and got to decorate it with different colors of icing, under the careful supervision of Mrs. Claus. Mrs. Claus said that most kids eat about half their cookie. WCK ate the whole thing, because she's an over-achiever, and because it was about an hour past our lunch time by the time we got to the cookie room. Poor Mrs. Claus was sporting a broken arm in a sling, which she said she'd gotten from ...
Stop five: A very slippery room filled with artificial snow. That's right. Mrs. Claus said the snow was made from a combination of flour, water, and a secret formula imported from Japan. I don't know what the secret formula was, but the snow actually felt cold. It didn't melt. It was sort of a gel-like substance. It freaked me out a little bit, especially since it was slippery as heck and had already taken down Mrs. Claus, but the kids LOVED. THE. SNOW. If an elf hadn't gently reminded us an hour or so later that Santa needed to leave to feed his reindeer, we'd probably be there still.
Stop six: This is where I forked over WCK's college fund for a photo of her with Santa. Of course, she looks very cute in her picture with Santa. The two of us were able to go out for a nice lunch together, and I can promise her that we'll never have to speak to Santa again. Isn't that what Christmas is all about?
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