Monday, December 15, 2008

My Achilles' heel



Ladies, don't throw away the removable pocket of your mastectomy camisole! You can use it to cover your toes when you get your foot in a cast to heal your Achilles tendon! NB: When the temperature drops to the teens, you'll have to use a fuzzy sock instead.

Yes, I am casted in fiberglass. It looks like I broke my leg. The cast is there to keep me from moving my foot up and down so that my Achilles tendon can get some rest. It needs to rest because a couple of weeks before the cast, the back of my ankle hurt every time I walked. It is not ruptured, but it is inflamed.

When the cast is removed, on Dec. 22, I will need twice-weekly massage for I don't know how long. Three days later we are going to San Francisco, land of hills.

I'm driving everywhere instead of walking and clumping up and down the stairs and using elevators. I've been to two of my regular yoga classes and I was able to do some of the positions. But having your foot semi-permanently flexed does get in the way of many things, including downward-facing dog and child's pose.

Achilles' mother, you may recall, made him immortal by dunking him in the River Styx. Unfortunately, she held him by the heel and so that part of his body was vulnerable, mortal.

There are other stories about Achilles. They say that he tried to avoid his predicted death from battle by dressing as a woman. All the girls were offered presents. He outed himself by choosing a weapon instead of something girly.

But as we all know, in myths you can't outwit your fate. It comes and grabs you and shakes you and makes you weak.


His fatal flaws, besides his mortal heel, were pride and stubbornness. He died by an arrow shot into his heel. Which must have hurt way more than my tendonitis.



The cause of my pain is overuse or worn-out shoes or cortisone or antibiotics. Antibiotics? How does that make sense? We take one remedy for one problem then of course the side effects cause another problem, for which we have to have treatment. And so on and so on until we slip slide away.

road blocks

My counts were too low for chemo today. I will have a blood transfusion tomorrow and hopefully start chemo next week. This is quite disappointing- although I always dread the "red" cycles, this would have been my halfway mark. HALF WAY. This marker, for some reason, spells relief. Now it'll have to wait.

I've also begun radiation, which has made me incredibly tired- I go home and pass out every day. The actual procedure only lasts a minute or so. It's freaky, like something out of a Kubrick film- they play piano lounge music, the lights dim. You pull down your pants. Lasers come at you from all angles. A huge machine rotates around you, buzzing and clicking. It's like a crazy space disco party. But way less fun.

Saturday night I went to a local bar with good friends. I saw people from my past- kids I remember from elementary school, jocks from highschool. They all look the same, same haircut, same clothes, just fatter. I wondered where their lives have taken them (I doubt very far). And then, for a split second, I felt lucky that I have cancer. I was grateful for the experience, the chance to grow eons above these guys in highschool who used to make fun of me. Even though I am a skinny, weak, hairless mess, I feel as though I could lift a ton above my head. In a way, I am more confident in my own strength than I have ever been. So, here's to personal growth.


vicki and kaylin in younger times

Holiday Tradition - Caramel Popcorn

Find out how we make our family favorite caramel popcorn at Open Mouth, Insert Fork.

As a matter of fact, I think I'll go indulge in some right now to celebrate my clean scans.

Funny Little Butterflies

They're wreaking havoc in my stomach this morning because today's an "envelope day," when I find out the results of my PET and CT scans at the City of Hope. I'll also find out what those whacky eosinophils have been up to.

I'll post after my appointments this morning.

UPDATE: Hurrah! The scans are clean; I'm still in remission.

We're still waiting for the lab results of what's called the eosinophil (EOS) differentials and should have them back tomorrow. If we find that the EOS are on the rise, we'll develop a plan.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

A first step toward identifying prostate CSC

Making the paper: Wei-Qiang Gao, Nature 2008(Dec 11); 456(7723): xiii [Published online 10 December 2008]. Excerpt:
Search for prostate-cancer target identifies stem-cell population.

The cancer-stem-cell theory holds that tumours are formed by a very small population of self-renewing cells. The idea is controversial, but developmental biologist Wei-Qiang Gao hasn't allowed that to hamper his lab's quest to find such cells in the prostate. He and his colleagues have achieved an important first step — identifying the normal adult stem cells responsible for generating prostate tissue in mice.
[This article is not publicly accessible].

The Quest for the Imperfect Purse

Because of the tag line on this blog, I'm frequently asked, "Have you found the perfect purse?" or "Is that the perfect purse?"

The answer is always, "No, but I'm still on a quest."

I did, however, find an imperfect purse recently.

I discovered this vintage crocodile handbag at Hughes Estate Sales in Altadena. Doors open at 8:00 am for the once-a-month warehouse sale, but dealers and civilians start lining up a half hour earlier. It was handbag love at first sight, and I grabbed it without a moment's hesitation.


The imperfect purse


What made it irresistible? The fine crocodile leather, the exquisite craftsmanship, the leather lining, the brass top closure and hardware, the classic shape (which reminds me of the handbags in my sidebar). It is in impeccable condition, but has a faint smell of my Grandma Opal. I think the scent is a combination of stale Clove gum, pressed face powder and old pennies.

What makes it imperfect? It's too formal to carry every day; it looks a little out of place with blue jeans or yoga pants. It truly is a "handbag," designed to be clutched in hand or dangled on the lower arm, not the shoulder. No, it's not the perfect purse, but it's a classic that I'll keep forever.

And at $60, it was a steal. It's similar to this one pictured at left, available online for a starting bid of $250. Even the lining and inside compartments are identical to mine. Another look alike I found online is selling for 350 pounds.

I'm quite happy with my new handbag, even though it's not the perfect purse. I just ask one favor. If you see me carrying it, resist the urge to chant, "Here comes the doctor. Here comes the nurse. Here comes the lady with the alligator purse."



Do you also think of Ruth Buzzi's character on Rowan and Martin's Laugh In when you hear the word "handbag"? It was the ultimate weapon of male destruction.

Surprise!

I love to be surprised, but I almost never am. For some reason, the people who give me gifts always tell me about them ahead of time. Today, Jay and WCK went out on a Secret Mission. When they got home, WCK ran upstairs excitedly to find me.

"MOMMY! MOMMY!" she yelled. "WE GOT YOU A PRESENT!"

"Just don't tell me what it is," I said. "I'll be surprised on Christmas Day."

"OK," she said, and paused for about two seconds. "IT'S LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE!!"

She then started dancing around singing, "It's Little House on the Prairie!" over and over.

At least I don't know exactly what it is. Is it a book? A video? A tin cup with a shiny penny inside? I can't wait to be surprised.