Ringing the Proverbial Bell

a reckoning of sorts. plus, some things I learned during chemo.

Celebrating the last day of chemotherapy.

The following reflects my personal experiences with cancer treatment. I’m sharing what I learned in the hopes that some may find it helpful. But we are all individuals with different circumstances. So please take this with a grain of salt and consult your doctor before following my lead.

In case you missed it, I had the good fortune to be interviewed by

Alicia Dara

in

Womancake Magazine

. You can read the interview here. I recommend you consider subscribing to Womancake. Alicia is onto something!

***

The other day a photo memory popped up on my phone and it made me sigh. It was taken in Palm Springs, eight years ago. My hair is lush, my lipstick is perfectly applied, my sunglasses look cool, my face is slender, my smile is content. I look like the best version of me, which is not how I currently look.

I currently resemble Bob Odenkirk in Season 1 of Fargo, minus the mustache.

The thing is, I remember that trip (I was visiting California colleges with my daughters and Palm Springs was a little respite). I didn’t look great or particularly good at all.

That photo, taken in the motel parking lot, following the selfie instructions I had received from my niece (hold the phone up high, stand slightly to the side, say the word apple, and smile) was an illusion.

Nevertheless, I used it as a profile picture for several years.

A few days after that picture popped up, I had a consultation with a cancer rehabilitation physiatrist. It was one of the best doctor’s appointments I’ve ever had.

We talked about how to prepare for my upcoming radiation treatment and the cumulative fatigue I was experiencing from chemo. I learned that I wasn’t eating enough protein, that I really need to get a handle on my disrupted sleep, and that I was overexerting myself, pushing past the Zone 2 endurance training heart rate zone that is best for me right now, depleting my limited energy.

I feel seen.

And then we discussed the toll these past few years have taken on my body: cervical cancer + 1 surgery; intestinal intussusception + 2 surgeries; breast cancer + 1 surgery and three months of chemotherapy, with 20 sessions of radiation on the horizon.

Not to mention menopause.

“You’ve had a lot of cortisol racing through your body,” the doctor said.

From there, we devised a plan to get me in the best possible shape to withstand radiation, and a strategy for lifelong optimal health and strength.

She set me up with physical therapy, recommended some books I might find helpful and gave me nutrition, exercise, and energy charts (everyone on my oncology team knows I love reference materials).

I felt heard. I felt understood. I felt hopeful.

Then she gave me the reality check I needed to hear.

“If your old clothes don’t fit, get rid of them. Your body is not the same as it was before.”

I’m dorkily diving in - counting my daily grams of protein and fiber, keeping my phone away from my bedroom, monitoring my heart rate when I exercise and most important - not beating myself up anymore for what my body is and isn’t doing.

When I told my oncologist how much I appreciated the referral to the physiatrist, she said, “It feels good to be in control.”

Last weekend, J and I saw Jon Batiste in concert here in Seattle. While waiting in line to get into the theater, a neighborhood acquaintance spotted me in my black beret and shouted, “I thought you were moving to Portugal.” “I got breast cancer instead,” I shouted back, and I felt kind of bad.

I was at the height of chemo fatigue, with a wonky stomach, unable to move with the music, but Jon and his band transported me anyway. Jon is such a versatile joyful musician and his positivity resonates with me.

****

There is no bell to ring at my cancer infusion center, which is kind of disappointing. To be done with 12 weeks of poisonous drip is a milestone worth celebrating, even though it’s just one part of this year-long treatment.

So instead, with Jon Batiste’s Freedom as our soundtrack, we went to Seattle’s Volunteer Park, where I spread my wings, and then we took shelter from the rain inside its Botanical Garden. The bloom metaphor was not lost on me.

We took our dog for his evening walk and when we got home, J looked at the wind chimes above our back door and said, “Do your thing.”

Thank you to the cancer survivors who have shared their wisdom and resources with me and to everyone who has offered encouragement. It’s my turn to pay it forward. I’m packing up my supplies and sending them to someone about to start treatment (Good luck, P!!!).

Here are a few chemo tips I have to share:

• Keep all your port-accessible shirts in one section of your closet. It makes getting dressed much less stressful on treatment days.

• Believe them when they say you’ll have good days and bad days and don’t beat yourself up when you’re feeling crummy.

• As several people wisely advised me, your energy reserves will be finite, so use them judiciously.

• Try to move every day, even if all you can manage is a walk. They say it helps with fatigue and that was certainly my experience. I did Yoga with Adriene every morning. That was the best coping with chemo advice I received (thanks, MJ!).

• If hair loss concerns you, find out if your type of chemo responds to a cold cap. I opted not to use the full-on cold cap system. Instead, a friend gave me a Fomi gel ice cap, which I think is designed for migraine relief. It worked for me and I was able to retain 50% of my hair. There are a number of products out there, so check them out.

• Headphones and audio distractions are helpful during the pre-med drips, when you get sleepy and don’t feel like reading.

• If you plunge your hands and feet in ice to prevent neuropathy, find something gripping to watch. For us, it was Slow Horses. It made the hour-long chemo drip pass quickly.

• If people offer to cook you meals, take them up on it. Infusion days can be long and it’s nice to have dinner waiting for you.

  The Best Thing I Cooked This Week

  

  Yotam Ottolenghi’s Sweet and Sour Tofu with Barberries

Man, I’ve missed cooking in the joyful, unfettered way that I used to, but I know it will come back for a while in the weeks prior to radiation, and afterwards, once I’ve recovered from the cumulative fatigue I’ve been told to expect.

The advent of spring always makes me want to cook Persian food. I made Saffron Chicken, from Naz Deravian’s lovely book, Bottom of the Pot.

Then, I made this exquisite, delicate, lovely Ottolenghi recipe featured in the Sunday New York Times magazine. We had it for dinner and I snacked on leftovers whenever I needed an afternoon protein hit.

Here’s the gift link for you.