CHAPTER 1 Posted November 2007 So let’s talk about brighter things… If you didn’t happen to catch the article in the Star News, I was diagnosed with stage IV ovarian cancer in September. After my hysterectomy on October 9th at UNC-CH (Hey, my surgeon took my appendix. I once read that the appendix was used to digest hair and fur. Mastodons can be pretty hairy. Anyway, little did my surgeon know that I have quite a few cats and I imagine my appendix has come in very handy over the years.) I decided that I did not want to make that drive every three weeks for chemo. I entered a clinical trial here at the Zimmer Center and I had my first chemo treatment on November 14th. Pretty gnarly stuff. (The trial lasts approximately 18 months, 22 treatments) I was pretty much a basket case that first round. Some of my experience was related to my anxiety over what the chemo was going to do to me and my doctor believes that I may have also had a reaction to the steroids which they give you for the nausea. For those of you who can remember your first experience with labor, the anxiety is similar: you know it is probably going to be hell, but you aren’t quite sure just how hellish it is going to be. Fortunately for most of us, we have a beautiful new baby to show for all the pain. After the worst effects of chemo have resided, you feel like several trucks have hit you and then you start to lose your hair. Then I get to do it all over again in 3 weeks. Imagine going into labor every 3 weeks? Although my digestive tract took the major hit, Thanksgiving was still wonderful. I spent it out in the country with friends. The weather was perfect and we started with an oyster roast. I wasn’t quite certain that I could handle an oyster, but they were freshly harvested and roasted over an open fire and I figured what’s the worst that could happen? I’d puke. I didn’t. They were soooo good. Moving slowly from the oysters to the real meal (literally), I managed to have a little of everything, plus seconds on the persimmon sweet bread. Incredible. I was physically miserable for the rest of the evening, but I refused to let the chemo ruin my Thanksgiving. So there! My scalp started hurting a few days after Thanksgiving and then my hair started falling out in earnest. I really didn’t think I’d have a problem with the hair loss and kind of looked forward to the idea of going incognito for a few months. But then I had a major hair crisis that resulted in my having one huge dreadlock on top of my head after I had washed my hair. I took several deep breaths to calm and center myself and spent the next hour trying to untangle my hair. When I was finished, there appeared to be more hair in the trash than on my head. Time to go see my stylist who just happens to be certified by the American Cancer Society. (Isn’t the universe interesting?) The earliest he could get me in was at 5pm the day of my last council meeting. So I was going to have to face the “world” with my new doo before I even had a chance to get accustomed to it. (As anyone who has seen it knows, it’s really short.) I raced home, threw on a suit, and then rushed over to Thalian Hall for, what turned out to be, my coup de grace. STAY TUNED FOR PART 2.   HEY, WHILE YOUR WAITING WHY NOT TAKE THE POLL? I’M TRYING TO STAY ON TOP OF THINGS AND WOULD LIKE YOUR OPINION. oh, and if you feel like it, I could really use your prayers.  I am accepting all denominations.   Cancer is just like the proverbial fox hole.     CHAPTER 2 Posted December 2007 After the first round, I figured I’d better develop a better relationship with this chemo stuff if I’m going to allow it to do the good things it is designed to do. Why go through all of this if you don’t embrace the healing qualities of chemo?? So now my mantra is “Chemo is my friend”; not a very nice friend at times, but a friend. My second round of chemo was on December 5th. Fortunately early enough in the month to allow me a somewhat normal Christmas. I was just starting to feel like a real human again and I found myself back in the chemo room. “Chemo is my friend.” For those of you who haven’t been in the chemo room, it is actually a very bright, cheerful place full of folks in various stages of “baldingness”. Unfortunately the place is usually packed, which has a great deal to say about the state of our environment, but that’s a discussion for another time. (You can take the woman out of politics, but you can’t take the politics out of the woman.) The nicest part about the chemo room, besides the nurses, are the warm blankets. The blankets are the real reason most of us actually visit the chemo room. Although this is one hell of a way to get a warm blanket wrapped around you! (Am I allowed to say “hell”?) My first area of concern during this treatment was how much it was going to hurt to have a needle reintroduced into my port after 3 weeks of non-use. For those of you lucky enough to not have had any reason to deal with cancer, they surgically implant a port/catheter either in your chest or in your arm which they use for the chemo and for drawing blood. My port is in my upper left arm and combined with my surgery scar and the drainage tube hanging out of my right lung, I really do look like some science experiment gone awry. I am such a baby. Every week when I go for my blood work they always ask: “Port or arm.” I say take it out of my arm! I was prescribed a numbing cream to put on my port before chemo, but if it worked, I sure as hell couldn’t tell. Oops, I said it again. My nurse, Lynette, who is such a pro, hit the entry on the first try, but it still hurt. Once that was over, my next area of concern was the new drug that they were going to be mixing in this time (the trial drug). You never know whether you will have a reaction, so I was little apprehensive during the last 90 minutes of treatment. All told that day, I spent 7 hours in chemo and that didn’t even include an hour usually waiting on the results of the blood work. The effects were not quite as bad as the first time. They backed off on the level of steroids and I wasn’t quite as anxious about what was coming. Also, I took the anti-anxiety medicine as soon as I felt the effects kicking in. The first thing that happens to me is I get little rosy cheeks. I call it my “chemo flush”. My digestive tract was not as impacted this time, but I was in a lot more pain. My legs ached and my knees really hurt. My feet and fingers started to go numb and are still feeling a bit numb 3 weeks later. I’m fairly certain I received the new drug and not a placebo because all my wound areas were very painful for days, to the point that one evening as I went to bed, I was certain that I’d be calling 911 some time during the night. But through all this, I knew that eventually I would start to feel better. And I did. The fatigue wasn’t quite as bad this time and I was able to cook for myself and had my energy back sooner. I still have my hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes after this round. Although I am not expecting it to stay this way. I am finding that it is almost like I am dressed for a costume party every time I go out. People I have known for years, introduce themselves to me. I am constantly receiving this, “I think I know this woman but I’m not quite sure who she is” look from acquaintances. I wave at people I know when I’m out walking Raven and they are hesitant about waving back. I like not having my hair; it forces people to look at my face, to really see me! Friends have inundated me with cookies and candy for the last few weeks. The good thing is I have a terrible sweet tooth and I could use a few pounds. The bad thing is the sugar  “feeds” the cancer * and I have no willpower when a cookie is calling me. Sweets are like the Sirens and I must respond by making a cup of tea and , well, give in to the Siren’s call. And like the sailors in Greek mythology, those sweets are luring me to my death. So, if you want to humble me with your wonderful gifts and thoughtfulness, please bring carrots, or broccoli, or cauliflower. Produce is not sexy, but it’s much better for me. I juice, so I go through a lot of carrots. Love you all! Merry Christmas! *For those of you who are interested in the impact of sugar on cancer (or other diseases) in a nutshell: (please remember I am an accountant, not a scientist) glucose and vitamin C have similar chemistry and compete for absorption by your cells. If there is too much glucose, cells will absorb that and not the vitamin C they need. Your immune system suffers and the good cells that fight the cancer slow done and don‘t do their job effectively. The root for most, if not all diseases, is always going to be at the cellular (not phone) and molecular level, and more often than not insulin is going to be involved, and may even be driving the problem. Researchers at the University of California, San Diego (UCSD) School of Medicine have targeted a sugar that supports blood vessel growth in tumors. In essence, feeding the cancer. There is also the issue of maintaining your ph in an alkaline rather than an acidic state, but I’ll get to that later when I discuss my struggles with changing my entire diet. Next treatment, December 27th.   See ya then.    CHAPTER 3 Posted January 2008 I received a very wonderful Christmas gift from friends: cable! (Thank you Alice and Tom) I thought I was the only one in Wilmington who didn’t have cable, but I ran into an acquaintance at a Christmas eve oyster roast who was hooked up the day before I. My hookup required a great deal of patience which ran out after waiting and calling Time Warner for 8 days. I've never had cable in my building, so it required hand digging and burying cable some 200-300 feet. Based on the lack of response to my calls, I honestly did not believe that Time Warner really wanted to spend the time or money to do this work. After the last woman I spoke with wouldn’t allow me to speak to a supervisor, I decided it was time to call in the Big Guns. I speed dialed the City Manager (yes, I still have him on speed dial, as does he me) and he gave me the name of our contact, the Regional Governmental Affairs person for Time Warner.  Marty, the TWRGA person, was great. Within two hours I had my cable install scheduled and had the phone number for the person who handles “ball fumbling by the local office”.  I had the trench digging guy here the next day and cable on Christmas Eve. This whole incident is just another example of why I ran for office. The average person cannot call the Time Warner Regional Governmental Affairs person to get something to happen. I should not have had to call the TWRGA person to make certain I received cable. Everyone should be treated the right way regardless of their age, race, financial situation, or in this case, location to the nearest cable access. Just like in the chemo room, everyone should be treated as if they were the most important customer. Is it time to run for office again? I’m ready, baby!!! Now that I have cable, I’m ready for the next round of chemo. When I wake up at 3am I can go to the living room and watch reruns of McHale’s Navy. Or I can flip to CNN for a fascinating lecture on the use of fertilizer in some third world country. Or I can watch BRIDEZILLA. I watched 2 hours of Bridezilla the other evening. It was a train wreck. If God were to ask me, do you want cancer or do you want to behave like those spoiled, obnoxious, unenlightened, self-serving women on Bridezilla, I’d have to opt for the cancer. These women, whose fathers or soon to be husbands are spending $90K+ on a 150 person wedding, cannot be for real. Surely they couldn’t possibly have any friends who would be willing to be bridesmaids, let alone fiancés. Granted, the men are somewhat slovenly, dull, and not too attractive, but sainthood doesn’t require buff, just patience and miracles. And boy, these guys have a lot of patience (I also noticed they seem to drink heavily.) And it’s truly a miracle that these women are still alive. I’ve decided this will be a good show to watch at 3am. It will help keep me grounded and content to be suffering through another round of chemo. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!! About that 3rd round of chemo: if the cancer don’t kill me that there chemo will. Despite having an hellacious (as in distasteful and repellant not as in extraordinary and remarkable)ringing in of the new year (down for 8 days), I want to tell you all how truly blessed I am. I am hearing from folks I haven’t spoken with in years. So many kind, supportive, letters of encouragement from both old and new friends. Many times during the day as I check emails and write these little updates, I am boo-hooing and blathering over my keyboard. (This of course worries my very old lab. She wobbles over and cocks her head and gives me those sad brown eyes. The cats give me that “Get over it” look and move to a warmer spot on my desk.) Yes, for those of you who I haven't spoken with in years, Raven is still alive and, depending on how things go, may possibly out live me! Lost another 10 pounds in the last week. Weight Watchers ain’t got nothing on the Zimmer Cancer Center. Despite the fact that losing all that weight in such a short period of time wears me out, this round was also a tough one mentally. Perhaps it was the turning over of this past year that impacted me also. I’m certainly not one to dwell or wallow in my unfortunate series of events, but being felled by the chemo, unable to eat, unable to sleep, not having the energy to get the dog out, pain, forgetfulness, to feel so limited physically (unlimited energy and great health were always my strong suit) and not knowing where all this will lead had me a little undone this time. Especially as each day passed and I wasn’t feeling any better. Even today, 8 days since chemo, I’m feeling very puny. For those of you who don’t know, 2007 was supposed to be my year. At least that's what all those folks who gave me those informal readings of my numbers told me.  Based on how my year transpired, I'd have to say they are either charlatans or I'm going to have to start paying for the information! So let’s briefly review: Met a wonderful man; enjoyed my first few months on city council (so far, so good); started to have back pain in April; the farm work started to become more difficult; buried my Dad in early July (he died 9 years ago, but the burial was extremely emotional for me, especially with Mom so ill); Mom died later that same month (still feel like an orphan); son experienced a major crisis; health continued to deteriorate during August; door to door campaigning became more difficult; son and dog moved back in with me (900 SF) to help him get back on his feet; hospitalized in September for unknown lung disorder; diagnosed with cancer; had to quit work; forced to file a very public bankruptcy to protect my property from an unscrupulous credit card company; major surgery on election night; lost the runoff; started chemo; after sufficient time and no significant activity, kicked son and dog out to fend for themselves…Even my pesky anonymous hate mail writer sent me another few letters to remind me just how pathetic a person with a pea-sized brain and a sad, unfulfilled life can be. Yes, 2007 was a killer year! (Fortunately the wonderful man is still here and has shown incredible character, strength, humor, and commitment especially over the last few, very difficult, months. © ) It is also fortunate that depression is not in my nature, because if it was, I would probably not be here now. But on to brighter things. My lab work is coming back looking pretty good. The main blood test, CA-125, has shown a significant turnaround. The acceptable range is 4-30. At the time of my surgery I was at a high of 288. After two rounds of chemo, I am down to 9. Of course, none of this is exact science. I don’t have any tumors to be monitoring; this cancer just sort of coats everything. So until they cut me open again and look around, all we can do is monitor stuff and poke around a little. Hopefully, I can have my pleural tube removed in another week or two. This Bride of Frankenstein paraphernalia is beginning to wear on me! Just started noticing that I'm shedding again. Oh well, knew it wouldn't last. I am feeling a little better today, and I think I may be ready to start my new website page, Port City Ponderings. Watched the induction of our new firefighters last evening and, based on the Chief's speech, there is definitely some fodder there! Then, of course, there's this year's first council meeting next week. There is a rezoning scheduled for a major downtown development project that I believe would put Wilmington on the map and turn an industrial wasteland into a magnificent grand entrance to the city. There is some strong opposition, but , in my opinion, I believe that some of the arguments are weak. Haven’t seen the agenda yet, but it might just be filled with nuggets. A good time should be had by all!  Have to get on with my day. Need to meditate, paint a little, run some errands, and most importantly, dwell on the beauty of the day, all my good fortune, and the wonder of having so many kind and thoughtful friends, acquaintances, and supporters. My oldest and dearest friend from 8th grade (40 years ago. Gawd, we can’t be that old!) who I haven’t seen in several years will be visiting next week and I’m looking forward to the reunion. It’s great to be alive!!!! Next chemo session is January 17th--  (Valerie Bertenelli and other Jenny Craigers: eat your hearts out!  I know, I'm watching way too much television!)   Chapter 4  Posted January 28, 2008 It is now January 10 and that last round of chemo is still hanging on for dear life. After two weeks of major digestive disorder, aka diarrhea, I was advised to try the BRAT diet. This is not to be confused with BRAC, Base Realignment and Closure. (One of the tougher decisions we had to make this past year on council was determining a new usage for a small Army center that will become available to the city in several years. There was a great deal of turmoil and distress, not unlike my bowels.) If anyone is uncomfortable with a discussion about diarrhea and bowels, as my cats would say, “Get over it.” We’re talking about cancer here, not a Caribbean cruise related sunburn. Despite my upbeat and light approach to this journey, there are plenty of very dark alleys one has to venture into on occasion. I’m not any happier about it than you, probably less so because I’m the one who has had to stay several steps from a bathroom for many days, but I’m trying to provide an honest look at this rotten dis-ease. This puts a real crimp in your social life, or just life in general. It is painful, uncomfortable, and not only physically draining, no pun intended, but it wrecks havoc on your mental well being also. And this is just the effects of the chemo. I do not want to have to experience any symptoms from the cancer again. Anyway, the BRAT diet consists of Bananas, Rice, Applesauce, and Toast. I have been attempting to devise some delicious combination of these foods to treat the gourmet in me, but what it boils down to is that this is a diet they give new mothers when their babies are having digestive trouble. Going from smashed peas to this isn’t a big stretch for a baby. For me it is pretty bland. (And I was so looking forward to Yosake’s Firecracker Shrimp tomorrow evening!) Also, I have only replaced 1 pound of the 10 I wanted to replace before next week’s chemo. So unless some inner orangutan in me comes out, I’m probably not going to have enough time to “bulk up” by the 17th. My attitude towards the chemo is better when I know I have a fighting chance. My friend Dori came to visit this weekend from Charlottesville. And despite my BRAT diet, we went to Yosake for dinner. No, I didn’t order the Firecracker Shrimp. I ordered the Chicken Noodle Soup. Safe, warm, comforting, easy to digest. Little did I know that it would not be Chicken Noodle Soup. Yes there was chicken and yes there were Chinese noodles, but that is where the similarities ended. It was spicy, tomatoey (sp? I know that this is a word), and thick; I knew I was in for trouble. It was the most fantastic soup I’ve ever eaten. I wasn’t able to eat much of it but I still paid the consequences later. As soon as I am finished with chemo, I am going back to finish off a full bowl! Almost time for the next chemo treatment and I am not well. So I decided to enlist the aid of two health care professionals: a Network chiropractor and an acupuncturist. The pain, sickness, and distress of these last few weeks prompted me to seek help outside of the allopathic solution of using pharmaceuticals. I’m getting enough of those every three weeks. These professionals are working on providing me relief from the symptoms of chemo, not making any claims to cure my cancer. With that said, since I believe that this dis-ease is caused by mental, emotional, and physical stress, I believe their work will help my body relate with and react to the cancer. January 17th- Chemo day. I not only had a six hour round of chemo but I also had to go to radiology for a minor procedure: the removal of my pleural tube. At least everyone thought it was going to be minor. In and out in 30 minutes. Well thirty minutes turned into 4 hours. I was at admitting by 8:30, then on to the in-patient area, was hooked up to an IV, then had to wait for the surgeon, and wait, and wait. (Once I got to radiology the procedure did take about 30-45 minutes.) Then back to recovery for a while longer. I finally made it to the chemo room. Fortunately this was one of the 2 good days I’ve had these last three weeks so, despite the weight loss and major bout of diarrhea, I was feeling strong. Since I was the last patient to leave that evening, I was able to spend some quality time with several of the nurses. They are a good group, very knowledgeable and compassionate. It was also nice that I was feeling well enough to cut up with them a little. I am on day 6 of the 4th round of chemo. The pain during the first couple days has been just incredible. Fortunately, as I’ve mentioned, I started seeing an acupuncturist last week. I am amazed at what he is able to accomplish. I’m not a skeptic, I just have never done acupuncture before and didn’t realize how immediate the work is. The chemo is doing a number on my nervous system. My feet have been numb since the first round and my knee pain wakes me up at night. But in my first visit, the numbness in my feet was reduced dramatically. The second visit, no more knee pain. I still feel as though I have lead weights tied to my legs, but that is probably related to the fatigue. Segue: You know how, after an individual dies, you need some information or answers from them and of course it is too late? Not just your parents, who you never realized how much information and wisdom they held until it’s too late, but friends and acquaintances too. Well, I was just thinking the other day about the bread man we had in NJ when I was about 6. He picked me up in his truck on my way home from school one winter day, because I was throwing up in the street. (Isn’t that just what kids do?) Anyway, I tried to remember the other things he would deliver besides bread and I knew my Mom would know. And, of course, she is no longer here to answer such absurd questions, but I know I would have gotten her laughing uncontrollably because of the absurdity! Much of the time we‘d spend on the phone would be the two of us trying to regain our composure. (Before the internet there was my Mom, Muriel Sawyer, who we would call day or night for information on any topic, ranging from poetry to sports. She was amazing even at 90.) That was a real weird tangent. Wow! What I really wanted to share is that I got to thinking about Paul Meadows, a local chiropractor who died this summer. I met Paul several years ago at a Libertarian Party meeting. The Libertarians were all about me losing my property to Cape Fear Community College, so invited me to speak. I started attending on a more regular basis, because I related with some of their principles and because we usually had intelligent, philosophical discussions generally driven by Paul. He could be tough, argumentative, and a little ornery, but deep down he was a real softy. He also became a major supporter and really challenged me at times on my positions. And now is the time when I would have benefited from a sit down with him to discuss ways to relieve some of the stress of the chemo and he’s not here to share his years of professional wisdom with me. And also his kind heart! Segue completed. As I was making my 8th (?) visit to my bathroom today in severe distress, I thought about how awful it would be to have to die like this. I know it’s selfish of me, but I want to die like most of us do, fast and old. I’d like to die in my sleep at a very old age after having spent a wonderful evening feasting with friends and family. Slipping into bed with that old guy who has put up with me for years and who adores me despite the fact that I look like an old lady. Perhaps we’d fool around; perhaps just snuggle. Then I’d drift off to sleep and be gone. I think about what kind of life one has to lead in order to go out like that. I’ll do whatever it takes ‘cause I certainly don’t want to go out like this. Day 8 of this last round. I had an incredible moment today with my chiropractor. She was struggling with my energy and finally placed me in a new position. She asked me to lift my head and look up and I felt something dissolve. Then this rush of energy to my legs. I straightened my body out and felt this tingling feeling (a good tingling feeling) throughout my body accompanied by a very warm golden-white light that flowed through my body and a voice or a sense that everything was going to be okay. I started to cry. It was something I’ve never experienced before. I cried in her parking lot; I cried in the parking lot at Lowe’s food; I cried on my deck. I just have to get through this god awful chemo. I have been feeling much more energetic this round and have been able to EAT!! My tube is out (YEA!) and the suture removed ( a hot bubble bath is just around the corner.) Digestion problems are at a minimum. Although my energy comes in spurts, or maybe I just do too much when I am feeling better, I may actually have 10 good days before my 5th session. The only major thing I am contending with is pretty significant pain around my abdomen, like someone hit me with a baseball bat and all the muscles and ligaments have been torn. But that will not stop me from doing too much! Speaking about doing too much, I am really struggling with this. I have always been able to do too much and then been able to muster additional energy to do even more. Well I am finding that I do not have that ability right now. The limitations that I am experiencing are almost harder on me mentally and emotionally than physically. For example, I’m involved with writing this blog, painting paintings, painting my bedroom, doing a little PR work (will talk about this more next time), doing some bookkeeping for a friend, writing a new play… It still doesn’t seem like enough. I was at the last Democratic Party meeting and when they asked for candidates to run for various offices, I almost jumped up and threw in my hat for the county commissioner’s race. And that was after only 4 hours of feeling better. It is humbling to be so limited. Looking at this philosophically, it does afford me another major opportunity to practice and Buddhism is all about practice: patience, and love, and compassion not only for others but, almost more importantly, for yourself. Next round is on February 7th. Until then, I‘ll be practicing.   CHAPTER 5  Posted 3/10/08 Round 4 continued to be pretty good up until several days before round 5. It started with an inability to watch House after the Super Bowl. Looked like it was going to be a good show too. When they got to the hospital scenes I had to turn it off. Guess I’m spending too much time there and not having a lot of fun. The real nut job stuff began two days before I had to go back. Not eagerly anticipating the incredible fun of the chemo room, I began to develop a little anxiety which turned into physical symptoms: edginess, stomach issues, fatigue… By Thursday morning feeling pale and puny I forced myself to go back to Zimmer. After lab work and visits with my research nurse, Dr., and PA ,where I let them know I wasn’t too crazy about being there for chemo, I was off to my chair in the chemo room to wait for the pharmacy to fill my many bags of chemicals. Within 15 minutes I found out I was DENIED. It’s pretty bad when you get DENIED chemo. My platelet count was too low and we would have to wait a week to see whether it improves enough to pump me full of more stuff that will continue to destroy my bone marrow (which is now not effectively producing platelets). Oh, boy! Until then, no running with scissors. I am also low enough on magnesium to require a supplement. For those of you who aren’t interested in the science of this, move on to the next paragraph. Upon doing a little research I discovered just how important magnesium is. Magnesium is the fourth most abundant mineral in the body and is essential to good health. Approximately 50% of total body magnesium is found in bone. The other half is found predominantly inside cells of body tissues and organs. Only 1% of magnesium is found in blood, but the body works very hard to keep blood levels of magnesium constant. Magnesium is needed for more than 300 biochemical reactions in the body. It helps maintain normal muscle and nerve function, keeps heart rhythm steady, supports a healthy immune system, and keeps bones strong. Magnesium also helps regulate blood sugar levels, promotes normal blood pressure, and is known to be involved in energy metabolism and protein synthesis. After returning home from the hospital and walking Raven, I took a 4 ½ hour nap. (Does 4 ½ hours constitute a nap or a daytime bedtime?) Anxiety and stress can sure wipe you out. Next treatment, Valentine’s Day. Until then I want to tell you about a very interesting story I heard on NPR’s Science Friday on January 25th. (Oops, sorry about that you science phobics, move on to the next paragraph.) They interviewed Robert Cooke, the author of Dr. Folkman’s War: Angiogenesis and the Struggle to Defeat Cancer (2001). (Told ya to go to the next paragraph!) Dr. Folkman passed away in January and spent most of his career working on a silly little theory he developed regarding cancer tumors requiring their own blood source to survive. In 1971, Folkman published a paper in the New England Journal of Medicine arguing that angiogenesis was a key component in the growth of tumors. If a way could be found to limit the growth of blood vessels servicing a tumor, he reasoned, the tumor would be unable to grow. Finally, after more than 30 years of fighting the established medical and scientific order (those bastards!) cancer patients were being used to test drugs that essentially were developed based on his original theory Why is this important? Well, Dr. Folkman could very well be the guy who cures cancer and yours truly is in a clinical trial to test the effectiveness of Avastin, an angiogenesis drug, on ovarian cancer. Although the main use for the drug is in treating macular degeneration, the drug has been very effective treating colon cancer and lung cancer. Yes, as always, there are some rather exciting side effects, but it is not a chemo drug. So far I’m pretty certain I’m receiving the drug (blind study) due to nosebleeds and a good deal of pain at the site of my incision. The FDA Patient Information Sheet on Avastin regarding the possible side effects states that the list is not a complete list of reported side effects. I love it! The list has 22 side effects but there are “more that you can find out about from your healthcare provider“. And of course, the common side effects are very similar to the chemo, drats! Fatigue, nausea, mouth sores, shortness of breath, skin peeling, stomach pain, decreased white blood cells, headaches, and my personal favorites: diarrhea and constipation. Some of the serious side effects can, of course, lead to death. Half of the procedures I’ve been through in the last 5 months can lead to death. Life leads to death also, so I’ve pretty much gotten over that news flash. Two more chemo treatments with the Avastin and then onto 16 more treatments with only the Avastin or placebo. I am an officially bald person. My scalp started to hurt again and I was getting a little sparse on the sides, so I just decided to shave it off. It’s was quite a shock getting out of the shower and seeing my very white head in the mirror. Whoa! I had to go to the theater that afternoon and wasn’t ready to go public with my very white head, so I wore a wig. I cannot figure out which is weirder. Now that I’ve gotten accustomed to it, I kinda like it. It is so convenient and when the weather is warm it feels great. Still feeling a little ET at times, but other than that I’ve only worn the wig a handful of times and I probably won’t wear it again. Was in the waiting room at Zimmer for my weekly labs and a woman and her husband were seated across from me. She looked very fretful. A nurse came by and noticing my new “doo” rubbed my head and gave me a compliment. The woman’s husband then took the opportunity to mention that he liked the way it looked, too. The woman, so extremely fearful, said, absolutely not, she would not be seen out in public like that. I told her it was quite a change for me, but it felt better (no more scalp pain) and jokingly said, it is so easy to care for, I might just keep it this way. She just shook her head no and said she wouldn’t look like I do with no hair. I told her you just don’t know, it could be a very sexy look for you. She just shook her head no. So fearful. I asked her if she had started chemo. She said no, that she was going to find out today if she was going to need it. I got called, thanked them for the compliment and wished her good luck. Cancer is going to change this woman’s life like she cannot begin to imagine, some of it for the better. We all have to face suffering from time to time. Only a small part of it is dealing with something that has happened to us, out of our control. But the larger part of suffering is the aversion and resistance that we feel or our attempts to hide from it. This woman’s aversion to her “future” suffering and her fear of what lay ahead was causing her more suffering than how she was actually feeling at that moment in the waiting room. Hopefully her news was good. Felt almost normal the other evening (for about an hour)and it really surprised me. It reminded me of listening to music or any loud noise over a steady period of time. You kinda get use to the sound and then when it stops, the silence is deafening. It’s the same thing with all the pain and other ailments. It’s a constant cacophony and then when you feel good for a few moments, the well being is deafening and startling. All of a sudden you become aware that you are feeling well and then don’t want to relish the moment for fear that any observation or acknowledgment of it will make it disappear. Thinking the other evening that with everything I’ve been through this last 12 months I haven’t had a spiritual meltdown which is not like me: I’ve always had spiritual crises about everything. I’ve always questioned, prayed about, and challenged my beliefs. I’ve read and argued and demanded answers. I’ve blamed and forsaken and gone through several dark nights of the soul. I’ve turned away, come back, gone away, come back. I’ve turned things inside out to find the truth, to find my purpose, to understand the suffering we all face. And now, dealing with one of the most significant events of my life, there is no spiritual chaos; no wrenching of garments, gnashing of teeth, or wailing. All those years of trying to find answers and realizing there were none, at least none that were acceptable to me, and then many years of learning, leaning, and practicing Buddhism have allowed me a peace that I’ve never experienced before. It’s not resignation or martyrdom. It’s not “your will, not mine” exactly. I’m certainly not reconciled to everything that’s happening right now. For the first time in my life I have a very strong sense of my place in this world. I may never have the time here to get to all those things that I want to, but I have a voice and I want to use it to provide comfort, compassion, love, and peace to all those people out there who are so afraid. Afraid of life, afraid of death. We are all in the same boat. Together. Like the woman at Zimmer today. She may not even need chemo, but I saw her fear, I knew her fear, I felt it from across the room. I have no hair and I‘ve another round of chemo a day away, but those things are now so insignificant in relation to what that woman was facing while she waited. Chemo 5 has finally arrived. I feel so good after having an additional week of cleaning out my body that I really hate to ruin it. I have a friend visiting from Syracuse this weekend so I’m hoping not to be too sick after the INFUSION. Fortunately my friend Joyce is very self-sufficient and supremely optimistic so she was able to enjoy her time in Wilmington on her own. I hit the couch at noon on Saturday after a trip to the beach and I was down the rest of the weekend. Another visit is to be scheduled for May when I should be a much better tour guide. Sitting in my living room eating pot pies was not what I had planned for our Friday night. Chemo 5 hasn’t been too difficult to handle. Lot’s of pain but getting rather accustomed to it so it doesn’t freak me out too much. My acupuncturist takes care of the most significant leg pain. I was able to start eating again sooner and have actually had a positive weight gain these last few weeks. I was even able to join the Diva’s for dinner this month. I have not been well enough to be out with them for months. (FYI- the Diva’s is an informal group of Republican women who meet once a month for dinner. My friend Rosemary and I are the token Democrats. I think they were curious about me when I was first elected. Now I’m just one of the group. We do try to stay away from partisan political discussions: ) We had a great dinner at Brasserie du Soleil (very good, especially the many, many, dessert offerings, but a little pricey). Thank god I was Rosemary’s guest…. (I’ve always enjoyed writing, but never had much time for it. Usually an essay or opinion piece here and there. Fiction, too difficult. But if someone had told me I’d be writing a narrative of my life I’d have laughed. What a wonderful distraction.) I’m happy to be alive and really enjoying it!   CHAPTER 6   Posted 4/11/08 (Sorry I took so long to post this one!) Okay, who the hell is that woman who wrote “I’m happy to be alive and really enjoying it!”. What a Pollyanna . Blah, blah, blah. Chemo 6 hit me like a ton of bricks as soon as I got home. No day and a half grace period for this one. I hit the couch on Thursday afternoon and didn’t eat anything for almost six days. Even now, day 8, and my digestive system is still a little out of whack. The physical stuff is bad enough, but the psychological part of this is unbelievable. Normally I’d say the psychology is “fascinating”, but I’ve temporarily misplaced those rose colored glasses. Even though I know that I will be feeling back to normal in the next few days, it seems as if food will never again taste the way it should. And for me, that is a real hit to the old psyche. I watched 6 hours of Anthony Bourdain on Monday. (I don’t know about you, but he really makes me laugh. You may have to be a Yankee to appreciate his sense of humor and his accent. But every experience is either the best experience he’s ever had or it’s the worst. It’s either the best thing he’s ever eaten or the absolute worst thing he’s ever eaten. There is no middle ground. Such an NYC New Yorker!) I digress. By then I was feeling good enough to know how hungry I was. Everything he was eating looked wonderful., even the really fringe stuff. I could almost taste it, but the reality at that moment was that I couldn’t taste it. I couldn’t taste anything. Even water tastes tasteless and almost undrinkable. Patience has never been my strong suit, so once again another opportunity for spiritual growth. When all you want to do is taste something, this spiritual growth thing gets a little trying. Same thing for being sacked out for several days. Patience. Yes, it’s beautiful out, yes, there is a lot to be doing, yes, you’re ready for all this crap to be over. Patience. Time to crank up the incense and do some meditating! The Star News has asked me to write an article for the paper. Which I agreed to. I had been hoping to share all this and bring awareness to ovarian cancer while being on council. But since things did not pan out for that to happen, writing an article is the next best thing. I am experiencing some slight trepidation about putting all this cancer mess out there in the public domain. The website is one thing; the newspaper is completely different. I just have to take a leap of faith that most folks who read it will be friends not foes. I asked why they wanted to do this story and Vaughn Hagerty, the editor I’m working with, told me that people want to know what happened to Pat Delair. Oh really?? So I am starting to write “The Ovarian Adventures of Pat Delair”. The are limiting me to 700 words and I already know that at 700 words, I’m just getting started. Perhaps if they like what I write, they’ll give me a couple hundred more. A man I met once, very briefly, died today in a tragic helicopter accident. I met John at the dedication for SABLE. He came over and introduced himself to me and thanked me for speaking out about the fire chief’s retirement. We spoke long enough for me to know that he loved being a fire fighter and that he loved flying. Ruminating over his death lead me down that very twisty path where no answers lie. In my ponderings I realized how grateful I am for being given this gift that has allowed me to be open to the peculiarities of each day and the pain of living life. I stayed so far away from that for so long. Not wanting to feel the sorrow and pain and heartache that caring for all those others (in our very extended family) brings to our life. I wept for a man I hardly knew and for a family I’ve never met and I thanked God for allowing me that ability. That I’m able to feel this connection, the compassion and love, for a man who died too soon and for the people whose lives will be forever changed by this incident. I prayed that they will have their hearts opened by this event just as mine as been laid open by the cancer. I was responding to an email the other day from an organization that is opposed to collective bargaining for municipal employees, especially fire fighters and police. They are attempting to fight a bill that has passed the House and is moving into the Senate. They are concerned about the unfunded mandates that this may have on local taxpayers. As I tried to explain how important I felt labor organizing is to ensure safe working conditions, fair wages, etc. I found myself, yes once again, going down that path where no answers lie. The more I explained what I believe community is, and how each community needs to decide what to spend tax dollars on, the argument became more difficult and the subject more thorny. I became a little disheartened and walked away from my email response without sending it. The realist in me began to feel that my time was wasted attempting to convince this individual to re-think their position. Then I got to that really dangerous place, “what’s the use?”. But the idealist in me couldn’t let it go. I had to understand what it was that I was really feeling. A few days later it occurred to me that perhaps my sense of "why bother?" had to do with my attempt (and of course failure) at controlling a situation I couldn’t control. But the question that remained was, how do I keep that from stopping me from continuing to make the attempt to convince someone to re-think their position on something? This is exactly what I faced on city council at almost every meeting. I just wanted the people on this board to take the time to re-think some of the more significant decisions. The ones that would impact people. The ones that didn’t make sense. The ones that were incongruent with previous decisions that had been made. The worst thing that can happen is for us to become ineffective and impotent in the face of despair. But perhaps we do need to step back and realize that not all battles need to be fought, and if we decide to enter the fray, we have to be okay with the fact that they don’t need to be won. I always tried to approach a matter with no attachment to it; I didn’t need to “win” I just wanted to see some light bulbs turn on. Nothing. Not even the recognition that my position (which was the position of others in the community) was remotely interesting or valid. Truly amazing.  Now I sit in my living room and watch the meetings. One surreal moment after another. I’m on day 14 and still not feeling very well. I am having some whopper nose bleeds which I am attributing to the Avastin, but my platelets are also very low so that is contributing to it. As a matter of fact all my blood work is low, so my doctor has recommend I go in to the cancer center tomorrow for 2 units of blood. I attempt to talk my way out of it, but they are not negotiating. I have a very full day planned and have to cancel everything. What’s worse, I have 24 hours to mull it over and really get myself worked up. I have donated blood for over 30 years and it never once bothered me. But the idea of getting someone else’s blood really unnerves me. It doesn’t get any better once I’m in the chair in the chemo room. (That is also the other issue I am having with this: another whole day spent in the chemo room.) I arrive at the hospital at 9am, do my negotiating, fail miserably, have blood drawn for a type and match, go to yoga class, then right into chemo. I leave Zimmer at 4:45pm. Quality of life: priceless. They told me that one of the positive side effects is more energy. Four days later and I’m not feeling the love. I wasn’t feeling bad enough to stay home after the blood transfusion. My friend Karan was in town and we had dinner at The Little Dipper. I have not seen her since the diagnosis and we had a lot of catching up to do. What a great meal and conversation. Although my energy level did not match her energy level this evening, I was able to hang in there through the chocolate fondue. (Can you say, “Naughty girl!”) Our dinner was wonderful except when Karan would reach across the table, grab my hand, stare at me and start tearing up. Although I know she was just expressing her concern, I felt as if she knew something I didn’t. I think we were equally unnerved: me by her gesture; her by my no hair thing. My sister is planning a fundraiser and I thought it would be nice to have teal (yes, that is the color they assigned, whoever they are, to ovarian cancer) ribbons. Teal? Were all the other primary colors taken? Teal? Teal is an odd color. It’s similar to the Crayola crayon colors: is it green-blue or blue-green? There was a difference as I recall. (I haven’t sniffed a box lately.) I asked my folks at the hospital where I could find some teal ribbons. I had been online and not found a site that carried them. I also wanted ovarian cancer literature, such as a small handout or fridge magnet identifying symptoms. Nothin’, nada, zip. Hmmm, I may have to get on this…. I spent about on hour on Friday with Matt Born. He’s the Star-News photographer who’s been following me around the last few weeks. Talk about getting over any self-consciousness I have about my looks. It’s a peculiar thing having someone constantly snapping pics of you. He is such a nice guy (not intrusive and very sincere) and I hated to ignore him, but I finally just had to pretend he wasn’t there. We spent our hour on Friday shooting a headshot for the article. He was working so hard to get just the right look which is much more difficult when you don’t have hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, pale skin (the blood transfusion hasn’t kicked in), and looking worn from the pain, surgery, etc. He’s a professional and I trust he and Vaughn (why I would trust the Star-News to be gentle with me, I do not know) to pick a decent photo. Next week I start a new phase of the trial. I’m hoping the transfusion has corrected all my blood deficiencies and we can get on with this. I’m just glad that the chemo is over, hopefully for a very long time, because my body has had enough. Over the next few weeks I’m hoping my digestive system gets back to normal, all the numbness dissipates, my energy level returns, and my hair starts to grow back. It’s a lot to ask of my body, especially considering what I’ve just put it through. Perhaps we’ll start with sleeping through the night!   Chapter 7 Posted May 2, 2008 The article in the Star News came out on Easter. I had no idea that this is what they (Vaughn Hagerty and Matt Born) were envisioning for my story. Wow! I have to admit, this is so much nicer than having Chuck Riesz criticizing me in that interesting way in which he operated, ironically, for things we agreed on. I have received some very beautiful and uplifting emails. Although a couple letters punched me in the gut with the reality of this terrible disease, most were upbeat. Matt did a fantastic job with the photos and the head shot came out great (it’s difficult when you don’t have much to work with). Yet it is still somewhat difficult for me to see myself the way I am right now: almost 54, no hair, no eyebrows, no eyelashes, looking quite tired and worn. (The bald thing would be great if you could really do up your eyes. And, no, I am not going to wear false eyelashes. I save those for Halloween.) This morning another CT scan. Had to put down a couple glasses of that barium drink on Sunday night, Happy Easter, and another couple glasses Monday morning. Then over to the Medical Mall for my scan, which involves an iv and later in the day over to Zimmer for more blood work. Getting stuck with a needle twice in one day. Ain’t I a lucky lady. (It turned out it was 4 times in one day. My vein is scarring up and it’s getting to be quite a challenge to draw blood. We had to use the port today which wasn’t as bad as I was anticipating. When you get the right nurse, it’s a breeze. Well not quite a breeze.) This has been a tough day for me mentally. I’m tired, cold, my body hurts, and my nose is really runny. (it’s been running since November, but some days I can tolerate it more than others.) This is one of those days when you feel like your whole life revolves around the cancer. It sucks. I have more labs later in the week and my treatment on Thursday. I tried to negotiate the Thursday lab work. We’ll wait and see. Today is the first day of the new phase of the clinical trial. I will either be receiving Avastin or a placebo. Couldn’t negotiate the Thursday labs. Had those at 8:30am and I was in the chemo room all ready to go when my research RN came in to tell me “No go” on the treatment. Some of my blood work is still not at the levels necessary for the treatment. Well, rejected again. So much for last week’s transfusion. It’s tough being rejected because you get yourself mentally and emotionally prepared for the treatment and now I have to have a redo in a few days. I’m going to NY next week and was hoping to be through whatever side effects I may experience before I leave town. The treatment is rescheduled for next Tuesday, the infusion contraption is pulled from my port, and I am off to a late breakfast. My friend Jodi, from Asheville, was here for a brief visit on Sunday. She was driving back from Florida and took that awful trip from Lumberton to spend a couple of hours with me. She brought a new friend, Alicia, with her. She’s from Florida via Uruguay and Jodi convinced her she needed a break from her family, so she drove up with Jodi. Not only did Jodi make one of her gourmet vegetarian dinners for us, she brewed up a special herbal tonic, and made several day’s worth of juice. That woman has some fine energy and the connection among the three of us was incredible After dinner Jodi did a tuning fork vibration therapy session on me. (She did this when I was in the hospital after my surgery and it really opened up my system.) This type of therapy helps to bring balance, reduce stress and provide pain reduction. My apartment was a healing haven that evening. Just as quickly as she arrived she was gone again. My little nomadic friend. Namaste Jodi. Time for that first stand alone treatment. Will she be denied again? No, her blood came in just under the wire. My 30 minute treatment turned into several hours. Couldn’t seem to get the pharmacist in a groove with us so I waited quite a while. I’m fairly certain this was in my concoction during my chemo, so the side effects shouldn’t be too dramatic. I’m on an airplane in 48 hours so I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Made an appointment with a nutritionist in Syracuse, Susan Brown, Phd. I discovered Dr. Brown while doing research on the benefits of maintaining your body in an alkalized state. Her main thrust is osteoporosis research. (We started referring to our Mom as the incredible shrinking woman when she was in her 60‘s. She was 5‘9“ in her forties and close to 5‘1“ when she died this past year at 91, so yes, it’s in the genes.) A statistic that I also discovered that I found interesting is that the United States consumes more dairy products than any other country in the world and we also have the highest rates of osteoporosis. Obviously there is a piece or pieces missing from this puzzle. Anyway, seeing as my current ph is 5, I am borderline osteoporosis in my lower back and hips, and the chemo is whacking out my blood and minerals, I thought a consultation was in order. My weekend in the ‘Cuse was wonderful. So many caring people. People who care enough for my sister Amy (and her friend Diane) that they made this a very successful event. My college roommates, Annie, Marg and Peggy, were there and it was incredible to see them after so many years. We had such a good time reminiscing about events that happened over 30 years ago. Although, as expected, none of us remember the same things about the same event. Dave and JoBeth, who were my next door neighbors when Chris was just a toddler, came. (The kind of neighbors who would call at 2am on Christmas morning to see whether I needed any help putting together the tricycle that I had been struggling with for several hours. Tricycles are red so that the blood you shed putting one together isn’t quite as apparent.) And of course, Rox, Joyce and Gerry, my “posse” during our corporate years when we were single, partying, awakening women. None of these friends will ever know just how much they mean to me. A thought also occurred to me on my trip home: it was so nice to be able to see everyone together now rather than gathering after I’m gone. I just want to thank the City of Wilmington for the parade and fireworks display this past Saturday. I don’t have any idea how they found out it was my birthday, but they put on quite the celebration! Birthdays should be celebrated for at least a week or for however long you can milk it. This year’s birthday took on a whole new meaning for me so thanks to all my friends for helping me milk it! My friend Carol sent an email today about my article. She made a brief commentary about a letter that was sent to the Star News from a woman with breast cancer. Carol pointed out the differences in our emotional and mental approaches to this disease. I had not seen the letter, so I went online to find it. Whoa. Quite a response to my article. I don’t know when she was diagnosed, but I’m still flabbergasted by her tone. Ms. Ervin did not even come close to understanding what my article was all about. My article was not really about cancer, it was about practicing life. It was about getting your ego out of the way so you can get a clearer view of things. Once you have a clearer view of things you really appreciate the small stuff. I am so blessed to understand and practice present moment awareness. I am so blessed to realize that looking into the past or the future is a futile effort. I am so blessed that my relationships with virtually everyone I know have been altered in an incredible life affirming way. I am so blessed that I don’t have to be upbeat for my friends and family; they know when I’m not feeling so well but when I am I usually find celebration in all the small things we share. I am so blessed to be able to be pretty patient with all the changes this disease as brought to my life, especially since I have never been a patient woman. I am surrounded by so much love, and the blessing is that I know it. I don’t hang on any hopefulness about my recovery nor am I being optimistic. It’s very sad that at this point in her life she is dealing with anger, grief, and anxiety. Life is too short for all of that, even for a healthy person. We are all ‘terminal’ we just don’t know what day it will be. If we all really embraced that fact, we wouldn’t spend more than a fleeting moment on all those wasted emotions. I agree with Ms. Ervin that cancer is not ennobling, but the manner in which you handle suffering can ennoble you. Cancer is not peaceful; you experience peace in your life through awareness, gratitude, patience, and self compassion. Cancer does not give you special insight into the workings of the cosmos. You must seek to find those special insights. And when you make the effort you find them and they can provide you with incredible power. Cancer does compromise your dignity if you allow it to. But why allow it to? The cancer does not have that power on it’s own; your ego controls that. I just turned 54 and I am still healthier, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically, than most people I run into every day. The statistics and labels are only there for the benefit of the medical community. I am a number on the pharmaceutical company’s clinical trial, but I don’t subscribe to that. And all of my health care providers don’t subscribe to that. My acupuncturist, my chiropractor, my massage therapist, my nutritionist, and my yoga instructor are helping me keep my body strong, but more importantly, interacting with me on a spiritual level. I will not be labeled. Muscles all over my body are really sore right now, have been for a few days, maybe from the Avastin, maybe from the cancer, maybe the chemo is still lingering. My face is numb as are my feet. Until these last few months I’ve never been really sick or in chronic pain. But I am right now. But right now I am also sitting at my computer with a beautiful sunset outside my window. The cats are all taking their early evening naps so things are quiet and peaceful. I am enjoying a wonderful cup of real jasmine tea. I had a nice conversation with my son today; we laughed a lot. Friends have called. I did some work on a painting. Got some of my tomato plants into their pots. Went to Lowes for material for a project I’m working on . Bought the cutest pair of Birkenstock’s (needed them badly and yes, Birkenstocks can be cute). Received a letter from a good friend in NY. Visited the Hillary headquarters. (Not nearly as busy as Obama’s.) Had a great meditation session. Didn’t have to visit Zimmer. Read a little of each of the three books I’m working on. Spent time online planning a trip to Colorado for a retreat in August with perhaps a side trip to Montana to visit my friend Jane (and hit Yellowstone; I’ve never been there.) Worked on my website. I have a board meeting tomorrow and perhaps a few hours of paid work and who knows what else that day will bring. There are days when I am really sick or the cancer activity seems to be consuming my very precious time and quality of life seems like a distant memory never to be experienced again. But then there are those days when just every little thing is perfect, like today… “Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain.” Someone sent me this in an email. I think it pretty much sums things up!   Chapter 8 Posted June 21, 2008 Yes! My eyelashes and eyebrows are back. Growing quickly. My hair is also growing back, but I’m even more excited about my eyebrows. They’ve grown back so well that I have to start plucking them again. Shaping my eyebrows has never been a job I’ve been too thrilled about, but I’m terribly excited about having to do it now. It will be nice to not stand out quite so much, at least not as a cancer patient. I had a treatment this morning and the chemo room was packed. Lot’s of activity, conversation , and noise. A fanciful little “cocktail” party. Too much of an industry for my sensibilities. I feel so strongly that as good and caring as these professionals are, this is an industry that we should be attempting to eliminate. The pharmaceutical companies have taken over and are bilking billions of dollars out of us (and our insurance companies) for treatments that may not work. And now the “industry” is moving away from the notion that cancer can be cured, to the idea that we all may as well accept the fact that we will get cancer. But, lucky for us, the industry can keep us alive, and cancer will be treated as a chronic illness. I guess it’s easier to push a pill or hook us up to an iv every few weeks, rather than work on all the things in our society that are contributing to the increases in cancers. Too many corporations would be impacted (bottom lines) if we forced them to clean up our air, clean up our water, produced healthy, safe food, made certain everyone had access to affordable, preventative healthcare, including teeth. etc. etc. If you read the risk factors for various cancers as promoted by the American Cancer Society, you’ll find that some lull you into a false sense of security (me with ovarian cancer) or they are so broad that every one on the planet has at least one symptom. Here are the risk factors for ovarian cancer: Family history of ovarian cancer Previous cancers Never pregnant or infertile Use of fertility stimulating drugs That’s a negatory on all of those factors for me, yet here I am. I happened to pick up a little book on ovarian cancer sponsored by GlaxoSmithKline. These are the folks that bring you that little osteoporosis drug, Boniva, that has severe side effects that have just recently been revealed to the public. These types of drug, bisphosphonates, have been on the market for over 10 years. Can you say Vioxx? Can you say guinea pig?  <<Fosomax and Actonal are the same type of drug, have the same side effects and are probably prescribed more often that Boniva.>>  Now here are two new risk factors presented in this little book: Use of talc (BABY POWDER) in the genital area and, what a surprise, our high-fat Western diet!!! Did you know that talc is related to asbestos? I must have missed that in chemistry class. According to GlaxoSmithKline “The theory is that talc particles travel to the ovary through the cervix, line the uterus and fallopian tubes, and result in toxic effects on the ovary”. Interesting?? I have never heard or read this before, so I did a little research and found a website called Cancer Prevention Coalition. Here’s what they had to say about the talc theory: "Talc is closely related to the potent carcinogen asbestos. Talc particles have been shown to cause tumors in the ovaries and lungs of cancer victims. For the last 30 years, scientists have closely scrutinized talc particles and found dangerous similarities to asbestos. Responding to this evidence in 1973, the FDA drafted a resolution that would limit the amount of asbestos-like fibers in cosmetic grade talc. However, no ruling has ever been made and today, cosmetic grade talc remains non-regulated by the federal government. This inaction ignores a 1993 National Toxicology Program report which found that cosmetic grade talc, without any asbestos-like fibers, caused tumors in animal subjects.  Clearly with or without asbestos-like fibers, cosmetic grade talcum powder is a carcinogen." "Talc is toxic. Talc particles cause tumors in human ovaries and lungs. Numerous studies have shown a strong link between frequent use of talc in the female genital area and ovarian cancer. Talc particles are able to move through the reproductive system and become imbedded in the lining of the ovary. Researchers have found talc particles in ovarian tumors and have found that women with ovarian cancer have used talcum powder in their genital area more frequently than healthy women." Of course the American Cancer Society refutes the findings. They are secure with the fact that since 1973 the US government has required that all home-use talcum products be asbestos-free. These products include baby powders, body powders and facial powders. And who is ensuring us that this is actually being monitored? The same folks who are currently sitting on their asses rather than investigating the salmonella outbreak in our tomato supply. Although, come to find out, cosmetic grade talc is NOT monitored by the FDA. Which might explain the following: "The common household hazard posed by talc is inhalation of baby powder by infants. Since the early 1980s, records show that several thousand infants each year have died or become seriously ill following accidental inhalation of baby powder…Exposing children to this carcinogen is unnecessary and dangerous." (As an aside, I visited a great website www.cosmeticdatabase.com. It analyzes personal care products based on their ingredients and rates them on how dangerous or safe they are. Based on their analysis, one of the more potentially dangerous manufacturers is Johnson and Johnson, especially their baby products. Does that really come as a big surprise? ) Back to the pamphlet. This publication also points out something I was aware of, that ovarian cancer is more common in women from industrialized Western countries than in women in other parts of the world, such as India, where they honor the cow, rather than consume it. (Sorry, one more aside, another interesting bit of information is that we (USA) consume more dairy products than any other country in the world AND we also have the highest rates of osteoporosis. So where is that connection between dairy and strong bones? A little dairy industry propaganda perhaps? Or perhaps our guts are in such bad shape that we cannot absorb the bone strengthening minerals from our dairy. I’m not even gonna talk to you about sunscreen except to say do your bones and your general health a favor and go out in the sun without it for at least 30 minutes a day, especially my Northern friends. ) With all that being said, I guess what we should focus on is clean air, clean water, nutritional foods: hey, we could disband the FDA and the EPA (they aren’t doing us much good, although corporations thrive under their watchful eyes) and spend the money on educating the public about good nutrition and safe products and holding corporations accountable for their crimes against society. Which leads me back to Wilmington. The irony of our county commissioners approving a $4million corporate welfare opportunity for a foreign cement corporation to build a kiln facility here hasn’t escaped me. The fact that this type of facility will directly impact the lives of many individuals in our community, especially children and our older citizens, with its toxic pollution in exchange for a few jobs is unconscionable. If we don’t draw our line in the sand on a local level we will continue to have this type of dirty industry shoved down our throats. If we rely on federal or state agencies to protect us we are in for great disappointment and a further degrading of our general health and well being. I am working very hard at improving my diet and one element is eating organic, especially produce. Locally grown is the best because it is fresh. Unfortunately all of the few remaining local farms that we still have in this county and Brunswick county are downwind of that kiln. The commissioners based their decision on one twisted piece of logic: our air quality is still good enough that the state permits us to allow an industry of this type to come in here and degrade it. But money talks and the health of our citizens walk. I certainly hope that the board of directors of New Hanover Regional Medical Center officially get off that bandwagon. As members of the Committee of 100, they tacitly agreed with the decision. A public statement is in order. The doctors in this community also need to go public with their opinions on this plant. Enough politics. My health is pretty good right now. I still need 9 hours of sleep each night, but no naps have been necessary. They are still nice but, fortunately, not needed. I have a tough time carrying a 20 lb. bag of cat litter up my stairs. Before I became sick I was able to throw 50 lb. bags of feed on my shoulder all day long. I don’t like feeling so limited, but I’m happy that that’s the most challenging limitation I’m facing right now. I have side effects from the Avastin, but they pale in comparison to the chemo side effects. I have constant pain and stiffness in my neck. I wake every time I turn my head on my pillow, but I’m continuing to work with my acupuncturist in reducing the pain and keeping my neck flexible. I have also seen someone who does cranial-sacral work and that seems to provide the most lasting effect. The neck/muscle pain is not listed as an official side effect but the pain seems to be spreading into my head so I asked to have my CT scan expanded to include a look at my spine this Thursday. When you have cancer, it can spread, so I’ll be happy to rule that out as a reason for the pain. Yoga class has been great. For a bunch of women who have recently had their guts ripped out and gone through the rigors of chemo, we are a very energetic group! A great deal of positive and supportive energy pervades that room. Having an extremely caring instructor is absolutely necessary and we do! A woman from Indianapolis contacted me last winter after she had located my website. Jane was diagnosed with ovarian cancer two years ago and as a journalist, spent a great deal of time communicating with other ovarian cancer patients all over the world. She had been through a great deal over the last two years but was still incredibly supportive and fierce in her battle. I received an email from her husband last week that provided all of us with directions to the funeral home. It was a very sad and sobering message. But on a much brighter note, the circle of life continues. I am officially a grandmother. I must tell you, it’s much easier becoming a grandmother than a mother. No labor, no excess weight to shed, and it doesn’t impact your sleep at all. Scottland was born on May 17th and is a beautiful and easy going little girl. If I am capable enough, I will try to post a photo. Her parents are doing great and although they seem to be much more chilled about being parents than I was, my son has shared his thoughts about the awesome responsibility that is before them. All I can say is, “Payback is hell!” I have read some very good books over the last few weeks. Deepak Chopra’s new book, “The Third Jesus” was excellent. An Eastern look at Jesus. One that makes so much sense and one that would upset only a Fundamentalist. Eckhart Tolles’ book “A New Earth”, is also very good and not quite as dense as “The Power of Now” which I am re-reading. I revisited an older book that I never finished and really enjoyed it: “The Alphabet vs. The Goddess”. Politics, religion, history, misogyny, right up my alley. Fascinating theory about why the goddess dies in a culture (along with women’s rights and wellbeing) as soon as the written word is adopted. I also read a book entitled, “The Religious Right is Wrong”. I couldn’t help it. I’d rather be challenged by my reading, but I just had to have an easy read that echoed my thinking. It was written by a minister and he really nails it. Pretty much chastises any priest or minister who understands the damage the religious right is inflicting and doesn’t speak up about it. I think that any liberal thinker would get it and has probably stated these same thoughts from time to time especially over the last 7 years. But it would be a great read for a conservative who believes the religious right has attempted to hijack the government to the detriment of our country. Good talking points. My two favorite topics, religion and politics, also the two topics one is admonished not to discuss in polite society, are back at the top of my reading list again. I did read some fiction this winter when I was down on my back on the sofa, but it’s good to be reading stuff that challenges my mind and moves my heart and soul. I will leave you with a couple of thoughts: Real profit [in medicine] is made not by controlling chronic diseases...but by treating their many complications.” – The New York Times, 2006 “The system encourages people to get sick and then people get paid to treat them.” – Dr. Matthew Fink, Beth Israel Hospital, The New York Times, 2006   After the American Diabetes Association formed a three-year, multi-million dollar alliance with Cadbury Schweppes Americas Beverage, a major manufacturer of sugary sodas and candies, the ADA's chief scientific researcher claims that sugar has nothing to do with diabetes. The Corporate Crime Reporter interviewed Richard Kahn, the ADA's chief scientific and medical officer, during which Khan said, "No one has a clue" whether or not sugary soft drinks can lead to diabetes. Gary Ruskin, executive director of Commercial Alert, said, “Saying that sugar has nothing to do with diabetes like saying that tobacco has nothing to do with emphysema."