Any Given Wednesday III

The final installment of this three part series is the simplest. Every time I go to the hospital, before anything else can be done, they must send blood samples to the lab to make sure my levels of white, red, and purple blood cells, magnesium, potassium, myassium, protein, preteen, calcium, ABC, XYZ, CRS, etc are all either good or "expected under the circumstances". This photo flipbook show them accessing my portacath, taking blood and then administering the intravenous chemotherapy into the same port.


This is a Port-a-Cath or as we lovingly call it, a port. There is one just like it implanted in my chest as I type. It grosses me out still sometimes to think about its plastic invasiveness, but it's really quite a convenient little gadget. There are two pin-cushion pads where a special needle has lots of room for error. We all have our horror stories about difficulty finding veins in our arms and hands to access for blood collection/donation, right? Well, when my veins were just about to walk out of the factory in protest, the union renegotiated their contracts and got them vacation time. Technology was brought in via a surgical procedure last spring to implant this mechanism. The tube winds around my collar bone giving it special access to all that fresh blood pumping out of mi corazon- and front row seats to deliver all the poison throughout the body as well.


This is Kecia removing the bandage I had put on at home. When I remember, I put a topical anesthetic cream on the port one hour before show time. Everybody's different, but this seems to help me avoid a good deal of the pain.


I think I've blogged about nature's gift of outward perspective before, but it applies to my port as well as to my general looks over the past year and a half. It's really such a great feature of being human that we can't look at ourselves, save by aid of mirror. Therefore, my self-consciousness about being bald, enfeebled or even having strange lumpy protrusions in my chest has been limited. There are some fashions I will not sport (strapless tops shout: Stare at my weird pectoral tumor!) but mostly the summer found me donning tank-tops and bikinis just like everybody else. Few people mention the port and so I forget about it.


She's using alcohol to clean the site.


That's the fancy needle. Considering it's length, it's remarkable that the pain is insubstantial and the success rate of first-time access nearly 100%.


My nurse verifies a blood return, or, makes sure that the port is functioning well both in and out. She'll take several vials of blood, flush the tubes inward with saline and heparin (an anti-coagulant), and then pinch the tubes shut while we wait for my results from the lab. This waiting period is usually the bulk of the time I spend at the hospital each week- approximately two hours. During this time, I usually eat something from either the hospital cafeteria or the food court. I always plan to study or work, but rarely actually do. Hospital time gets sucked into the black hole of all wasted hours plotted with the best intentions.


I think there has only been one time when I was too sick to get my weekly chemo and it hasn't happened for a looooong time, thank goodness. So, next, the nurse will suit up in a thick protective gown and pull on special heavy-duty gloves. Can you imagine? The crap that they inject INTO MY HEART is so toxic and terrible that those who administer it must dress for a walk on the moon lest it splatter or drip a drop on their skin. I love that.


Another saline and heparin on the rocks, bartender.


The nifty needle has a spring-loaded release mechanism to immediately self-sheath the point upon removal.


By the way, these pictures were taken in July, so your eyes aren't playing tricks on you- my skin does look terrible. One of the things they are always telling me is that my skin on chemo is very sensitive to the sun, but I would scoff and insist that they didn't know MY skin. MY skin rarely burns and always tans. Well, score another one for the medical establishment. In Costa Rica, I got very burned and some of these pictures show the healing process. Still today, the remnants of the sunburn are faintly visible on my legs. Oops.


Et voila! All of that blood, water, and chemical exchange and all I get to show for it is an unnecessary band-aid. They should at least give out suckers. Or toothbrushes.

Signing off Sunday.
T minus 3 days until this is repeated.
And twenty-eight more times after that.

TV X'S 2

1. A feature on TV last nighton young adults with cancer, including following some around Dana Farber Cancer Institute, my home away from home.

2. A documentary on The Learning Channel. Said Carr, the creator, "People often ask me why I named the film Crazy Sexy Cancer. The answer is simple: to challenge the perceptions, to poke fun and bring humanity to a disease that is still so misperceived and feared. No matter what happened, I refused to be saddled with the isolating stigma associated with cancer. Just because it had changed my life forever, didn't mean that I had changed."
Word.

what a mess

quoted from a hand-painted sheet on the side of a rural Vermont farmhouse:

Nobody died, when Clinton lied.

the kingdumb

Dear Mr. Obama,

I just received your campaign's "Iraq" e-mail. As another person who opposed the war in 2003, I respect that you can boast the same. However, I wanted to let you know that I found the e-mail's simplification in saying "the people who attacked us on 9/11 were in Afghanistan, not Iraq" to blatantly neglect the paramountcy of Saudi Arabia's role. Going after the physical perpetrators of terror may be cathartic and important, but going after the money (whether that means through economic, political, or physical means) is the better way to be proactive about terrorism and not reactive. I do hope that future communications to your constituency will better reflect an acute awareness of this reality. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Erica Murray

***

Dear Erica,

I have spoken out against the war in Iraq since before it began.Today, I outlined a plan to turn the page in Iraq and end the war.Sign on to the plan today:my.barackobama.com/iraqplan

The saddest thing about the Bush administration's surge of public relations in favor of the war in Iraq this week is how predictable it has become for them to make their case for war around the anniversary of 9/11.

Five years ago today -- September 12, 2002 -- President Bush made his case for war at the United Nations.

He was wrong. The people who attacked us on 9/11 were in Afghanistan, not Iraq, and his case was built on exaggerated fears and empty evidence.

But conventional thinking in Washington lined up for war. Too many politicians feared looking weak and failed to ask hard questions. Too many took the President at his word instead of reading the intelligence for themselves. Congress gave the President the authority to go to war, and our only opportunity to stop the war was lost.

I made a different judgment. I opposed this war from the beginning. I opposed the war in 2002. I opposed it in 2003. I opposed it in 2004. I opposed it in 2005. I opposed it in 2006. And I introduced a plan this January to remove all of our combat brigades by March 2008.
The time to end this war is now.

My plan for turning the page in Iraq is clear:
remove our combat troops from Iraq's civil war by the end of 2008
take a new approach to press for reconciliation within Iraq
escalate our diplomacy with all of Iraq's neighbors and the United Nations
confront the human costs of this war directly with increased humanitarian aid

Sign on to support the plan now and join the voices calling for an end to this war:
http://my.barackobama.com/iraqplan

Our troops have performed brilliantly, but let me be clear: there is no military solution in Iraq, and there never was.

The best way to protect our security and to pressure Iraq's leaders to resolve their civil war is to begin to remove our combat troops immediately.
Not in six months or a year -- now.

We must get out strategically and carefully, but our drawdown should proceed at a steady pace of one or two brigades each month. If we start now, all of our combat brigades should be out of Iraq by the end of next year.

Show your support for the immediate drawdown of our combat forces:
http://my.barackobama.com/iraqplan

While we change the dynamic within Iraq, we must surge our diplomacy in the region.
We need to launch the most aggressive diplomatic effort in recent history to reach a new compact in the region. This compact must secure Iraq's borders, keep neighbors from meddling, isolate al Qaeda, and support Iraq's unity.

Conventional thinking in Washington says Presidents cannot lead this diplomacy. But I think the American people know better. Not talking doesn't make us look tough -- it makes us look arrogant. And it doesn't get results.

Strong Presidents tell their adversaries where they stand, and that's what I would do. Now is the time for tough and sustained diplomacy backed by real pressure. It's time to rally the region and the world to our side.
Support new diplomatic leadership and my plan to end the war:
http://my.barackobama.com/iraqplan

The final part of my plan is a major international initiative to address Iraq's humanitarian crisis.
There's no military solution that can reunite a family or resettle an orphaned child. It's time to form an international working group with the countries in the region, our European and Asian friends, and the United Nations.

We should increase our support for displaced Iraqis and expand access to social services for refugees in neighboring countries.

It's also time to go to our friends and allies -- and all the members of our original coalition in Iraq -- to find homes for the many Iraqis who are in desperate need of asylum.
As Americans, we must keep faith with Iraqis who kept faith with us and take responsibility for our own actions:
http://my.barackobama.com/iraqplan

I welcome all of the folks who have changed their position on the war over these last months and years. We need more of those votes to change if we're going to change the direction of this war. But if we've learned one thing from Iraq, it's that the judgment that matters most is the judgment that's made first.

I opposed this war from the beginning, and I want to bring this country together to end this war now. The American people have the right instincts on Iraq. It's time to heed their judgment.
We have the power to do this -- not as Republicans or Democrats, but as Americans. We don't have to wait until George Bush is gone from office -- we can begin to end this war today, right now.

It's time reclaim our foreign policy. It's time to reclaim our politics. It's time to lead this country -- and this world -- to a new dawn of peace and unity.
Thank you,
Barack Obama

Any Given Wednesday II: Bone Marrow Biopsy

The bone marrow biopsy is performed on me every 3-4 months. It is done to check to make sure there are not cancer cells in my bone marrow. And, just in case you're wondering, I remain in remission with a big fat ZERO leukemic cells. 18 months and not even a blip on the cancer radar screen.

Bone marrow is the spongy stuff found in the center of most of our bigger bones. For these biopsies, they usually take from the hip. They alternate between my left and right hip each time. For this procedure, I lie flat on my stomach.

Ready? Me neither.

Injecting the lidocaine actually creates a pocket of liquid under the skin (seen here). It burns a lot but obviously I can't imagine this procedure without it. They usually use a few syringes of it.

They insert anesthetic as deeply as possible. I can usually only feel the needle tap-tap-tapping on my pelvic bone as they numb the area.

Here, Adriana (my wonderful 7-months-preggers physician's assistant) is cutting a small slit into my skin. Apparently, this is her special trick to allow easier entry of the big needles. It also seems to allow the area to heal faster.

She leans her weight on this, twisting back and forth, and just bores down into the bone. This part hurts a bit; there is intense pressure.

Next is the worst part- they insert a needle within the "drill" and suck up an aspirate sample. There is this horrific jolt of sensation down my leg when this is done. Honestly, pain is so much easier to take than deep strange nerve reactions.

The marrow of me.

The drill just chillin' in me. I guess they all went for a coffee break or something.

Then, they do the actual biopsy, which is basically sucking up more marrow and bone, but it's done with a different needle. Where her thumb is pressing is the new needle going into the core.

This is the bits of marrow and bone from the 2nd needle.

Andres used to sing that Diana Ross song- "I'm coming out! I want the world to know, Got to let it show..." when he was done with a spinal tap or a bone marrow biopsy. The relief that the needle was coming out and it was over combined with his singing The Supremes in an Argentine accent usually had me laughing by the finish.

All done.

By the way, I've noticed bone marrow biopsies on House, Grey's Anatomy, and Scrubs and would like to dispel a little of the fear of pain they seem to exaggerate. This is not something I'd choose to do in my spare time or for kicks, but when this procedure could save the life of a bone marrow match, there's no question that it would be worth it. And you'd only have to get this done AFTER you'd already tested as a match for someone-- testing is a pain-free mouth swab. Have you been tested yet?

Any Given Wednesday

Since the day when I find myself most prostrate before god, the day I contemplate my mortality and pray most fervently is a different day than most Americans, I thought I'd invite you my sabbath. The reasons why Wednesdays find me feeling most small in the scheme of the cosmos and the fates is that I spend three to six hours every Hump Day in the cancer ward getting various treatments, usually simply liquid chemotherapy injected into my chest portal.

What kind of visuals does that meager description conjure for you? If I didn't know what it looked and felt like, I think I'd find it rather hard to imagine. So, for both your entertainment and education, I have, with the help of a few friends, photographed three of the procedures I may experience on any given Wednesday. Some people find me very strange and not a little morbid to be intrigued by needles entering my own body, but, personally, it makes me feel a little more in control. Also, if I leave it to my imagination, I've found that my idea of what must be causing that crazy pain is often scarier than the truth. The 3 photo "flip books" will be of 1) a lumbar puncture or spinal tap, 2) a bone marrow biopsy, and 3) a run-of-the-mill CBC and chemo injection. Here's numero uno:

Lumbar Puncture or Spinal Tap
August 22, 2007

These are the vials into which my cerebral spinal fluid will be collected. CSF is a clear fluid that circulates in the space surrounding the spinal cord and brain. It protects the brain and spinal cord from injury by acting like a liquid cushion.
I get spinal taps in order to both test my CSF and to put chemo medicine into my CSF. I used to get them very frequently, but my schedule for LPs now are every four months. These days, I rarely see results from my various tests and procedures to tell you the truth. Instead of celebrating every cancer-free test result, we just consider no news to be good news.

I sit on the side of a patient bed with my legs dangling and drape my body over a small adjustable table. I suppose the rounding of my lumbar region makes the vertebrae easier to delineate. After thoroughly cleaning the area, the doctor or physician's assistant will use their hands to feel deeply between my vertebrae, aligning with my waist, etc. A special plastic sheet is stuck to my back, I believe to prevent the various fluids involved from getting on my clothes. After a site is selected, they inject lots of lidocaine, the "pinch and burn" of which is really quite excruciating.

Needle is inserted into spinal column. This part can take several tries as they search for a good extraction place. When these occurred every few days or so during the initial induction phase in the hospital, I would have to get this done under fluoroscopy, to obtain real-time images of the internal structures.
This "hunt and stab" routine is my LEAST favorite part of all my treatments because sometimes the needle hits weird nerves or other places which cause jolts down my legs or shocks up my back. Everything in my body tells me that I should NOT be playing around with this vulnerable space, but what can I do?

After a juicy spot is found, the "plug" needle within the needle is removed to allow fluid to flow outward.

Collecting the precious nectar. Drip, drip, drip.

While they're there, chemotherapy is injected. You know, two birds with one stone.

Finished!

O Canada!

For those of you who have been following Jim and Jesse's incredible journey hiking from Mexico to Canada this summer, they have finally arrived! Here is their final update, including the total money raised for the Dana Farber Cancer Institute and the Cammy Lee Leukemia Foundation.

***

Our final post! (To see pictures associated with this post, please visit our blog: http://www.marrowtrek.org/blog.php.)

Hike Vitals
Miles hiked to date: 3000
Miles to go: 0
Days since hike started: 116
Location: Waterton Lakes, Alberta, Canada
Showers: 14

Fundraising Update
We raised nearly $35,000 from more than 200 people -- it was a moving display of support from our family, friends, and some whom we have never met. Thank you to all for the donations, care packages, and letters of suport we have received during our trek. We are very honored.

NOTE: For those that are supporting our charities through a per-mile pledge, we will be emailing you in the next few days with instructions on how to complete your donation.

Trek Update
We reached the 49th parallel marking the Canadian border on August 13th, 116 days and 3000 miles after leaving Mexico. We couldn't have scripted a better ending to our trip. Our week-long victory lap through Glacier National Park was some of the most majestic scenery either one of us had ever seen.

Our trek through Montana (and Idaho) did not begin with such promise. The first 500 miles of trail strictly (and often ridiculously) adhered to the divide, following jeep roads and ATV tracks as they meandered up and down (and up and down and up and down) the dry, rolling hills (labeled by another hiker as "PUDs", for "pointless ups and downs"). Thick haze from the summer's many fires often obscured views, and the lack of diversion and dimension caused the days to pass slowly.

Then we reached the Anaconda-Pintler wilderness, and we left behind the staid hills for more rugged terrain, rivers and lakes of alpine country. We continued to move quickly, weary of the rapidly growing fires in the north. Our fears proved well founded: By the time we reached our second to last resupply in Lincoln, fires had closed more than 100 miles of the remaining trail.

We settled on a route that preserved our long sought wilderness experience by tiptoeing around more minor fires on the western edges of the Bob Marshall Wildernes. During lunch one day, we sat on a high ridge and watched the dark, billowing smoke of trees bursting into flames a mile away.

Our detour extended into the southwestern corner of Glacier National Park where we left the fires behind (though not the smoke) and entered a glacially carved landscape of dramatic peaks, deep lakes, and beautiful tree-line passes. It was the type of scenery we had dreamed of on the CDT, but which had proven somewhat elusive. We swam in deep pools beneath towering waterfalls, ate trailside thimble berries, and took long lunchtime siestas. Mike Payne, our good friend from San Francisco, joined us for the last 50 miles, providing new perspectives and fodder for our daily trail banter. Jim's mom and her husband met us at trails end with food, comfortable beds and a welcomed ride home.

We are now spending our days working off our hard-won fitness as quickly as we can with a regimented diet of milkshakes, steaks, soft beds, and golf. Jesse will soon wake up to the imminent responsibilities of his September wedding, and Jim will face the challenges of finding a job and a place to live. But right now, it is time for another nap.

recalibrated, illustrated

Artineh's Bachelorette Party at Malibu Wines

I'm on a self-imposed mildly-unsuccessful non-drinking phase.

What a hard worker! (Jamie on her work cell while in Catalina.)

Newlyweds: Anai y Roberto

Anai, Uma, me, Marie, Erik (newly and happily divorced: uma y erik)

The Empire State Building.

Mom, Jaci, Andres y me at Katie's company (Rosenblum's) event.

Uncle Jimmy y me with Palace of Fine Arts & the bay behind.
(This is the actual view from their balcony!)

reCALIbrated

Almost two weeks in California are to blame primarily for this blag. That, plus I fear the clearer my mind becomes- as the fog of chemo continues to clear as I wean myself off various pills and peripheral medical agents- the less confidence I have that anyone reads this thing. During my trip, however, so many people cooed in ear that they do read my blog frequently that I am recommitted. Also, I think I need to stop this new budding concern about who's reading this- who cares! I'm going to use that old public speaking tool and imagine ya'll NAKED reading this. Ha ha, look! there's my professor letting it all hang out! and whoa- there's matt in his skivvies! and- oh snap, dude, uncle willy, please put something on!
My Mama has been printing out these elegantly-bound books of all these ramblings and comments, so I'll consider this my own private journal of "Two Years in (Ti)bed(t)" (sigh. without Brad Pitt) filled with lame jokes such as that, the likes of which make my sister wonder aloud how on earth we are even related...

what a preamble. jeez.

so, cali.
a luscious time was had. there need not be a reason to visit friends and family, but I planned this trip to attend a friend's bachelorette party. given that my sweet, just finished her PhD, about to marry her high school sweetheart, friend, Artineh, doesn't drink alcohol nor does she find the idea of strippers in the least bit tempting (who does?), we threw her a circus. a party with lots of junk food, games, and friends. then, we went for a picnic at this gorgeous winery in malibu under clear blue skies and giant oak trees. because i cannot miss certain treatments, I am unable to attend her actual wedding (which I'm pretty sure would have been more like an anthropological adventure to participate in a 400-person traditional Armenian wedding!) but want to wish her and Sev all the camaraderie, affection, and adventure their lives can handle. congratulations, Art!

one of the other special treats was going to Catalina Island with Jamie and Uma. It was Uma's "first slumber party", her first night spent away from John and home since the aneurysm. Catalina is a great place for an ice-cream cone and, if you're lucky (as I was in 1997), a swim with dolphins. So other than dumb-luck and mint-chip, why waste your time when you can go to Cinque Terre? or Baja even? Wonderful to spend time with Jamie and Uma, but I'll leave Catalina to those who like two-foot wide fake beaches and overpriced hotels...

takers? anyone?

another special occurrence this trip was getting to meet ROBERT, anna's elopemate. he's a sweetheart who seems to love my girl Anna with all his kungfu might- plus, he makes an awesome breakfast skillet (topping last night's bbq with over-easy huevos... mmmm). i can see why she always calls him her little panda bear.

as for other tall women with their little loves, Andres got to meet the Kwoks this weekend in San Francisco. For those of you who don't know yet, (have you been living under a rock?) Jaci is and has been for quite some time now, dating dr. andres sirulnik. if you've been paying attention, the name will be familiar because he is and has been for quite some time now, my oncologist. He was there that first night in the ER as every hemo-doc was paged in for what they feared was going to be a very bad and sad night for some girl with a off-the-charts white-blood-cell count. He was there (as they jammed a needle in my groin to begin immediate blood cycling to get those bastards out) at the head of my cot instructing me to look at him (not down at my thank-god-i-shaved lower half) and making me laugh despite the palpable fear and confusion all around. These days, he makes me laugh at the dinner table several nights a week when I visit him and Jaci in their cute apartment near Fenway. And now, he's even met my extended eccentric most-excellent family in San Fran. Naturally, his convivial personality and do-anything-to-make-Jaci-smile MO led to a wonderful weekend. He's been like family to me since I moved to Boston and it's nice to envelop him into ours on the w(b)est coast too.

and then there's the fact that if he wasn't the sparkle in my sister's eye, i'd probably have killed him by now for all the frickin misery his damn chemotherapy causes me. in L.A., I had severe back pain from "coming off the steroids"--which makes me sound like a Bondsian addict experiencing withdrawal symptoms-- that left me prostrate on jamie's bed while she converted from clark kent into super nurse. here's how it goes (or: All You Need To Know About Cancer Treatment):

benzene exposure
traumatic catalyst
leukemia
chemo
back pain
oxycodone (painkiller)
nausea (particularly jolly on a ferry boat)
constipation
constipation meds
you know what comes next
etc etc etc

anyway, now i'm back in boston enjoying a second-hand cigarette wafting up to my window from my neighbor. ha ha ha! i laugh in the face of nicotine and tar! i'm way ahead of you wusses!

boston has the funny quality of being very comfortable while you're here, but possessing few to no reasons to miss it when you're gone.

even so, it's good to be HOME.

B to the A to the R A C K

we all need a theme song.

if health care reform makes YOU warm, check this out.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKsoXHYICqU

New Wednesday Afternoon Hot Spot!

Hey there, everybody! This is Erin Moneymaker, and I am pleased and honored to be the guest speaker for Erica's blog this week. Bear with me as this is my first blog attempt, and I am rather uncertain as to the protocol and etiquette of the cyber world.
I arrived in Boston on Monday, and was greeted by a rather chipper Erica who picked me up from the airport. She looks amazing, and it is so so good to see the sparkle in her eyes alive and well. Since then, we've filled our days with shopping, reading, napping and hammocking. Let me tell you from first hand experience that there is no better way to spend a summer afternoon in Boston than curled up on a large hammock with a good book, a great friend and a pitcherful of virgin peach sangria! Our spirits restored, we then headed off for to tour Harvard Square before we being "Potterized" by Jaci. (def: dragged to see the Order of the Phoenix, though I've never read any of the books or seen any of the movies and have no interest in wizardry whatsoever :). We've also spent two lovely evenings out with Jaci and Dr. Sirulnik, eating and drinking and enjoying time with a healthier Erica. Though I know her journey is far from over, it is so encouraging to see her light up a room again.
Quick update for those who I haven't met: I've known Erica since we were underclassmen at St. Joseph High School: since the day a popular sophomore took a chance on a brace-faced freshman from her JV volleyball team. The friendship was quickly cemented through bonding afternoons at Olive Garden (breadsticks and dipping sauce for the teenagers on a budget), double dating, movie marathons (Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion, anyone?), spirited debates conducted over bowls of Java Chip ice cream, and mutual support through the various trials and tribulations that high school presented. Against the odds, we kept in touch throughout college- meeting in Pasadena for shopping and beach time, or convening up north for Giants games and BART adventures (seriously, who designed that system!). We rang in the new millenium together in Mexico, ("please make that little man with the whistle and tequila go away!") Through travels, breakups, job hunts, deaths in the family, relocations and countless personal hardships, she was always there for me. I figured that would be as tough as things got. Then came the real world, and the really hard stuff. Like what she's going through now. I will never be able to wrap my head around how and why this happened to her. If there was ever a girl who lived life, it was this one, and so this seems to me to be the cruelest act possible. I could probably try to put a silver lining on this cloud, talk about how Erica will come out of this experience stronger and with a new zest for life, and I'm sure there is truth to that but the greater truth is that she didn't need leukemia to give her strength or perspective. Since the day I met her, she has had both in spades. I guess the bottom line is, though I have no idea why cancer chose Erica, I know that I have never been prouder to call her my friend than I am today. Watching her struggle with and overcome this disease on a daily basis with a bravery and grace I cannot imagine possessing makes my heart physically hurt with love and pride.
Today is Wednesday (hospital day), and as I write this, Erica is sleeping, awaiting her next chemo treatment. I feel lucky to be able to be here for this but it's hard to imagine she does this (usually) alone every single wednesday. It's comforting to demystify what is happening to her and it's impossible to watch her and Kecia (her awesome nurse-- pictured here) cut up without joining in. Anyone reading this who happens to find themselves with a free Wed. afternoon should definitely consider catching their show! And I'm sure Erica would really welcome the company!

speed limits

i love:

-frequent flier points

-my friend, Gioia

-week threes of chemo treatment

-learning languages

-countries where fruit is sold on every corner

-weddings

-driving a stick shift

-poolside reading

i don't love:

-multiple connections & flight delays that lead to nights spent in memphis

-bribing central american police officers

-sunburns

-having to curtail activities due to being neutropenic (lowered immune system)

and last week, all of those things were in my clutches as i decided to go on a last-minute trip to costa rica and meet up with a dozen of my friends from fletcher. diana stockwell (from costa rica) got married in san jose on 07/07/07 and we were all in attendance. i was originally planning to go, but then was dissuaded by concerned doctors and family that the jungles and mountains there are just too rich in potentially funky molds, germs, fungi; that TB exists in the villages, not to mention malaria and other stuff that would knock my heretofore excellent cancer recovery off its ass. So, I backed out.

but then, i woke up and realized that life can be lived within speed limits. i can be careful and smart about what i do and still be myself- aka- a spontaneous adventurous travelover. it's just not in my nature to wait until tomorrow to experience what you can today. some call that impatience and impetuousness, i opt for carpe diem. i joked with my mom that it was the hundredth time she'd tried to talk me out of it with the usual "Costa Rica will be there tomorrow" that finally made me snap. so with a few clicks and a few points from my credit card (capital one is truly no hassles!), i was on a southbound flight the next day.

it's so hard for me to be as careful as i should be. i sometimes feel like a rebellious teenager, feeling constrained and bitter about restrictions placed upon me, even when those limitations are set with only my best interests at heart. i think this difficulty is seeded in a blessing, however. because i am one of the very few participants in my particular ALL study who have not had to be re-hospitalized ever, i have really not experienced the dangerous ramifications of my noncompliance. from taking my pills to taking it easy, from avoiding gardening to sick people to crowds to the sun to raw foods, i have a hard time being a good girl. therefore, i am truly appreciative to my friends and fam who keep me in check and apologize that you have to. (blush)

on other fun news-- visitors!

leslie and crew have been visiting boston since thursday. here's us at the red sox game last night. yes, yes, i know- crowds. but who can deny the communal effervescence of fenway??