Cancerveraries

Curls, curls, curls!

One year later, I am healthy.  I am strong and fit, with a head full of hair that still definitely qualifies as curly and is long enough to have already warranted a haircut.   I don't have any more foreign objects in my veins, and I've been told that my big scar kind of makes it look like I have well-defined abs.  Last month I had my 3-month (that's right: it had been 3 months) oncology checkup.  Going to the familiar office was a little like a reunion, and my nurse Shirley took time to have the sort of visit that leaves me feeling full, encouraged, connected, and loved.  My AFP tumor marker was a perfect 3.8, and there are no other signs of return, AND I don't go back until October.

For the past month I've been playing the "One year ago today . . ." game.  Sometimes emotional, sometimes hilarious, sometimes mind-blowing.  This summer has been rather busy, so when yesterday I finally sat down to write this entry, I found a need to read the blog from start to finish.  It's quite a read, and yet there is so much that I didn't post: lots of pathetic/dramatic stories from before diagnosis about the experience of being profoundly sick, some hilarious stories that are inappropriate for the public forum, and there were so many other people who did so much and were never mentioned. 

Looking back, in the beginning I know I was so overwhelmed with gratitude, helpless gratitude, that I couldn't even write about all the people who were so kind and thoughtful and giving.  During those first few weeks, my parents and my sister and my roommate Jodi were right there all the time, and I was surrounded by love from near and far with visits and cards and emails and phone calls, which all brightened my spirits, even when I didn't return them. I wish I'd have written more about other people.

What am I doing to commemorate these cancerversaries?  Mostly, talking about it, turning over memories with my family and friends and re-reading emails and posts.  I have impressive plans for Nov. 4, one year since the last chemotherapy treatment [Hint: I'm not getting HANK (my oncologist/surgeon/encourager) tattooed on my bicep with a big heart].  That should also be my last post.

Thanks to all who noticed the 1 year mark and wrote or called or thought about me.   You were wonderful a year ago, and you are wonderful still.

The Green Party

The party was a great big, green hit! 

Along with the Great Green Vegetable Pasta came salads in all forms: Broccoli Salad, Greek Salad, Nuts 'n Greens Salad, several Spinach Salads, "Joan's Fantastic Green Spinach, Almond, and Strawberry Salad," "Kyle's Salad With The Rocking Dressing," and others.

We had ¡KALE PESTO!, Parmesan Kale, Kale/Chard Quiche, Kale Stirfry, Spicy Kale Chips, Brussels Sprouts, Spinach Deviled Eggs, Black Eyed Peas, Broccoli Soup, Spinach "Brownies," and Shifted Mint Brownies.  (Can you tell I made everyone write creative labels for their dishes?)

Everything was delicious, although I have to say that my favorite (=good+simple+healthy+novel) were the Spicy Kale Chips by Carol.  The recipe was about like this.  Unlike your typical "Covered Dish" event, there were almost no desserts, and I don't really think they were missed. 

Of course, better than the food were the people.  My duplex has never had so many people inside, and certainly not so many people dressed in Green!  Even without cancer, I am surrounded by people who care about me enough to indulge my green fantasies, and together celebrate our victory over that odious tumor-ovary Grazelda.

I wish that each of you readers could have been there, too, but I am grateful for your thoughts, virtual devotion, and even green recipe recommendations.  I am still averaging 2 bunches of cilantro a week, and I feel great: I run at about 110% on days that I get enough sleep, and I'm hitting the ground running in my summer class of chemistry.  And my hair?  Still very curly.  I still haven't shampooed it.  I still haven't cut it.  Yes, it's headed swiftly towards the 'Fro Stage.  


And here's my favorite Green Party Picture:

Bonus points for finding Bryce's spoon!

You're Invited to the Green Party

In honor of the demise of Grazelda the deviant ovary, to celebrate the close of chemotherapy, coumadin, and cancer, for the general merriment of all and enjoyment of foods rich in Vitamin K, if you're reading this blog post, 

YOU'RE INVITED 

to a potluck of foods that are green.

What: The Green Party
When: Friday, May 21.  6:00 pm.
Where: Margaret's House.  Tucson.  Email me for directions.
What to Bring: a dish to share that contains some substantial amount of Vitamin K (ingredient suggestions below)
What to Wear: Green, of course!
Why: "Because I'd rather eat spinach than chocolate.  Well, most of the time . . . " -mp

There are rumors of the Great Green Vegetable Pasta, maybe some All-Green Twister, and Jodi's in town!

RSVP if you get a chance to pennermk AT gmail DOT com 

***********

A Dozen Foods Containing Lots of Vitamin K:

Leafy Greens (except iceberg lettuce)

Brussels Sprouts

Broccoli

Green Onions

Asparagus

Cilantro

Cabbage/Sauerkraut

Okra

Black-eyed peas

Green Peas

Parsley

Endive

(because I had to do an image search to find out what an endive looks like)

An exhaustive list can be found here: http://www.nal.usda.gov/fnic/foodcomp/Data/SR20/nutrlist/sr20w430.pdf

Oh yeah, as far as I can tell, my physical health has never been better.  Yanking the port went well.   My scar is healing nicely, and I'm working on a necklace - if anyone has experience converting medical devices into jewelry, drop me a line. 

Farewell to Port

Here are the boring medical details, as promised:
I had my (bi-)monthly oncology check up last week and it went swimmingly.  My AFP was a 5, and I've apparently been on blood thinner long enough that we can trust my clots to be gone.  So I could go off my blood thinner and "dive head first into the salad bar," as Dr. Hallum put it, EXCEPT that I still have a foreign body lodged in my vein, in the form of a port-a-cath, the thing they put in my chest in September so they wouldn't have to start IVs all the time.  And I'm stuck on blood thinner till I have that taken out.  I hesitated for about .2 seconds before telling them to pull it.

The risk, of course, is that Grazelda might come back.  We're not yet at the big One Year UnCancerversary, when odds of recurrence plummet.  And it's a surgical procedure, they knock you out at least partways and cut you open, and you have to sleep all day, while your sister is totally wired and bouncing off the walls after getting the LARGE coffee at the hospital cafeteria.  (Well, that's what happened last time.)

Many people live happily with their ports in for many years.  Those people either don't have clotting problems or don't like spinach as much as I do.   So, I'm taking the risk, and this Friday (which is almost tomorrow) at 7:30 am Pacific Time at Northwest Hospital in Tucson, I'm getting my port out.  
I'll miss it, I think.  I play with it and tap on it and slide it around under my skin. I push on it occasionally and think, "Beam me up, Scotty!" On the other hand, it looks a little odd especially with my sleeveless summer attire, and it rubs a little when I have a backpack on.  And now that I'm not using it anymore, I'll gladly trade it in for copious quantities of basil and cilantro.

 picture by Kristi

Dinner

Still Life with Porter

Here's what I bought at the grocery store today:

(I don't get to eat them till Monday, but still . . . life is good.)  

And I'll save boring medical details for another post.  

It turns out . . .

. . . undeniably, 

genuinely,

when-it-gets-longer-it-might-be-able-to-go-boing-boing

curly. 

Yup - that's what my hair does if I get it wet and scrunch it a little bit and let it dry without putting a bike helmet or work bandanna on.  So I don't get to see it that way all that often, but I love it.  There's no way to tell if curly is from the chemo, the fact that this crop has never been cut, or my "no-poo" routine - I have started washing every few days with baking soda and a vinegar rinse on Saturday night.  It's also baby-soft, and I do obsess over touching it.

My life, like my hair, is settling into its new normal.  My left ovary has regained function and is picking up the slack that Grazelda left behind (unfortunately, having only one ovary does not mean you only get your period every other month).  I'm juggling work and rocking my classes and biking wherever I can and cooking good food and dreaming of broccoli.  I have very vivid dreams about broccoli.

There was a day a couple weeks ago that I felt bad at breakfast.  Lots of pressure in my lower abdomen depending on how I sat.  Nothing I did seemed to relieve it.  It wasn't horrible, but it was the kind of pain I had last July that was the very first sign of cancer.  So after a little hemming and hawing, I called in to my oncologist.  I felt better the next day, but went ahead and had the blood test to confirm it: With an AFP at 3.8, I still don't have cancer.  I guess normal people with this sensation would just think they had gas and blame it on the mac and cheese the night before, so maybe I do feel a little more fragile. 

On the other hand, my cousins Noah, Elissa, and Dustin came out at the end of February, and we backpacked down into the Grand Canyon and back out again in two days.  It was beautiful and challenging, a sort of victory lap for getting Grazelda gone. How awe-some to have such a powerful, strong body that can do amazing things!  And it doesn't even matter that when we stopped at Chipotle for supper on the way back, we were hobbling so badly we thought people might assume we were drunk and refuse us service. 

Spring break is over.  Curly hair is in.  And the Grand Canyon is really, really deep.

Peace and Health and Love,
margaret