Beating Breast Cancer: One Chuckle at a Time

Robert Schumann and Hope…

culturalcocktailhour — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 00:04:25 +0000

“.. Like the buds before the wings of color

are exploded into open splendor,

Captivating and significant to view,

like all things that contain a future

within themselves...”

- Schumann’s review of Clara’s Soirees Musicales, Op. 6

Photograph taken during my birthday this year, in the midst of my various treatments.

The last element left in Pandora’s Box was HOPE.

Graduation

culturalcocktailhour — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 23:47:00 +0000

After 2 months of driving to UCLA every day for Radiation Treatment, the Radiation Department presented me with this Diploma.

Although I have “graduated,” I still have to do Summer School, which is Herceptin (no side effects) into my Port-a-Cath once every three weeks till October.

But the bulk of my treatment is over!

Update: Thank you for checking in!

culturalcocktailhour — Fri, 23 Apr 2010 03:54:45 +0000

Dear Readers,

Thank you for the wonderful cards, messages, and letters! Right now, and for the next 2 months, I will be driving myself through the serpentine quagmire known as LA Traffic .

Radiation is 5 days a week at a location far from my home, so it adds up to a surfeit of hours in the car.

But I have appreciated your supportive messages so much and wanted to say Thank You so much!

From Chemo to the Red Carpet! (in 3 Weeks)

culturalcocktailhour — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 17:56:22 +0000

After

3 Surgeries

3 Blood Transfusions

Neutropenia

Only 3 weeks after my 6th Cycle of Chemotherapy

I’m back!

And walking the Red Carpet.

“MAN NEVER MADE ANY MATERIAL AS RESILIENT AS THE HUMAN SPIRIT.”- Bern Williams

p.s. Thank you to the brilliant minds of Dr. Glaspy, Dr. Chang, and Dr. Lipa

LA FASHION WEEK, March 19, 2010

Through a Glass Darkly- 6th chemo

culturalcocktailhour — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 23:24:55 +0000

After my 6^th chemotherapy cycle I walk into the bathroom. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I jump. Who is that? The specter haunts me. I stare at a stranger. A hunched over Quasimodo. Red, glassy eyes. Ashen lips. The stranger’s eerie countenance dizzies me. An out of body experience. That is not me. That is not the girl dancing up a storm a short while before chemo. Shoulders slumped, pain seeping through a gray visage.

But then I remember.

Just as I danced a few weeks before, I will dance once again.

That is the miracle of life…

Every Cloud has a Silver Lining…

culturalcocktailhour — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 22:10:41 +0000

The silver lining appears on the horizon.

I took this photograph in Downtown LA, next to Walt Disney Concert Hall, a few weeks after I found out that I had Cancer.

My sixth and final chemotherapy cycle is upon me next week.

After that I have a short break and then two months of radiation, which I have been told is a picnic in the park compared to the ravages of chemo.

Feeling like a piece of overcooked linguini, I was unable to respond to your cheerful messages nor post anything new. Never having ingested any toxins, alcohol, nor even a cup of coffee, my body reacts sensitively to the poisons running through my veins. On the flip side, because I lived a healthy life before, I am able to bounce back about 10 days after the chemotherapy treatment.

If I close my eyes, I can see the silver lining…

5th Round Chemo: Poison

culturalcocktailhour — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 21:03:57 +0000

5th round chemo- Poison coursing through my veins– leave soon- POISON!

Little Miss Muffet

culturalcocktailhour — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 00:26:34 +0000

Little Miss Muffet sat on a Tuffet eating her Curds and Whey. When you have Cancer, you become a regular Miss Muffet, imbibing oodles of Whey. It makes for a delicious sugar-free protein shake, vanilla or chocolate. Throw some frozen blueberries in, and you can pretend you’re eating an ice cream shake. It’s helpful if you are vegetarian and you need more protein. My nutritionist told me that while I undergo Chemotherapy I need 100 grams-egads- of protein per day, to boost new cell production.

So I’m having two whey shakes per day before my round of chemo next week.

What’s a Tuffet you ask? Why, a low footstool.

(I may just have to get one so that I may sip my whey delicately, pinkie finger- out, just like Miss Muffet)

Typing with One Hand..

culturalcocktailhour — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 03:01:54 +0000

Having had lymph nodes removed from Levels 1 and 2, I am placed in a “high risk” category for developing Lymphedema later in life. I will commence physical therapy next month to prevent it. My surgeon has given me several tips to avoid this condition; her staff is confident that I will never develop it.

Besides that issue, my left arm feels temporarily frozen from the surgery. I am typing with one hand.

Will I be able to play the piano with both hands again?

I am not precluded, however, from listening to Verdi’s “Caro Nome,” laughing with friends, reading Rainer Maria Rilke’s “Letters to a Young Poet,” running with both my legs, learning, growing, discovering life’s mysteries, talking to my 96-year old grandmother, eating fresh blueberries, admiring a beautiful sunset, getting on my hands and knees and thanking God for being here, alive, on this Earth that continues spinning on its axis as people live and die.

It is only when you are faced with what you cannot do,

that you fully realize everything that you can do.

Painting: Creation of Adam. Michelangelo. Sistine Chapel.

Drain Drain Go Away…

culturalcocktailhour — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 01:52:03 +0000

Drain Drain Go Away

After my second surgery, I am sent home with blood drains, which make it awkward to step outside. I feel like a vampire auditioning for a role in Twilight. With the drains on, I walk like Quasimodo. I ask my surgeon to remove the drains on Tuesday, but she wisely insists on keeping them for two more days to avoid complications. I fasten the drains to my clothes with a sharp safety pin, wary of being pricked. When I go to bed, I can neither lie on my left nor right side, or I risk smashing the drains. Instead, I rest on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Drain Drain Go Away. When I finally get the drains removed, I am free as a bird. One who cannot raise her left wing yet.