Dancing Uphill

Throughout my trekking life, my modus operandi for the uphills has been to assess the elevation change, take a deep breath, smile, put on my headphones (for a little uphill motivation), and move forward, one step at a time.  Yep, music always has been a consistent secret sauce in my perseverance: I've danced up mountains in Africa, Bhutan and Europe.  I've jigged across paths in New Zealand and Scotland.  I've bounced up the inverted slope of the Rim-to-Rim of the Grand Canyon (along with my headphone-wearin' pal, Chip).  So is it any wonder that I danced for 35 minutes before heading into Week 1/Cycle 2 of my chemo treatment yesterday?  It was my powerful soundtrack for this leg of the Unexpected Journey (the first week of a treatment cycle feels a little uphill to me).

My dancing yesterday was joyous, invigorating, fun and empowering.  And I've no doubt that it motivated me across what turned out to be a rather long treatment day.  Cliff and I know from my  oncologist that we are trekking a difficult path, with no quick promise of success.  And we are experts in perseverance.  We can stay on this path (one step at a time) by marshaling our fitness, confidence, determination, teamwork and experience.  And we can always add a little secret (musical) sauce for good measure 🎶 . . .

So, it was with my partner, a smile, a song in my heart, shoulders back and head up that I walked back into the cancer center yesterday.  And I emerged (after 5.5 hours, including time for blood tests and doctor's appointment) with a smile, a song in my heart, shoulders back, head up -- and hungry!  Yay!  We stopped on our way home at an Indian take-out that we know has stomach soothing, cancer-fighting menu offerings. Delicious!

Progress Report:

This cycle (2) my doctor added a new targeted chemo-therapy treatment (Avastin) based on information gleaned from molecular analysis (of my blood and tumor tissue).  This targeted treatment, and the overall approach, is relatively new in treating cancer (lucky timing again, right?).  The analysis enables my oncologist to see cancer cell mutations, and to understand what that means in terms of identifying and on-boarding treatments that best can target those mutations.  In the not too distant past, treatment feedback was based on progress/success observed over a period of treatment -- potentially wasting valuable effective treatment time.   

Adding Avastin added 90 minutes to yesterday's treatment.  I still have the chemo suite pre-treatment platform (thirty minutes of anti-nausea IVs and steroids), then my two hours of oxaliplatin and leucovorin and of course Fluorouracil (my 48-hour take-home pump, which Cliff and I have nicknamed Super-Thor).  It's a bit daunting -- and having said that we'd walk through fire to kick this cancer, it's oh-so doable.

I expect I'll be (blog) quiet as we proceed through this week.  I'm taking forward all of my learning from Week 1/Cycle 1 and looking toward to an easier Week 1/Cycle2 (although Avastin is a bit of a wild card).  Already, I managed last night without any additional anti-nausea medication and walked 1/2 a mile post-treatment.  Definitely light and cold sensitivities are high this morning -- but nothing an extra layer and/or sunglasses can't address.  My goal continues to be to do what I can every day, and then do more the next day.  (Last cycle that meant I got in a four-mile walk and two, one-hour Peloton workouts toward the end of the two weeks.)

Quote of the day:

Life is not easy for any of us.  But what of that?  We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves.  We must believe that we are gifted for something, and that this thing must be attained.

                                                                                                     ~ Marie Curie 

And as with the dancing, so does the fresh flowers (act of appreciation) ritual continue.  

For the historical record: So far, my hair is Hangin' in There

VIA FRANCIGENA, 2020!