Clean Socks and I'm Trekking Again!

Headed for Treatment #10

Rejoining a trek after a break -- even a short break -- is an incredible boost to the body and soul.  This chemo and surgery break has delivered renewed energy, along with clean and un-rumpled socks to hug my feet as I slide back into my boots.  And I'm walking . . .

Back on the Unexpected Journey trail, I consider some of our most satisfying trekking sock-wash breaks.  These are the breaks -- so lovely and soul-filling -- which caused me to look wistfully over my shoulder as we rejoined the trail recalling the goodness and value of the pause.  Normally a "meditation-in-motion chick," the best breaks still my body in a pleasant synchronization with a present and quiet mind.  They also bring forth the fresh memories of the trek so far -  the views, the challenges, the celebratory ascents, the closely watched, sketchy descents; and perhaps most especially, the people (oh the amazing people) we have met along the way whether sharing the trail for a passing moment or for days along the way.  These are the blessings of the trek.

I recall a break on Wainwright's Coast-to-Coast Walk, where we took our sole socks' washing break in Richmond, North Yorkshire (at roughly the halfway point).  In this quiet, sleepy little village, which can be wholly explored in half-a-day (and that's with a real rigor toward exploration), we lounged over mid-afternoon tea and slightly decadent scones in a sun-basked corner of a tiny cafe. It was so simple and yet poignant -- how the juxtaposition of the press and the pause heightened our appreciation of the smallest things when we got still and listened to all that beckoned to calm, soothe and replenish. 

It is good for the body and the mind to break routine (no matter how attached we may be to it) every now and then.  Like opening a window to welcome all that is new and possible, we become reacquainted with that which has become, well routine, with fresh eyes.  The gratitude floods in with the new (and renewed) sights, sounds, smells and tastes finding an enlivened presence in the rested vessel.

And my experience of the last three weeks was of the break -- respectful of the Unexpected Journey so far traveled, grateful, open, aware and ready for new challenges.  Not comfortable, but comforting in outlook.  Not easy, but easily managed given the news: Two weeks post-surgery and five weeks since my last chemo cycle, my cancer is in remission.  Now, it is as Dr. Nir wrote in his pre-surgery notes, "time will tell" of the curative success of the procedure.  And I am hearing the trail calling.  It is time for me to get back in my trekking groove: Socks clean and dry, mind clear, filled with gratitude, optimism and curiosity; held by an amazing community of support -- heading for Canterbury, en route to Rome!

Quote of the Day:

Have what Jim Henson liked to call “ridiculous optimism.”  Without it, we wouldn’t have this amazing world we live in.

                                                                                             ~Kermit the Frog (2014, Ted Talk)
Progress:

The Garrett Girls (sis and me)

• Surgery went off on schedule, 0730 hrs, 3 February (six months from the 3 August symptoms and hospitalization that resulted in my stage 4 colon cancer diagnosis).
• My procedure included resection of roughly 25% of my liver (area that included the large hepatic tumor), removal of my gall bladder and two extra-hepatic cancerous areas (one lymph node and one lesion in my peritoneum). 
• I was released from the hospital on my third post-surgery day.
• Upon release: I was blessed with a peaceful healing retreat week in the care of my loving sister and amazing spouse.

• At the start of treatment cycle 10 (Monday, 24 Feb), Dr. Rixe gave us the news that my cancer markers are in the low-normal range (that is, of an individual without cancer).  The marker results, along with the pre-surgery imaging and surgery combine for current assessment of cancer in REMISSION.
• Per protocol, I am right back into chemo treatment for clean-up.  I don't know yet how many treatments cycles are ahead.
• There will be many tests and labs in the future to track and confirm the success of my treatment.
• I'll also restart my targeted therapy (Avastin) on 23 March.
• Dr. Rixe concurred with my suggestion to begin Fenbendazole (thank you, Chip and Malissa for encouraging me to investigate this alternative supplement to my treatment).
• I feel like I've won the lottery.  

 

Via Francigena, 2020!

Washing Socks

One important thing to master for long treks is packing only the essentials.  These days, we mostly carry just day packs while our greater gear load is transported to and from each overnight stay by a support company.  And even in those greater gear bags, we try to minimize weight and organize packing.  For the most part, we wash tech gear in sinks each night -- but wool socks and liners are not so easily managed.  You see, wool socks hardly dry overnight (whether in a tent or a B&B).  And even if they did, they never regain the desired foot shape -- instead presenting new (blister enhancing) rolls and bumps.

For this reason, it has become our long-distance trek practice to take a break day (based wholly on the sock supply) to wash socks.  This day also gives us a well-deserved trail break to explore the immediate surrounds, maybe sleep-in a tad, or enjoy a mid-afternoon nap or coffee.  The days end up being refreshing and reinvigorating.  We need them for much more than sock washing, you see.

And on Monday (just two days away) we'll take a mid-trek break (my liver resection surgery) to clean, recharge and reset on our Unexpected Journey.  I am carrying only the essential equipment, do not plan to put on the same dirty socks when we resume the journey (leaving that tumor behind!) and plan to sleep quite a bit that day 😉 (and maybe even during a few post-surgery days).

The procedure will begin at 7:30 Monday morning.  We'll head down to Albuquerque ridiculously early to be at the UNM Hospital for our 5:30 a.m. check in.  And I couldn't be happier!  We got the coveted first surgical slot of the day (more good luck and blessings as we continue our trek).

This is my last pre-surgery blog.  Beginning Monday, Cliff will send out update texts and carry the communication for a couple of weeks.  I should be home by Friday or Saturday.  This is a non-narcotic surgery (my surgeon prefers the ERAS nerve-blocker protocol and "no-drug me" is thrilled!).  And no, for the curious, this does not mean I'll be awake during the operation.

My darling sister is headed back across country (third time in six-months -- what a blessing) to stay with me during my first week of convalescence.  It's a great relief and comfort for me to know she is in-bound!

I'm not going to try to describe the way ahead.  We really don't know that today.  The picture will become more clear in the following days and weeks.  I will say that my surgeon wrote in my pre-surgery notes that "removing the tumor ideally and theoretically will be a cure for this patient" (me!).  He also, conservatively added, "Time will tell."

What I do know right here, today, is that I am going into this with all the goodwill and best energy generated on the path so far.

Knowing that, I am letting go and following my faith in every aspect of the beauty of this journey because:

Because TeamBoltz takes Two

• I have the world's most devoted caregiver (thank you, CB).

• I continue to be blessed with incredible support from every angle.  I returned to my amazing clinical hypnotherapist for a pre-surgery session -- and she even did a tape for me to listen to DURING surgery.  That tape is ready to go with her golden voice and MUSIC. 

• I rejoice in the gift of music.  It's the reason we dance.  It's the reason I wake up every day to an alarm Cliff created in the first month of this journey that starts with ""The Best Day of My Life'" (American Authors)  proceeds to "Happy" (Pharrell  Williams) and concludes with "Walking on Sunshine" (Katrina and the Waves).  On my surgery hypnotherapy loop tape I've also included "Fight Song" (of course) and tunes by the likes of Kenny Loggins, Bob Dylan and The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.  I picked songs that fill and inspire me (not necessarily soothing sounds to anyone but me).  

• I trust in the universal "Blueprint for Health,"and welcome that light, energy and love. 

My Guardian Spirits

• I have my amazing Guardian Spirits. My energy worker even asked me about my spiritual beliefs, having detected what he described as a very strong guardian energy. 

• I have my belief that there can be a cure to Stage Four Colon Cancer -- and that I have put forth everything I can nutritionally, physically (wearing out that treadmill), spiritually and intellectually to achieve that end state.  I have devoted the last six months to being the best team member I can be on this pro team of medical professionals, friends and family, energy/body/mind workers and the universal continuum of life.  I am ready.  I have NO anxiety as I head into surgery.  

• I trust the process of life. 

Little less hair, still smiling

So yes, I am ready to take a (chemo) break, wash some figurative socks and recharge for the way ahead.

Progress:

Nine chemo cycles down.

Still dancing every night -- lots of disco recently . . . .  Last night Pink's "So What" reminded I am still a rock star (aren't we all?)

Still waking everyday loving my life and full of gratitude.

Quote of the day:

“When you get to the end of all the light you know, and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly.”

                                                                                     ~ Edward Teller

20 weeks of flowers

VIA FRANCIGENA!