Chemo Round 26

I got home from the Coachella Music Festival at 4am on Monday morning, filled with joy by the incredible music I’d heard and memories I’d made (more on that coming soon). 

But there’s no rest for the weary in the land of WunderGlo.  Several hours later, I was back to killing cancer with my buddies Avastin and FOLFIRI.

All in all, this round went well. It wasn’t quite as easy as the ones that came before (I did a good bit of napping this time around), and I’m going to attribute that to my exhausting but amazing weekend that immediately preceded it.  Now that it’s Thursday, I’m feeling almost at 100%, which I’ll definitely get to by tomorrow morning when I’m heading into the office.

As always, I’m impressed and blessed by what my body can do. Sometimes, people say I’m “lucky” that I’m young and dealing with this disease. I’m not sure that being diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer at the age of 28 can really be characterized as “lucky,” but I get what they’re saying.  Part of my resiliency is, no doubt, attributable to my age. But that’s definitely not the whole story. My diet, my fitness regimen, and all the other things I do to make myself as strong and formidable an opponent against cancer is all part of why I’m doing so well in this fistfight of mine. There are no excuses, no complaints, and no regrets in this journey. I work as hard as I can to help myself and others, I embrace all the challenges of cancer treatment, and I savor each moment of life.  

I don’t concern myself with statistics of survival. I don’t flinch at the idea that my odds of long-term survival aren’t good.  In fact, I actually don’t even believe that. I think my odds of living a long, long time are actually pretty fantastic. 

I’m living, I’m thriving, and I’m enjoying every minute of it. 

And that sends a cold shiver down cancer’s backbone. 

Seize The Day

A cancer diagnosis could be the worst thing that ever happened to a person or the best thing that ever happened to a person. The general public would agree that it's the former, but all of you WunderGlo readers know that, for me, it's the latter. My diagnosis woke me up from a life that I loved, but didn't truly savor. It freed me from constraints and responsibilities that only existed in my mind. It opened my eyes to the beauty that every moment in life presents to us. And it helped me learn how to honor my body, mind, and spirit.

We hear the term "carpe diem" or "seize the day" often, but what does that really mean? For me, it means soaking up all the goodness that each moment provides, seeking extraordinary times no matter where I am or what I'm doing, and being grateful at all times for the mere fact that I am alive, well, and able to have the presence of mind to enjoy my life in the way that I do.

Yesterday, I found out that my CEA tumor marker had fallen yet again -- almost 2 whole points, to an 8.8. Chemo is working, my body feels fantastic, and cancer is, more than ever, on its way out. This news would obviously be enough to propel me into a super-charged, incredible day.

But, of course, that wasn't all that happened in my day. My cousin -- a sophomore at UC Riverside (and an academic stud there, I might add) -- and I went to Day 1 of the Coachella Music Festival in steaming hot (as in, 100 degrees) Indio, California. After the first act we rocked out to, Kendrick Lamar, we found some shade and sat down. Immediately, we agreed that we'd be going to Coachella next year, and the next year, and the next. The music, energy, fairgrounds, heat, shade, and 75,000 other concert-goers made the day so memorable it's hard to even fully process. Mazzy Star dazzled us at night, and during the day, I nourished myself with organic vegan food including a beet/carrot/celery/parsley juice (seriously, the food people at Coachella have blown me away).

Our feet were tired by the time Will picked us up from our shuttle stop. We slept like rocks.

Today, I embrace another day, so grateful to be where I am and who I am, cancer diagnosis and all. One of my favorite rappers, Childish Gambino, is set to take the stage in a couple of hours. Tonight, we get to see Radiohead live. There are few things I love more than music, and there are few groups I love more than Radiohead, so it's bound to be a powerful, super-HD type experiences. I'm trying to contain myself for fear of imploding before the set begins. It's going to be beyond, beyond, beyond awesome.

Yes, it's true. I'm seizing the hell out of this day. I hope you are, too!

Duke!!

Last Wednesday, I took off for my beloved alma mater, Duke University, for a couple of days of good times culminating with The WunderGlo Foundation's first-ever event outside of L.A.: the "Go To Hell, Cancer" 3-on-3 basketball tournament at Duke. 

It's hard to explain the feeling I get when I'm back in Durham, but it can only be described as that reassuring feeling of coming home. And what a homecoming it was. Instead of a narrative, I'm going to go stream of conscious this time around. Forgive me if this medium isn't what you're used to -- I have a feeling you're going to like it anyway.

Blue skies, Duke Chapel, Cosmic Cantina burritos (vegan, of course). Open roads, warm days, just a little sip of sweet tea (refined sugar is the devil, remember). The Duke Stores (bought a throwback snapback Duke hat that is almost too cool for me, but not quite), the Duke Gardens, the renovated Perkins Library (seriously, where did that reading room go that I used to study in all the time?!), roaming the halls in the Allen Building just like old times. Walking up to total strangers/incredibly friendly Duke students and telling them about the Foundation, getting a hug from a buzzed student whose parents are oncologists. Freshly-squeezed orange juice from Alpine - just as amazing as I'd remembered. The tortillas from Dillo were equally spectacular.

Winston and Oliver snoozing on the Bryan Center walkway as Will and my parents finally catch a breather.

The Men's Basketball Team Banquet, touring the Duke Cancer Center, meeting with the Director of Development of the Cancer Center. Planning big things.

The unforgettable feeling of pure excitement while shooting around before the tournament and seeing Coach K and his family enter the gym. Telling my cancer-killing story and explaining the mission of The WunderGlo Foundation to the tournament participants and spectators (without anything written down this time). Hitting a three -- a very low percentage three -- during one of my games while Coach K watched, hitting other shots too but not enough to win my games (still processing the losses).

Old friends, new friends, lots of laughs, lots of pictures. Mellow Mushroom pizza (vegan style) after a long and satisfying 3-on-3 basketball tournament. Not wanting to leave Durham and plotting ways to get back soon. Driving away from Duke but knowing that it is a part of me every single day. 

And there you have it. Duke is a magical place, and this trip to Durham only added to my love for my school. And you thought it was all about basketball, didn't you?!

(Note: A lot of it is about basketball. You weren't entirely wrong. But basketball is so much more than basketball.)

Good Times

When I wake up every morning, I can’t help but smile. Not just a happy smile, but one of those “cat ate the canary” smiles. Because I know that, no matter what the day is, it’s bound to be stuffed with adventure, activity, good times, and excitement. I know that I’m about to run circles around a lot of people, and I know that I'm about to have the kind of a day that leaves some people exhausted but leaves me forcing myself to go to sleep at the end of the day. 

Hehehe, I think to myself as I open my eyes to the morning light. Yessssss. Another day to do my thing in this world. LET'S GO! 

Sometimes I almost feel like I’m getting away with something. Here I am, a Stage IV colon cancer warrior in treatment for over a year and a half now -- not actually supposed to have lived this long and definitely not supposed to feel and be this well -- having the time of my life. It’s like a light switched on when I was given my diagnosis. Not a light that lit up a previously dark room, but a light that made an already-lit room glow like neon. I know I’ve talked about “life in super-HD," but now my days are practically glowing with energy. 

Some examples.

Sunday was Easter, and I wanted to be with my family but also knew that I needed to get my brand new house in order. I figured that the best decision would be to combine the two – to get the house in working order and in showable form before 3pm, when my loved ones came over to celebrate the day. I popped out of bed and started unpacking and restacking boxes, cleaning walls and filling cupboards, and singing from the Sister Act II soundtrack at the top of my lungs (it was a holy day, after all) as I did my part to get our home looking sparkly and ready to be seen. Without hesitating, I soaked my pjs with our leaky garden hose as I gave a good watering to the trees and succulents and flowers in our backyard.

Then, I noticed something a little awry. One of the potted cacti on our deck had died (it was probably dead when the previous owners left it for us) and was looking dreadful, so I decided to put it out of its misery. I dug my hands in the dirt, trying to uproot the behemoth. Then I pushed and prodded the thing, making little progress against its considerable heft. Then, I had a bright idea. I crawled into our storage space, over to the bag with my softball equipment. Moments later, I was sweating and swinging, and making some real progress. I hope my neighbors didn’t see the wild-haired, soaking wet, PJ-wearing new neighbor with a bright red softball bat whooping the crap out of a dead cactus, but if they did, they’ll at least know a little about me already. I scampered off to the bathroom, showered off the dirt while feeling very accomplished, and greeted my family in my big terrycloth robe. After visiting me in the hospital a few times now, they’ve seen me in less put together shape, so I figured why not. Eventually, I put on real clothes and had a wonderful, sun-soaked day with them.

The next day, I busily buzzed around my office, tearing through mounds of work and getting plans in place for The WunderGlo Foundation’s 3-on-3 basketball tournament at Duke on Sunday. And then I got some awesome news not at all related to my health: I found out that I won my first legal award – I was named one of the 50 young attorneys on the “Fast Track,” according to the legal journal The Recorder. I’m going to be honored at an event in San Francisco in early June with my other Fast Trackers, and I’m beyond grateful for the recognition. You may think WunderGlo is all about killing cancer, but don’t sleep on my legal career, guys. To be nominated by O’Melveny for this award and then to actually receive it is incredibly satisfying and a true honor. I rounded out the day by taking my surgeon, Dr. Genyk, to a delicious vegan dinner at Sage Vegan Bistro. Unlike Dr. Lenz (yup, I’m calling you out, my man!), Dr. Genyk is actually open to a vegan diet and its benefits, and I intend on showing him the ropes.

How to top off a Monday like that? With Tuesday. Opening Day at Dodger Stadium with my best friend Timmy, a full and satisfying day at work, a meeting at Norris with the cancer survivors council, a meeting with Dr. Lenz to talk about one of my BIG ideas (that is actually getting put into motion (more on that soon, but trust me -- it’s huge)), and packing for my trip to Duke.

And here I am in my hotel room in Durham, North Carolina. After a full day of travel, a delicious vegan burrito at Cosmic Cantina, and a drive around Duke’s East and West Campuses, I’m here with all of you and thinking about winding down my day. After all, tomorrow is bound to be a big one. ;)

Chemo Round 25

It’s almost been a week since I settled in my bed at the USC Norris Cancer Center’s Day Hospital for my 25^th round of chemo, and my memories of it continue to grow fonder.

Unlike some folks, I don’t dread chemo, I don’t hate it, and I don’t call it “poison” or any other overly-negative moniker. Poison kills you. Chemo extends your life and kills cancer. I like to be careful with my language because it really is a reflection of attitude and perception. For all my cancer warriors out there that are guilty of using the “poison” term, do yourself a little favor and stop talking trash about the stuff that’s trying to save your life. Just do it, alright?

Anyway, back to chemo round 25. As always, it went smoothly. I was tended to by extremely capable and caring nurses and was comfortable during the duration of my infusion. During the tail end of infusion time, while I was soaking up the last drops of Irinotecan and waiting for my Leucovorin push and subsequent attachment to the 5-FU “bag o’ chemo,” I got an email from Taline, Dr. Lenz’s nurse practitioner. Taline and I have this normal Tuesday routine when I email her with the subject line “CEA?” and she tells me what my number is. Usually, I respond with a “helllll yeahhh” then I forward the email to Dr. Lenz and say “hey, did you see this?! Sweet!” But today, I was getting an email from her on Monday, while I was still guzzling up my chemo.

It was good news. My CEA tumor marker had dropped from a 12 to a 10.7. Proof that cancer is disappearing in my body. Support for the fact that my medical treatment, attitude, diet, fitness regimen, and overall approach to life is working. I am – we are – slowly but surely snuffing out this deadly, aggressive disease.

Bouyed by that news, I had a great week. I was even more active this week, seeing the light of day and getting out of bed for extended periods of time on every day of the week.  Don’t quote me on this, but I think that eventually, I may actually be able to hold a normal, toned down schedule on chemo weeks. No pressure, of course, but it’s something to quietly aspire to.  After all, I’ve got a minimum of seven more rounds of FOLFOX + Avastin – I’ve got time to get even better at rocking out treatment weeks.

Meanwhile, cancer doesn’t have much time left at all.