Introducing...The WunderGlo Foundation

Now that I've gotten a minute to catch my breath from my whirlwind trip to New York (update on my action-packed few days coming soon), I'd like to proudly present the up-and-running, ready-to-be-seen, full-feature (though I still need to add some content here and there), shiny-and-new website for my non-profit, The WunderGlo Foundation.

www.wunderglofoundation.org

Check it out and let me know what you think!

What a Difference A Year Makes

This time last year, I was in a hospital room in Good Samaritan Hospital, bloated and in pain and with no idea about the fact that I had scores of cancer cells thriving and multiplying in my belly. I was in high spirits, of course, but not in good shape.

Today, I'm at the office, feeling fabulous, and about to head to New York City for the UN Summit on Non-Communicable Diseases. I'm going to be speaking to a group at Cornell Medical School on Sunday and at a youth rally on the streets of New York on Monday morning. I'm going to meet LIVESTRONG CEO Doug Ulman on Sunday, and will probably meet Lance Armstrong, too. I've gone through my first round of FOLFIRI and came out the other side feeling better than ever.

In a year's time, I went from a person not that far from death to a healthy, thriving cancer warrior with a legal career, a book in the works, a non-profit organization, and a charity event coming up around the corner. I am so grateful to everyone -- my doctors, family, friends, and all of you -- who had a hand in shaping my cancer-killing adventures and transforming them from a potentially terrifying situation to an exhilirating one.

What a difference a year makes, indeed.

I'll let you know how it goes in NYC. It's bound to be magical.

Moving Forward with FOLFIRI

So far, chemo week hasn't been too rough. I got detached from my bag o' chemo this morning with no fanfare. I've been sleeping and eating pretty well. The gross, hangover-like headache I used to experience while on FOLFOX is gone. In its place, however, is a bit of an upset stomach. Not an upset stomach that results in unfortunate bathroom encounters, but more like a cramped, sour stomach feeling. Finding a comfortable position and getting to sleep last night was tough, and I popped Tums and Tylenol until my belly pain was beat into submission. Today, I felt much better -- I got up, headed to work for a bit, worked out, and now I'm taking it easy. The stomach discomfort isn't gone but it's under control. In terms of Wednesdays after chemo, this is one of the best ones I've had.

Some very, very exciting things are brewing in WunderGlo-land -- for the Foundation, my upcoming trip to NYC, and the tournament. But before I share them all with you, I'm gonna take it easy for a bit. Part of being a cancer warrior is knowing when to relax. Now is the time.

Chemo Round 14

Today, I had my first encounter with my new chemo cocktail -- FOLFIRI -- and, by the looks of it, we're going to be great friends.

Chemo Day was awesome, as usual. I woke up not as amped as usual, but calm. Collected. Confident. This was one of those challenges that I knew I'd already dominate, so I didn't need to get quite as pumped up for it. I felt great walking into Norris for treatment again, like a true survivor and a veteran of stuff that would make most people shudder. I felt like a champion.

The treatment itself went quite well. I rested in bed (no Benadryl this time, so no nap), sent emails about the tournament, hung out with my three nurses, watched The Dog Whisperer (for Winston education) and Misery (because I can't get enough of scary movies, even the ones I've seen dozens of times). I must have gone to the bathroom for pee breaks about a dozen times. I heard my belly gurgling while getting my Avastin (probably my gut wondering what the heck was going on) and felt a little jumpy/dizzy when I got some pre-meds for my Irinotecan. I've gotta say, though, it was a great session. At the end of my treatment, I got some special visitors -- my friend from high school, Caitlin, and her dad, who is also a patient of Dr. Lenz. Chatting them up gave me just the energy I needed to power through the rest of the day which included -- you guessed it -- the gym.

I headed to Educogym around 6, and after tearing through parallel squats, leg extensions, thigh curls, seated calf raises, and walking lunges, I decided to go for the gold with the leg press. The leg press, for those of you who don't know or might have forgotten, is that exercise where you rest on your back and push up weight with your feet -- a great all-leg workout. As I approached the machine, I thought -- you know what? I'm going to show these silly straggler cancer cells something they'll never forget -- and I set the weight at 240 pounds. After 20 reps, I changed the weight...to 260 pounds. After busting out that set in no time flat, I finished strong with another 20 on 240. If these cancer cells were confused before (as in, "umm, are we the only ones here?"), now they are confused and terrified.

As is my routine on the first day of a new chemo cocktail, I ended the night with a fun adventure -- not a concert this time (although I still really, really love Mumford & Sons), but a Dodger game with Will, Timmy, and my friend Michelle. Dodgers lost but it didn't matter. Vegan hot dogs and spending quality time with some of my favorite folks made a perfect ending to my big, big day.

Despite the bag o' chemo that I'm now relaxing on the couch with, I've got to say it: life is great. Actually, it's better than great. It's perfect. It's just as it should be.

Game On

I got my scan results yesterday. I'll cut to the chase to avoid stringing you along because I'm sure you've been awaiting the news. 

It looks like I've got a bit of disease left over in my belly. This time, we're poised and ready to get rid of it for good. I wouldn't actually call this a recurrence. What I'd say is that these cells were never really gone, are quite weakened, and don't add up to much disease. 

This is good news. Although we all wish I could've been "one and done" with one very aggressive treatment plan of chemo/surgery/chemo, it's not too realistic to think that I would be completely done with this disease given how freakin' much of it was in my body about a year ago. Think about it like a cheeseburger (ironic example from this vegan) -- you know when you take the burger out of the wrapper and there are still little cheese remnants stuck to the packaging (ahhh, I used to love those)? You've basically got the whole burger in your hand (and eventually down your gullet), but there are still some remnants of it hanging around the wrapper.

That's exactly how I'm conceptualizing this sprinkling of "the cancer." There isn't a lot of it, and what is there is not the kind of "supercharged" cancer you'd expect. The PET scan results show that this disease is confused, weak, and moving much, much slower than strong, "healthy" cancer cells would be moving. Dr. Lenz actually said this fact was "astonishing." I give all the credit for this achievement -- basically stopping a once-aggressive form of cancer in its tracks without any chemo for months -- to my diet and fitness regimen. I am strong, fit, and filling my body with only the best, most nutritious foods and supplements. 

My new chemo cocktail is called FOLFIRI, and I start on Monday. It's almost like the first day of school (where did I put my old school Trapper Keeper?), and I'm just as excited for it. As long as chemo goes well and keeps these foolish, masochistic cancer cells in check (which it will), I'll spend some quality time with Sugarbaker in early January. After he does his thing, I'll check back in at Norris and get enough FOLFIRI to send this cancer packing for good.

So how am I doing with all of this? I've gotten this question a lot in the under 24 hours since I've learned about my new battle with cancer. 

I'm doing great. Honestly. I'm excited to start treatment and to finally squash this punk. I'm totally healed from February's surgery, I'm coming off a solid break from chemo, and I've got a smidgen of disease in there especially compared to what used to be in my belly. I'm amped about helping other patients get through their treatment while I get through mine, and I think this will only help the advocacy work I plan to do with The WunderGlo Foundation. I'm going to stay put at O'Melveny and I can't wait to continue doing my job while chemo does its job. 

I've been told that I've inspired people and I know I do. I know that my family, friends, and colleagues -- the people I love the most -- have been and are the most profoundly affected and inspired by what I've done over the last year. It's an incredible gift, being able to inspire my loved ones and having the ability to deeply enrich their lives. This new battle will give me the opportunity to do even more for the people I hold so dear -- to remind them about the important things in life, to make them laugh and cry, to help them live their lives in super-HD. Obviously, battling cancer is a physical and emotional struggle. But this single reward of helping my loved ones had made and will continue to make the journey so incredibly worth it.

I am resolute and ready to do this, standing hand in hand with Dr. Lenz, Dr. Sugarbaker, Will, my parents, my family and friends, O'Melveny, Duke, Stanford Law, and all of you, dear readers. I promise to you and to me that we will prevail. 

This time around, we know exactly what we're dealing with and exactly what needs to be done. This time around, I'm stronger, smarter, and healthier. 

This time around, cancer is the underdog - not me.