My Body Responds

I'm going to admit it -- yesterday, I was a little disappointed in my body. I've given it sufficient rest, fed it with incredibly nutritious food, and have slept a lot. I'd started acupuncture, not pushed myself, and demonstrated more patience than I ever have with its getting back on track. But despite all my care and goodwill, I didn't feel like my body was being the beast it usually is. These four wounds along my incision line were painful, gaping, and not healing fast enough for my liking. Sure, I'd only started actually cleaning them YESTERDAY, but the truth of the matter is that I just was not impressed with this body of mine. 

Today, my body responded to my silent criticism. With vigor.

As I peeled off my gauze, soaking it in the shower and hoping it wouldn't hurt too badly, I felt no pain. As the gauze came off, I looked down, wondering what these four wounds would look like. I was astounded. They have healed at an insanely fast pace. The top hole is no longer a hole, simply waiting for one more layer of skin to render it healed completely. The hole below that, which used to be a bloody mess, is a pink, healing triumph. And the bottom two holes -- the behemoths -- look amazing and are filling in fast.

I can't tell you how wonderful it felt to know that, yes, after all this time, after everything it has had to endure, this body of mine is still miraculously strong and healthy. It's an odd thing to say you're proud of your body, but I am. So proud. And so inspired to keep on embarrassing cancer.

It's Not Always Easy

Throughout my battle with "the cancer," I think I've taken all the physical challenges and the pain in stride. After three months of chemo and two surgeries -- one of them being ridiculously long and complicated -- I can confidently say that I've handled this disease and the sometimes-difficult treatment required to eradicate it. 

But it's not always easy.

Take my incision wound for example. The top half of the wound has healed gorgeously, with pretty pink flesh all grown in and the incision mark getting lighter by the day. The bottom half of the wound is a different story. There are four spots on the incision wound where my skin didn't fuse together. Simply put, I've got four holes along my incision line, the largest hole at the very bottom of the line. 

Are they scary to look at? I'm going to go ahead and break the suspense and tell you YES, THEY ARE. You'd cringe if you saw them on me, so imagine how I feel knowing that they friggin' belong to me. These areas are healing well -- I know this because Dr. Lenz looked at them today and said so -- but man, they are sensitive. Given how deep they are, you can imagine why. I've got some really, really fresh and raw skin exposed to the world. 

So yeah, it's not easy dealing with these wounds. Bandaging them up, changing the gauze -- which inevitably requires me to pull off some skin or mucus that had attached itself to the gauze (which does not feel good), and cleaning them: not exactly the most fun I've ever had in my life. 

But here's the thing. You can't enjoy triumph without enduring some adversity. You can't feel the rush of victory until you've taken your bumps and bruises along the way. And ever since my "pick it out/pour it in" surgery, I've been riding high on triumph and victory. Like I said about a week ago, I felt like I had almost celebrated so much that I'd lost my fighting focus for the next round of chemo. So, in a way, the new challenge with these wounds is keeping me grounded, reminding me that "yes, you are still in the fight for your life so you'd better keep your edge," and giving me a reason to regain that focused intensity that has carried me this far.

You know what, four holes along my incision wound? Thanks. 

It's not always easy, but it's always worth it.

Nolan Smith Makes Me Cry Tears of Joy

This weekend, while I was relaxing, recouping, and healing, I watched a lot of basketball games...a LOT of basketball games. Among the teams I watched, of course, were my Duke Blue Devils. They continued to inspire me, as always. Especially Duke's senior guard, Nolan Smith.

I've loved Nolan ever since I learned about his life in an ESPN "Outside the Lines" story. As a child, Nolan was best friends with his college hoops and NBA star dad, Derek. But at the age of 8, Nolan endured one of the worst possible tragedies. On a family vacation, Nolan watched his father suddenly pass away from a heart attack. The story of this little boy, hurt and saddened to be without his dad, is heart wrenching. I couldn't imagine losing my mom or dad now, let alone as a second grader.

But despite the incredible loss at such a tender age, Nolan grew up to be an incredible young man. He's a true leader on and off the court, a brother to all of his teammates, and a devoted son (I know this because he frequently tweets about hanging out with his mom and how much he loves her). And the way Nolan plays basketball reveals even more about his character. He never gives up on himself or his teammates, he plays hard for every play of every game, but most importantly, he plays the game with joy. You can tell that he loves what he's doing, and he's not afraid to show it. Whether through a beautiful move to the basket, a three pointer from the corner, a leap from the middle of nowhere to snag a rebound that much larger guys should have gotten, or a quick flash of a smile to his teammates, Nolan plays with all heart and that heart is filled with love for the game...and for life. 

Nolan's heart inspires my own, and it's always a pleasure to watch him do his thing on the basketball court and lead his team to victory.

Today was one of those days. Nolan played brilliantly and led his Duke team to the ACC Tournament Championship, nabbing the Tournament's Most Valuable Player award in the process. The sheer jubilation that he showed when bounding off the court and into Coach K's arms at the end of that championship game moved me to tears. It's clear to me that this Blue Devil loves life, and there's nothing more beautiful than that.

Nolan has been through unspeakably difficult times. Instead of crumbling, he grew into a strong, positive person who embraces joy and exudes it. In that way, I feel a deep kinship with him. When Nolan smiles, I smile. And when he smiles really big, I have to grab a Kleenex because I'm probably about to get teary.

Next up for Nolan is the NCAA Tournament, and I know that this amazing young man will do everything he can to lead his team to another National Championship. And if Duke is in that National Championship game, I'll be there -- wearing his jersey, cheering him on, and trying to hold back the tears.

My Complicated Relationship with Vegetables

For those of you who know me well, you know how I feel about vegetables. I wouldn't describe it as "intense dislike," but, in truth, I'd rather not eat them. If you are reading this and thinking -- "Wow! I really enjoy spinach/broccoli/cauliflower/carrots/cucumber! I could eat that stuff all day! I wonder what her problem is?" -- consider yourself smirked at by your pal WunderGlo. I know you don't really like vegetables. Don't lie to me or yourself. We'd all rather have a cookie.

However, given the fact that I am both a vegan and a cancer warrior, I've had to load up on veggies during the last several months and make them a part of my daily diet. It hasn't been too much of a challenge but, in the same breath, it hasn't been a culinarily exciting time, either. Steamed zucchini and raw carrots aren't offensive, beets are exceptional, and veggie burgers and hot dogs do quite well at approximating the real thing. 

Recently, though, I've become truly inspired and excited about something veggie-based that is insanely good for me: green juice.

This vegetable and fruit based juice is not your regular can of V8. I'm talking about freshly made juice, made from my very own juicer (compliments of my mother-in-law), created with a variety of organic vegetables and fruit. You can also get these hard-core, nutrient-rich drinks from many vegan restaurants in L.A., but I prefer my homemade brew. Honestly, as I drank my massive juice this morning -- a concoction that included kale, celery, cucumber, carrots, and apple -- I actually thought that I might prefer green juice to beer. I think that might be taking it too far, but that's how much I'm enjoying this stuff.

Green juice is awesome for you, loaded up with the nutrients and enzymes that makes your digestive system a very happy camper (it's also fantastic for your entire body). And most importantly to me, it helps your body maintain an alkaline state, which is exactly what cancer cells don't want. And I'm all about giving "the cancer" a hard time. 

I never thought in a million years that I'd be drinking green juice daily and enjoying it. But here I am, cancer-free, determined to stay that way forever, and surprising even myself.

Learning a Life Lesson

You know, I can say, without hesitation, that I've learned a ton since my diagnosis. I really believe that I'm a wiser person now that I've locked horns with "the cancer." I now know the importance of sleep and rest (which are different things - also newly learned), diet and exercise, stress management and meditation, and living each moment in that moment.

One thing I still haven't learned? Being patient with my body.

This present stage of my beat down of cancer: the post-op rehab period, has been the most challenging for me.

Am I in major pain? No, not at all. In fact, I haven't taken pain medication since last Saturday, and days before then, I was only taking one pain pill a day. 

Am I feeling sick? Absolutely not. Ever since my "pick it out/pour it in" surgery, my body feels fresh and new, as if Dr. Sugarbaker gifted me a brand new set of organs.

But do I have an incision wound that runs the length of my abdomen, along with two chest tube wounds under each arm? And are these wounds not quite healed? Yes. My wounds are still scabbing, leaking a touch of fluid here and there (don't worry - no infection here), and healing. And as long as I'm healing, my activities are limited. I can walk, and walk, and walk, and that's about it.

I dream of hiking, lifting weights, shooting hoops. I want to run and jump and smack the heck out of a softball. I long for that painful, winded feeling in my lungs, the feeling of sweat dripping off my forehead, the sound of a basketball I just shot hitting nothing but net.

But those dreams are deferred, and they must stay that way for now. 

In the meantime, I need to be kind to my body, to give it the time it needs (which, to my body's credit, is really not that much), and to listen to it instead of just trying to power through. It's an important lesson, and clearly, still one I've yet to fully learn. But I'm trying to learn it, and I will.

(On a related note, when did this Duke University English major and Stanford Law School journal editor-in-chief become such a meathead?! Jeez, WunderGlo -- go read a book already.)