Party Time

I had my big welcome home party tonight at my loft. Great friends, lots of laughs, and a night I'll never forget. The life of your pal WunderGlo is very, very sweet these days. I'd write more, but my bed is looking way too comfortable right now.

Getting My Stitches Out and My Appetite Back

I awoke bright and early this morning and, along with Will and my mom, headed to Dr. Ramos's office for the big event: the removal of my stitches. From the big, long incision wound to the left and right chest tube sites. I have to admit, I've been a little nervous about the suture removal -- as my wounds have healed, I've accumulated little scabs and not-so-little scabs which grew exactly above some of the sutures. You can imagine why I was a little anxious -- to remove the sutures, Dr. Ramos would have to remove the scabs. Yikes.

Still, despite my anticipation of the stinging pain, I was very excited to see Dr. Ramos. Having him pluck out my sutures seemed right, like things were coming full circle. After all, Dr. Ramos was the first doctor to diagnose me, the man who removed my first tumors in my small and large intestine, and the first soul to see all the cancer that Dr. Sugarbaker removed. Plus, he's an awesome and fun guy and I couldn't wait to give him a hug.

We got to his office, and about 20 minutes later, I was reclined, Dr. Ramos was snipping, and I was being freed of the sutures that once bound my flesh together. Did it hurt, you may ask? Yes, but not as much as I thought it would. Not even close. Dr. Ramos promised that he would make sure it wouldn't really hurt, and it didn't. I only had to close my eyes and clench my teeth once, and it was only for about 2
seconds.

Strangely enough, the minute the sutures were out, I was hungry. And I ate. Then took a nap. Then ate, and ate, and ate. Not a Herculean amount, mind you, but an almost normal human being amount. This is major progress on the appetite front, and a great sign to me that my body is really and truly bouncing back.

Hard to believe that a month ago today, I had 13 tubes in my body in the ICU. Time flies. Time heals, too.

OMM Welcomes Me Home

Exactly one month after my surgery, and exactly one week since I touched down back in L.A., my O'Melveny family welcomed me home in grand fashion. At 4pm, my colleagues and friends all gathered on the 18th floor, in our attorney dining room, to shower me with the love and support they've given me since the day I joined the firm. I walked into the room to applause, hoots, and hollers from some of my favorite people, and was immediately immersed in hug after hug. It felt incredible to see everyone and to feel how genuinely glad they were that everything worked out perfectly for me. 

I'd been looking forward to this day for a long time -- probably since I learned about my diagnosis last September. This day would be a truly triumphant one. Throughout my treatment, I dreamed about returning back to the firm post-surgery, utterly victorious over cancer and planning my return to my life as a full-time associate at OMM.

And today, it actually happened. It was -- quite literally -- a dream come true.

I managed to keep my emotions in check -- that is, until my best friend and partner-in-crime, Tim, delivered a moving and beautiful speech in my honor. But it wasn't just the words he said -- words of praise about my strength and courage in the midst of my battle -- but the fact that it was my little Timmy speaking those wonderful words to me that touched my heart. You see, dear readers, my Timmy is very, very special to me. 

Before my diagnosis, when I was running around the halls of OMM as a full-time third year associate, Tim and I were attached at the hip. We went to lunch every day together, were in constant contact throughout the work day, headed to the gym together at around 7pm every day, grabbed dinner after the gym frequently (if not, we were heading to a Dodgers or Sparks game together), and chatted online with each other when we were back at our respective homes and finishing up our work for the day. We went on trips together, tried new restaurants together, and were each other's go-to friend for anything, big or small. Tim is more than my best friend. He is a part of my family, and a very important part of it. 

When I went on my leave of absence, I lost that constant contact with my best buddy. I think I've missed that more than anything during the past several months. Don't get me wrong -- we still talk every day, all the time, and are constantly coming up with new inside jokes and plans for future adventures together. But the day-to-day, minute-to-minute contact has been altered because of my brief episode with "the cancer," and it hasn't been easy. Simply put, I've missed my friend. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard and so often with any other person, to be honest. And laughing is good for my organs! And my soul. 

I was thinking about all of this as Tim spoke, and the tears welled up in my eyes partially because of the sincere love and friendship we share, partially because of the words he spoke to honor me, but also partially because of the fact that I know that Gloria and Timmy time will resume very, very soon. My tears were those of utter joy and relief, of gratitude and happiness.

Even though I don't officially start back up at work until sometime in August, I came back home today. I was back with my partner-in-crime and all of my other beautiful, talented colleagues. And I was as happy as I've ever been.

Getting Involved in the Community

It's pretty clear what communities I belong to -- my O'Melveny community and the legal organizations I support (including the Western Center on Law and Poverty and MALDEF), my larger community of Los Angeles and one of the most unifying institutions in our city -- the Los Angeles Public Library, and the Duke and Stanford alumni communities (although I pretend like I'm a Duke student when I'm back in Durham). 

But what I'm realizing these days is that I'm also a part of another community -- the cancer warrior community. And I want to be involved in it.

So a couple of days ago, I starting poking around on the Internet, looking for any 5Ks in the L.A. area benefitting colon cancer awareness. I figured that I'd recruit all my friends, lace up my sneaks, and raise as much money as possible for the colon cancer organization hosting the event. I was sorely disappointed. Nothing -- no 5K in the entire city of Los Angeles during the month of March (which is, incidentally, Colon Cancer Awareness month). Instead of throwing up my hands in frustration, I decided that I'd be the one to make something happen in L.A. for my favorite brand of cancer (and by favorite, I mean my favorite kind of cancer to murder). Today, I started making things happen.

This morning, I had an awesome 45 minute conversation with Ben Basloe, Director of Development at the Colorectal Cancer Coalition (otherwise known as the C3 Coalition). Ben is a super awesome guy, a big college basketball fan (though a die-hard Syracuse fan, he still respects my Blue Devils), and full of great ideas. Instead of running with my initial 5K idea, Ben suggested that I might be interested in organizing a 3-on-3 basketball tournament. 

Best idea ever? Yes!

So it's settled. I'll be working with the C3 Coalition and bringing the lovely City of Los Angeles a 3-on-3 basketball charity tournament (and maybe a silent auction too?), with proceeds benefitting the C3 Coalition. The anticipated date for this extravaganza will be mid-August, so I can make sure this event is organized right. So incredibly excited for this. And yes, of course I'm going to play in the tournament. I've got my eye on a couple of teammates already.

 After my call, I picked up the phone again and called my Congresswoman (Roybal) and Senators (Feinstein and Boxer) and did my part in supporting the C3 Coalition's "Congressional Butt-In," which is a campaign to urge Reps and Senators to co-sponsor the Colorectal Cancer Prevention, Early Detection, and Treatment Act. The bill will create a national screening and treatment program modeled after the successful breast and cervical cancer screening programs. It's an important bill -- it'll help educate the public about the necessity of screening for colon cancer, and will make screening available for those that might not otherwise be able to afford it. I would absolutely love for you, my dear readers, to pick up the phone tomorrow and become a part of the "Congressional Butt-In." Here's the low down on everything you need to know: http://fightcolorectalcancer.org/c3_news/2011/03/with_just_one_phone_call_help_save_thousands_of_lives.  

There's really no better, more satisfying feeling than doing something to make your community stronger. I'm proud to be a cancer warrior, and I'm thrilled about sharing my energy and efforts with the cancer warrior community.

A Great Day at Work

I dipped my toe back into my pre-diagnosis, wonderful life as an attorney at O'Melveny & Myers today. I'm not officially going back to work until sometime this summer, after chemo is over and I've had a little bit of time for vacation, but today, in a way, marked my first step back. And it felt great.

I headed to the office this morning (okay, it was more like noon -- this cancer warrior needs her rest!) to meet with my two mentors, Mark and Carla. The topic of our meeting was my yearly review, an accounting of how I did in every aspect of my job at OMM. This doesn't just include the normal stuff you'd think of -- my legal skills, relationships with clients and partners, etc. -- but goes far beyond that. Our firm has three values: excellence, leadership, and citizenship. One's leadership skills in and out of the firm, relationships with attorneys and staff, and general contribution to the firm family are also essential to any review of an attorney's progress at OMM. And so they were with mine.

I'll cut to the chase here: it was a really great review. And talking about my progress and contributions to the firm made me so excited to get back to OMM. I can't wait to work with my colleagues again, take advantage of new and exciting opportunities, and improve myself as an attorney and a citizen of the firm. When you go head to head with cancer, you really take stock of the things you're really passionate about and what you're just doing to pass the time. Being an attorney at OMM most definitely falls into the "things I'm passionate about" category.

Tonight, I went to the Century City Bar Association's Annual Banquet and Awards Ceremony to support my mentor Carla, who won their Litigator of the Year award. Slipping out of my post-op sweats and into my old power suit was awesome. It was like I was reclaiming my former life, a life I loved so much. The event was fantastic -- I saw tons of my colleagues, who all lovingly welcomed me back home. Carla also knocked it out of the park (as usual) with a brilliant speech. On top of it all, she mentioned me, the blog, and the fact that I'd be the Mayor of Los Angeles in about 15 years time. A totally unexpected and wonderful shout-out from a woman I admire and love very much, so you know that WunderGlo's heart was touched. And I'm very happy about the plug to my future constituents, too!

My preview of my future life as a full-time mid-level associate at OMM was sweet. The path outstretched before me is so clear and exciting, and it's just the kind of inspiration I need to close the book on this cancer once and for all.