Couldn't Have Happened To A Better Person

Generally, when I tell people about my diagnosis, they look a little horrified. If not horrified, then very upset. And if not very upset, then really concerned.
 
But you don't have to be. No need for sadness, worry, or fear. Because, really, this couldn't have happened to a better person. Really, I mean it.
 
Do you know anybody else as mentally and physically tough as me? Someone who relishes an opportunity to achieve a huge goal and beat the odds while doing it? Someone who aspires to be like a Great White Shark in terms of toughness and brute strength? Someone who never, ever gives up, especially on herself?
 
See? I was made for this fight.
 
Since leaving Good Samaritan in mid-September, I've gained all the weight I lost while at the hospital (that's 8 pounds, ladies and gents). I've been weightlifting for the past three weeks (and I'm definitely getting the guns back). I've read books on beating cancer, changed my diet, started acupuncture treatments, and traveled to San Diego, Santa Barbara, Palm Springs, Maryland, and Seattle. I've started this blog, which has been a blast to write and has resulted in friends and strangers sending me beautiful messages of love and support on a daily basis. I've got the best doctors in the world, the best family and friends, and I'm getting stronger and having fun every single day.
 
I've gotten messages about the fact that I must be scared sometimes or that there must be tough days mixed in with the good ones, but no. Not really. In all honesty, and with all sincerity, let me tell you something: this whole cancer-killing adventure has been great. Yes, it tests your confidence in yourself. Yes, it tests your faith. Yes, it tests your ability to go without red meat and booze for months at a time. But it's been great. And I'm going to win, which will be better than great.
 
So, my dear readers, if you happen to tell somebody about what I'm going through, and you get the normal, common response, just smile and tell them, "Honestly, it couldn't have happened to a better person."

All the Above

We all have our favorite music -- lyrics that inspire us, beats that make us bob our heads, melodies that make us smile. I've always felt that my life has had a soundtrack. Songs remind me of a point in time of my life (for example, Ja Rule reminds me of my freshman year at Duke because our cafeteria played his music on loop), or a friend (my best bud from high school, Erin, and I practically worshipped Joni Mitchell and Stevie Nicks), or a great moment (like our wedding song, John Legend's "Stay With You"). 

Beating cancer also has a soundtrack. And my theme song is called "All the Above." 

"All the Above" is a rap song by a guy named Maino. I first heard it at Dodger Stadium, where Tim and I were permanent fixtures as season ticket holders for the last year and a half. It was played every time Tim's favorite player, James Loney, approached the plate for his at-bat. We loved the catchy hook, and I downloaded it soon after. I listened to it passively, singing the chorus whenever it came on, but didn't give it too much thought. It was just a fun hip hop song.

Fast forward about a year and a half later, and I'm fresh out of Good Samaritan and cruising around La Jolla with my parents and Will, about to consult with the brilliant surgeon Dr. Lowy about my future treatment. I'd hooked up my iPod to the car radio, and was playing all hip hop, all day. The song came on, and I really listened to the lyrics. Luckily, my sunglasses were on and nobody could see that my eyes had filled with tears. The lyrics spoke to me deeply -- they were empowering and touching. This song felt like it was made for me.

I played it again, and again. Then, Will remarked that the song's lyrics were a perfect fit for me. My mom and dad agreed. Later on, when we headed to Round Two of Chemo, we played it for Rhett. And last week, we played it for Ruth. So far, everyone agrees -- "All the Above" is my killing cancer theme song. And now, I want to share it with you (mind the profanity).

 The following lyrics are some of my favorites and are especially dedicated from me to cancer:

How the hell could you stop me?
Why in the world would you try?
I go hard forever,
That's just how I'm designed,
That's just how I was built
See the look in my eyes?
You take all of this from me,
And I'm still gon' survive

And here's the song itself:

 I'll share more songs from my beating cancer soundtrack as I find them.

A Magical Time in Seattle

I was in Seattle for about 24 hours, and my time there was one of the most exciting days in recent memory. When I thought things couldn't get any better, they did. 

My mom and Will and I landed on Saturday night, checked in to our sweet hotel, and headed off to a delicious dinner at the Steelhead Diner. The next morning, we grabbed a lovely French breakfast at Cafe Presse, and soon after, I was off to my acupuncture appointment.

We walked the streets of suburban Seattle, enjoying the crisp air, and came upon an unsuspecting two-story home: our destination. I was led up to a room on the second floor, stripped down to undies and crawled under the covers of the acupuncture table, and waited. Mary Ellen had explained how this appointment would work -- the queen of five-element acupuncture, Judy Worsley, would enter the room (followed by a bevy of acupuncturists watching and learning from the queen), chit chat with me for a while, determine my treatment for the day as well as follow up treatments, observe Mary Ellen as she administered the treatment, and give her thoughts on how it went, etc. Sounds simple enough, and pretty fun. 

It was INCREDIBLE.

First off, Judy is awesome. She was super cool, incredibly warm and comforting, and clearly brilliant. We bonded pretty much immediately, as I told her all about my diagnosis, treatment, my personal attitude, my moves on the basketball court, and pretty much everything else. The other acupuncturists (I call them ducklings) laughed at all my jokes and seemed a little blown away by my positive attitude. Mary Ellen was there too, smiling with encouragement. I realized at that moment, though she and I have only known each other for a few weeks, we'd bonded over those weeks. As I held Judy's hand and talked with her, I could tell that Mary Ellen was proud of me, like I'm her little star. It made me feel great.

After about 30 minutes, Judy was ready to huddle with Mary Ellen and the ducklings, so they all left for a downstairs room while I continued to relax and wait for my treatment. About 15 minutes later, Judy and the group came back. What the heck? I was sure that only Mary Ellen and Judy and maybe one duckling, at the most, would be coming back -- but there they all were again. Judy apologized and said they had a couple more questions. She said that she knew the answers to their questions, but preferred that they hear from me directly.

They asked me what my feelings were about death. Particularly, would my attitude be the same if I knew that I'd lose this battle?

I stopped for a second. I wanted to be thoughtful about this and really check my gut before I answered. I checked it, and I answered. My attitude would be the same.

Of course my attitude would be the same. When you're a competitor, you compete. You fight and you exhibit a fighting spirit throughout the entire battle. Even if I had a handwritten note from God herself saying, "WunderGlo, this is gonna be it for you. Sorry about that," my attitude wouldn't change one bit. You fight for your life, and you believe in yourself, and you're positive and confident and that's the end of it. I'm a sore loser, but only when the fight isn't fair. But I've got the best attitude, a strong body, an even stronger will to live, and the best people caring from me including my doctors, Mary Ellen, my parents and Will, my family, and my friends. So yeah, no attitude change.

I could tell that a couple of them were actually, legitimately blown away. Judy smiled and touched my cheek. "I knew that already," she said. She looked over at two of the ducklings, who were immediately embarrassed, and asked, "Now, do you have any more questions for her?" They shook their heads. And then they all left again.

Soon after, Mary Ellen came back with a smile. "As always, you were the star," she noted as she entered the room. Yay! 

Treatment went great. There were a few new spots where I got some needle action, and I felt invigorated and relaxed during the entire process. Judy came in to check my pulses when it was all over, but before she did, she took my hand and looked me in the eye. "You know something," she started, "I believe you. I believe in you 100%. I can't make any promises about what is going to happen with you, but I believe that you're going to be absolutely fine. I believe you." 

I smiled, but I'm sure my smile didn't actually convey how happy her affirmation made me. It was great to have a vote of confidence from this passionate, incredibly cool lady whom I loved immediately. Then things got better. Judy took my pulses. This consists of the same physical process of taking one's normal pulse, but taking the pulse from 12 different spots (6 on each wrist) which correlates with 12 different meridians in the body. I haven't started speaking fluent five-element acupunture-ese yet, but I'm learning.  

Mary Ellen is always pretty excited at the end of my treatments when she takes my pulses, seemingly because my body has reacted quite well to the treatments, but Judy seemed really amazed. As she took them, I could tell she was impressed by my body's reaction to the treatments, and when she finished, she told me, "I really do believe you're going to be fine, especially if you continue to respond to treatment like this. This is amazing." 

Soon after, I said goodbye to Judy and Mary Ellen, got my clothes back on, and hit the streets with my Mom and Will, feeling like I was walking on clouds but actually pounding the pavement to a nearby bar where the Duke-Princeton game was being aired. Yes, I was in Seattle and I just had a stellar acupuncture session, but I'm not going to forget about my Blue Devils. Priorities, people.

This is also where things got better.

We picked this particular bar, Buckley's, because Will had done a little research and found that Dukies would be gathering there for the game. There was one Dukie there, a '71 grad named Buzz, but he was all we needed. 

This guy was super, super cool. A fellow Blue Devil, a fellow lawyer, and a really interesting guy. During halftime, we talked about the team, why I was in Seattle (that's when I let the cat out of the bag about the cancer), my blog (of which he already knew because of the link that the Duke fan sites posted to my Duke Basketball-related post), practicing law, the tech world (he runs a company called ActiveWords), and Duke's recruits for next season (we Duke fans are always looking toward the future). Mid-way through our conversation, Buzz dropped the bomb. The best bomb ever.

"So what are you guys doing for Thanksgiving weekend?"

Buzz and his friend scored four front-row tickets to the Duke/Oregon game, scheduled for the Saturday after Thanksgiving in Portland, and he offered me and Will his two extra tickets. I tried to keep my cool as I accepted immediately, but I was flipping out. As if having an incredible acupuncture session in a beautiful city with delicious food wasn't enough, I was going to see my beloved Blue Devils from the front row in a week's time!!

The game was beautiful -- Duke won by 37 points -- and Buzz's offer was even more beautiful. Things are just coming together brilliantly for this future cancer survivor.

After the game, we strolled through the famous Pike Place Market, where I purchased a small Tupac painting (the artist could not believe I was buying it for myself at first, but soon understood my love for the rapper was real), saw massive fresh fish, and was awed by the gorgeous flowers and fresh fruits that lined the market stalls. We grabbed some delectable dinner at Wild Ginger, took a brief rest at the hotel, and jumped on the light rail to the airport. 

The trip could not have been better. It's still soaking in. That's a lot of awesome to pack into 24 hours, don't you think?  

Seattle rocks. And so do my new pals, Judy and Buzz.

Chemo: Round Three

Round Three of Chemo got off to an incredible start. Woke up, checked my email, and saw that Coach K had sent me a message. Could this be the best possible way for a lifetime Cameron Crazie to begin his or her day? Yes, I think so. Was inspired to ditch the Rocky shirt for today and wear the Duke Basketball shirt that Coach K had sent over a couple of weeks ago. I think it's pretty becoming on me.  

Got to USC Norris a little late, but rocked out to some special pre-chemo music (post about my cancer-beating theme song to follow) on the way there. Filled a few vials with my blood (and a little cup with my pee pee), scarfed down an egg salad sandwich (my favorite chemo meal), and had an awesome meeting with Dr. Lenz. 

The chemo itself went great. It seems like the time I spend for my treatments is getting quicker and quicker. Part of it because chemo is actually getting quicker -- one of my drugs (Avastin) is administered over 90 minutes for the first treatment, then 60, then 30, so I've cut my chemo time down from five and a half hours to four and a half. 

But there's something else, too. I'm in the zone.

In other words, I'm getting really, really comfortable with the process, which goes like this: I start off with a Benadryl-induced nap, wake up and eat more egg salad, hit the bathroom a lot for what we commonly call "Number One," chill out with my parents and Will (today, my OMM mentor (Carla) and my OMM partner in crime (Tim) visited me, which was awesome), do a bit of emailing and Facebook posting, and, before I know it, I'm detached from the machine, hooked up to my bag o' chemo, and ready to roll.

After chemo, as I've done for almost three weeks now, I suited up for the gym and pumped some iron. I had a great workout and, while I made my back and biceps burn, noticed that I felt particularly awesome. As in, no mild headache, no tiredness, not any physical indication that my body wasn't anything but totally content and rarin' to go. Post-gym, I went shopping at Trader Joe's for some healthy, yummy food -- and continued to feel particularly awesome. Had dinner -- pasta (made from brown rice), turkey meat sauce, and some other delicious gluten-free ravioli -- and still felt particularly awesome. 

What is this all about? I'm sure my preparation had something to do with it. I'm sure the ol' body is getting used to this chemo business, and that has something to do with it. I'm sure the email from Coach K had something to do with it. I'm sure my workouts have something to do with it. And I'm sure all the support I'm getting from family and friends (including you, my wonderful readers) have something to do with it. 

But I REALLY believe that Seattle has something to do with it. Post on my outrageously great day in Seattle to follow.

Week in Review/Week in Preview

Well, it's that time again and I've got lots to share, so I'll get right to it.

Week in Review

• Started off my week at the office. Spent time with my OMM fam and worked on the book. Always great to be downtown.
• Ruth came to visit!! She landed on Tuesday morning and shipped off to the UK on Saturday night. We had a blast while she was here - went to Santa Barbara, hung out in Santa Monica, played basketball and tennis, worked out at Educogym all week, and capped off our week with a trip to Palm Springs. I spoke with my fake British accent for most of the week, and sometimes Ruth busted out her fake British accent even though she has an actual one. All in all, a stellar time with one of my best buddies.
• Got the best surprise ever: a personal DVD message from Coach K. The awesomeness of this is still sinking in.
• Exercised every day: walk/jog around the neighborhood, weights at Educogym, shot some hoops, played a little tennis.
• Palm Springs trip with Ruth, my parents and Will, my grandma and uncle and Tim and David -- did some gambling (I won almost $200 and Will lost $140), had some delicious food (the baked brie with fig chutney was incredible), and spent quality time with my loved ones.
• Went to a Kings game in the OMM suite at Staples with my parents and Will, Ruth, Tim, and Anna.
• Hung out with my awesome friend Aymee on Wednesday night, who I managed to terrify by forcing her to watch A Haunting in Georgia with me. Please let me know if you're interested in watching it with me - always looking for another victim. ;)
• Spent a little over 24 hours in Seattle - will write a post about my incredible time here, but let me soak it in first.
• Drank lots of water, got all my Lovenox shots, and took all my vitamins.
• Made a good dent in Anatomy of an Illness book - pretty great so far.
• Watched my Blue Devils go 1-0 after putting a pounding on Princeton.

Week in Preview

• Round 3 of chemo: I think I'm getting good at this
• Get back to painting: have received many requests for my "Love Life" painting already
• Keep up the weight training every day at Educogym
• Adventures in the Palisades on Friday: meditation with friend Aymee and acupuncture with Mary Ellen
• Finish Anatomy of an Illness book
• Work on the book and blog
• Hang out with Stanford Law bud Morgan, who is visiting for the weekend
• Help Mom plan for uber-healthy Thanksgiving by looking up gluten-free recipes
• Drink tons of water, get all my Lovenox shots, take all my vitamins, sleep like a champion, keep taking it to idiotic cancer

Have a wonderful week (in super HDTV), everyone!!