Violets

I have a thing for violets. I love the way they turn towards the light. I love how they bloom and bloom. And I love how they seem to thrive with my non-green thumbs.

Sometimes you need to cut off a few leaves. They may get old and droopy or out of symmetry or something... but you can take the leaf and put it in water and it will grow roots very quickly. Then you can stick the leaf with roots in a pot of dirt, and in a few more weeks, you will have a new plant.

 Isn't that adorable?

As the new baby plant matures, the leaf will begin to die. But it is all the same. The same plant, the same energy, the same color flowers. Life goes on.

And soon you have a new plant with tiny buds of flowers that you can't see here... but in another few weeks, it will bloom too. One continuous cycle of life.

Cool, huh.

Facebook and allowing

I saw a picture just this morning of a friend that I haven't seen or talked to in almost exactly 30 years. And she looks as adorable as she did the last time I saw her. That is what makes me love facebook. All the other stuff, I don't need.
Sometimes I think that looking back over your life can be a good thing. It can be cathartic.
As implied by the definition found in the Oxford English Dictionary, a cathartic experience may refer to a process of releasing pent up emotions, for example by listening to music.  That is what I think of when I refer to cathartic and I only say this because I knew there was another definition.
In medicine, a cathartic is a substance which accelerates defecation.

Same thing I suppose. It is good to look back through life and empty out the drawers and photo albums in your head. But don't stay there too long because it keeps you from living right this moment. I think that's another good thing about facebook, it keeps you in the moment and that is where we all live.
Right here, right this second.

Right now, I am a tired little camper.

Yesterday I saw Dr. Casanova. I noticed Corey, his nurse and adorable person, dipped out of the room quickly and said something about him wanting to talk to me. He always talks to me... at length and I felt my stomach sort of drop. 

He wanted to tell me that I am doing really well, and I don't look ill but actually, very healthy... my blood work is good, everything medically is fine, other than a low grade temperature.
"People will look at you and just think you are back to normal, but you have to allow yourself the time to heal." 

He actually told me that I should only do in my work, "whatever brings you joy and the rest of it, tell them to fuck off, you aren't doing it." He is Argentinian but grew up in Italy so you have to imagine this accent. Its great. I have never heard him drop the f-bomb.

In fact he wants me to only work part time, as he said, "until you have a full head of hair".  I said, "Hello, it all just fell out again!"
He smiled. "I know. That is a good sign, a gauge for you. I know what chemo does to your body that you cannot see. So take 6 months and allow yourself to heal."

He knows the stress of work, dealing with cancer patients every single day, his own office and staff... and his family. He said, "I had a good screaming fight with a nurse today, and it actually felt pretty good."

Okay, I was sort of stunned by that remark. But, he really was in a great  mood.

The truth is, I have a stressful job.... in very pleasant surroundings and with some of the kindest people I know. I wear a pile of hats. Busy, busy, busy all day and always more new projects to work on but, no extra hours in the day to do them. Stress comes from always living in the future, when you can have all your jobs done, but that time never comes... so you just stay in a constant state of stress and wanting to be some place you aren't.

I told the doc that I am fine. Okay, I work and get home around 6, cook dinner, read a book or watch a movie, fall asleep and go to bed. On weekends, I sleep and rest and do house worky stuff and get groceries, try to see my family... but I am pooped. Then the week begins again.

My doc said to cut back the hours and the job description. Take an extra day off to rest so on the weekend, so you feel like doing something that brings joy to your life. Even a walk on the beach or a park or whatever. "If you are too tired on the weekends to do that, your are too tired to heal."

He is right.

Looking up

The thing about eyebrows... is that when they are missing, and you need to sort of sketch them in with an eyebrow pencil... which I normally do anyway cause mine have some scars and are pretty thin, but... the thing is, you look at your self everyday, particularly at your eyebrows... but when they aren't there, damned if you can remember what they look like! Where do they start, where do they end and where is that arch supposed to be??? It is all erased from memory.

So, I can create any shape I want... I can look like the old Brook Shields bushy eye brows..


Or a thin Greta Garbo line...

I have also discovered that I can appear surprised! or angry.. or like the Palm Beach set whose face lifts have arranged their eyebrows a few inches higher than normal...and I do it all with an eye brow pencil.

There are good points about having a lack of hair. I have a 36" inseam and I haven't had to shave my legs in a long time! If you come for dinner and there is a hair in the soup... it isn't mine! I haven't bought shampoo or conditioner or hair color in months. I haven't gone to the beauty salon either. Think of the savings!
Well, it will all come back soon. This time I really think I have had my last chemo but will find out for sure, hopefully on Thursday.
I had to stop chemo for a month before surgery and about another month after before they started the chemo again and my hair was growing back very quickly. Salt and Pepper. But when I started back with the chemo, my hair hurt. (I know, but it does! Sort of feels like when you have had a pony tail too tight and then let your hair down.) I knew it was going to go again. But, the dark hair on my head is what I lost quickly so now I have mostly white fuzz. If I wet my hands and sort of push it towards the middle of my head, I look like the Gerber baby...



















50 years later!



LOL! So there is an image for you for the day! 
Keep your sense of humor at all times.

What? You think I don't whine??

Trust me, I whine. I get sick of needles and shots and feeling like I have been hit by a mack truck just as much as anyone would.

I still have a box of Christmas decorations on the floor.. my kitchen garbage stinks like rotten chicken and broccoli... I need to vacuum, iron, wash cloths, dust, organize, buy a camera, mail about 7 Christmas presents (!), wash the dog and clean out the litter box.  But I can't go there. That bus left and I wasn't on it. I am writing and that is what I have to do right now.

Some days are harder than others, it is just a process. When I begin to feel overwhelmed, I remember the people who do not respond to chemo.

I see the look in my friends and family's eyes when they see me.... and I know that I make them remember someone they lost to "C". 

Total strangers will look at me, recognize that due to the bandanna on my head that I am bald, and I can see the whole story in their eyes... the sadness of loss and the wisp of a smile... sending me encouragement.

(I forget sometimes that wearing a scarf is sort of a big sign... but I tried to use a curling iron on my wig... and, uh.... it just doesn't work. Unless you like patches of short and curlies on your head.)

I realize how incredibly lucky I am and then I decide that I really don't give a damn about stinky garbage or dust. I am going to work and having a great day and tonight, I will have dinner with the sweetest man in the universe and build a fire (kind of a rarity in S. FL) and be happy.  

How it works

Because so many have asked me how I got through these last several months... I want to share with you what I think helped me.

In the first place, I really shouldn't be doing as well as I am. Stage 4 that has spread to other organs and the lymph system is worse than a kiss from the Godfather. But, I am doing really well and there is hardly a trace left to find with the highest technology available today.

I am not special or amazing or any of those things. I am just another person, out of 3400 Americans diagnosed every day. Someone dies as a result, every minute of every day.

For me, I knew I had to maintain a positive mental attitude. I can be depressed just like anyone else and it is a downward spiral that sucks you deeper and deeper into depression that is much harder to get out of than to avoid all together.

A good friend had given me a book by Louise Hay a long time ago called "Heal your body". It was all about how we think and how what we think manifests itself in our lives. I had almost forgotten about the book and stumbled across it almost by accident (are there really any accidents? )  I went online to find out more information and discovered that there were quite a few books by Louise Hay that I hadn't heard of. I downloaded many books and listened to them everyday, driving to and from work and while at chemo every three weeks (5-6 hours) to avoid listening to CNN.

The very basic definition of what she teaches is that you create your life with your thoughts.... and... you can change or control your own thoughts; choose to be happy or sad, sick or well, resentful or accepting, negative or positive. Over and over I listened to her sweet voice telling me that I could be strong and well and whole and happy and I submerged myself in these positive affirmations.

One of the first things I noticed was how my drive to work changed. It is a 30 minute drive on average... either through town with a lot of lights or via I 95 where people zoom past you if you are going 80 mph. Driving to work was like entering the Indianapolis Speedway and I felt I had to compete with all the other drivers and deliver the appropriate gestures.... mainly the gesture involving my middle finger.

Louise encouraged me to think that all the drivers around me are good drivers and I am safe and secure on my commute to work. Previously I thought everyday that all the drivers on the road were complete idiots and that I feared for my life each day driving with them.
I began to actually ENJOY the drive and still do. I am divinely protected.

I think my Doc thought I was a little strange because I was genuinely so happy every time I came into the office. Trust me, there are a lot of sad people there. But nope, I wasn't sad, I was just dealing with it as it came. This was a challenge and I accepted it and determined to handle it the best way that I could.

Along with practicing positive affirmations with Louise, I had so many people praying for me. I could feel it working. This is not a miracle. This is how it should be.

Okay, so lets take God out of it just for the sake of argument. There is good and evil. I think most everyone could accept that. Or fear and love. Everything we say or do comes from one or the other. When we pray or... speak positive affirmations or meditate or simply think in a positive manner, I believe that we connect to everyone who is doing the same thing all over the world. Collectively, we are strengthening one or the other. It works the same in the opposite manner, if we are negative.  For example, watching CNN and buying into a collective, negative thought pattern as everone in the US at the same time (24/7) is saying or thinking "Oh my, that is just horrible. The whole world is going to hell and there is nothing we can do!" 

Remember Henny Penny??   "The phrase "The sky is falling" has passed into the English language as a common idiom indicating a hysterical or mistaken belief that disaster is imminent." (wikipedia)


Death is about the only thing I know of that is definietly going to happen to us all. And it isn't a hysterical belief of disaster but a natural and beautiful thing to do. I feel the collective energy of my whole family surrounding me with love whether they are dead or alive, it makes no difference. It is like a pool of positive love and energy and they are all asking  "Isn't the water fine?".  I just want to jump in that pool of happiness and live from there, now.

So don't waste your life thinking negativley about anything at all. Let all of your words be kind ones and love every single person you encounter. We are all part of a collective, good or evil, fear or love... we are all the same.
Just choose to be happy and live that way as hard as you can.

A New Day

As soon as I sit in front of my computer and open my blog to post a new one, the emotions come bubbling up and my eyes begin to leak.




What a year.



I have had a few years.... many of them have been challenging... and maybe I am getting a little soft in my middle years, or at least more emotional (if that is even possible) but 2010 was really something. In so many ways, this year has been really wonderful.



I am not making any resolutions. I think they are more set-ups for probable failure and guilt so, no thanks... I do however, have some goals.



The one thought that keeps coming to mind, over and over like a mantra is, What can I do to be a better person? How can I make a difference?



I have a chance to keep breathing for a while. What am I going to do with that time? I am not a bad person but damn, I know I can be better. I want to love more, live more, make people smile more. I want to hear a bird sing as if for the first time. I want to appreciate everything, more.



I want to share all the things I have learned and continue to learn with more people. Can I help someone that way? I hope so. My brain is working on a new blog. One that I would share with the public instead of this one that I mainly share with family and close friends.



My next and probably last chemo is this week. We are pushing maximum density on the toxicity level of chemo in my body, but so far so good. The last PET Scan showed normal (yippee) but the blood levels are still above normal for the type of "C" I have been treated for. I had an MRI on the 23rd of Dec. When they did surgery they removed my spleen and there was a lesion on the pancreas too, so they left the pancreas but removed what they could. The MRI didn't show anything there either. (yippee again) So, one more round and we will see if the blood levels reduce at all.



I hear a mockingbird outside my window. My grandfather could tell you exactly what kind of bird each call the mockingbird sang. I can't name one.... but I sure like to hear what it has to say. I think I will go outside and say hello. If you whistle, it will try to sing your song.



Love and peace to you,



Billie