Big Sky and Glaciers

Hi Friends,

Thanks for checking in from time to time to catch up with me. I had sent 15 yr old Aa off to Costa Rica for 4 weeks and decided that I, too, needed a getaway. I wanted big sky and water and someone suggested Alaska. I found a 6 day kayaking trip that looked fabulous, but then realized it was overly ambitious. So instead, my sisthar met me in Seattle and we boarded the ms Rotterdam with 1500 other people and 600 crew. We "sailed" passed Canada to south east Alaska, experiencing everything from thick fog, choppy seas and strong winds to smooth water, bright sun light, gorgeous skies and beautiful clouds.
Now I'm home, feeling refreshed and relaxed. I actually forgot about my troubles for a few days. Aa is home and he had an "awesome" time. He arrived home the night before I came in and he surprised me while I was waiting for my luggage. He looked healthy and strong with a wide smile and he gave me a big hug. I wanted to cry. Four weeks was the longest I had been away from him for 15 years.

Commonweal Organization

Saturday I spent the day "in retreat" at the Yoga Healing Center in San Francisco, sponsored by the Commonweal organization for cancer patients. Among other things, Commonweal runs the Cancer Help Program, which addresses the unmet needs of people with cancer. I first heard about the center from reading Rachel Noami Remen's book, Kitchen Table Wisdom, back in 1997. It told the stories of those affected by cancer and how with the aid of Dr. Remen, they were able to connect to aspects of themselves that allowed their healing to unfold, whether that meant living longer or living more fully with the time they had left. That book, along with Stephen Levine's Healing into Life and Death, was a book I felt compelled to gift to people many times. I now realize I need to find another copy and re-read it.

The day was guided by the experience and love of the Commonweal staff and attended by a handful of other women affected by cancer. Sharing my story and hearing theirs, was poignant and touching. One of my challenges is to balance hope for the future with the threat of recurrence. Some women have been revisited two and three times, a devastating blow. The possibility is real and always hanging over one's head. We did yoga and had a delicious vegetarian meal prepared by Rebecca Katz. She joined us for a discussion of foods and recipes and we were all given her book, The Cancer-Fighting Kitchen. It was inspiring. At the end of the day, after a guided meditation, I left the center and walked along the streets of the Marina district to the water at Crissy field. I felt strong and warm (with blustering winds, fog rolling in and my jacket wrapped around my head) and hopeful that cancer won't define my life.

Tamoxifen

Yesterday I finally took my first Tamoxifen pill, one down 1824 more to go (5 years worth.) I had been putting it off, waiting to feel "normal" after the radiation treatment, or at least regain my stamina, but that was asking a lot. It was 5 months to the day I was diagnosed and it being July 4th and all, I put the pill in my pocket and left for E's baseball game. Sitting in the bleachers around noon, I quietly took it. It was that simple, and yet so complex. The thought of slamming into menopause and joining the ranks of hot flashers has been hanging over my head, it feels like the final end to my youth, in one easy swallow. The opportunity to slide gracefully into the next phase of womanhood while still parenting an 8 year old is not an option, because I really don't want more cancer to deal with. So side effects, depending on my body's reaction, are the trade off.

A couple of hours later in conversation with another little league mom, she revealed her diagnosis date and time of day from two years ago, her choice of mastectomy and chemo, and her daily intake of Tamoxifen and a pill that keeps cancer from returning in your bones. (Interesting. She is on the faculty at the UC school of public health and upon her diagnosis, changed all her insurance so she could go to UCSF, citing it as the cutting edge in breast cancer research. They recommend the bone pill and a pelvic sonogram as a baseline for uterine cancer, one of the Tamoxifen side effects.) Aside from those juicy suggestions, what she said that really resonated with me, is that over a year later, she still has a hard time accepting menopause at 44.

"A hard time accepting." Yes. I am not alone.

Distance

My 9th grade son, ADMS, left for Costa Rica last night for 29 days. I had signed him up for this trip soon after my future was rocked with knowledge of breast cancer. I couldn't imagine planning camping trips and keeping him busy, so I thought...get him out of Dodge...and immerse him in Spanish. I might have sent him to East LA given his attitude of late, but I saw an organization mentioned on BPN called Education without Borders. He'll be living with a family in rural Costa Rica and then working on an organic coffee farm and making smokeless stoves. I hope he learns a lot of Spanish and works hard and breaks a sweat for more than 20 minutes at a time. I imagine a couple of hours of hard labor would really do magical things for him, but I know it's wishful dreaming on my part. At 15 he needs his butt kicked, at least in this mother's opinion. I keep trying to give him limits but he does what he pleases and I end up yelling and then feel guilty for losing my cool (which starts at warm so I'm always half revved up to begin with). The immediate gratification of screaming is needed to relieve the pressure I build up in my little body when he disobeys me and leaves at will and comes home when it suits him, with complete disregard for any curfew I set. In my transition from parent as manager to parent as consultant, my expectations are going bonkers....too high....too low. My words now have no value while his values have been reduced to one: make each decision based on the most immediate gratification (which gives us a lot in common).