Here's a little levity, surrounded by considerable mystery. Our faithful plumber, Bob Berry, went into our farmhouse this afternoon to turn on the water as there has not been a hard frost for the last few weeks in Maine. Entering the kitchen he found, to his amazement, the place ransacked with everything off the tables and stove, etc. and strewn 'round the room as if a bunch of crackheads had been on a binge. Warily, he turned his attention to the dining room, from there to the parlor, the hall, the library and my office. Complete disarray greated him at every turn. He was about to call the cops when he spied sooty little footprints on the stove and dining table. Aha! Unmistakably a raccoon! He/she had somehow entered the house and, as it was winter, with not much to eat and less to do, the varmit proceeded to enjoy his solitary pleasures. I asked Bob how long it would take to clean up the damage, and in true Maine fashion, he paused, calculating the scope of the disaster, and said "nothin' that a good 3 hours of solid, hahhd labor couldn't cure". Must be pretty much of a mess! He then proceeded to add that the culprit had eaten all the left-over Halloween candy that resided in a covered dish on the kitchen table. Bob continued laconically, "but here's a good one, he didn't eat the Hershey Kisses!". I had to think if they were the ones with or without almonds. Now the question is this, Danda. How did the critter get into the house? We button it up as snug as a bug in a rug. The chimneys are tall and have holes where wood stove flues are closed and latched. There were no radiator covers out of place. The key was still in the barn. How did our guest arrive and more to the point, has he departed? Any ideas? This should give you something to think about while under the covers. I thought the red sqirrels were cheeky little bastards, and the mice create their own small havoc nibbling the fringe off the rugs, but a raccoon with a sweet-tooth is pushing the limit. Perhaps Julian, your country boy, has an idea. Such are the joys of old farmhouses in rural Maine.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
FROM AWAY FARM MYSTERY
Here's a little levity, surrounded by considerable mystery. Our faithful plumber, Bob Berry, went into our farmhouse this afternoon to turn on the water as there has not been a hard frost for the last few weeks in Maine. Entering the kitchen he found, to his amazement, the place ransacked with everything off the tables and stove, etc. and strewn 'round the room as if a bunch of crackheads had been on a binge. Warily, he turned his attention to the dining room, from there to the parlor, the hall, the library and my office. Complete disarray greated him at every turn. He was about to call the cops when he spied sooty little footprints on the stove and dining table. Aha! Unmistakably a raccoon! He/she had somehow entered the house and, as it was winter, with not much to eat and less to do, the varmit proceeded to enjoy his solitary pleasures. I asked Bob how long it would take to clean up the damage, and in true Maine fashion, he paused, calculating the scope of the disaster, and said "nothin' that a good 3 hours of solid, hahhd labor couldn't cure". Must be pretty much of a mess! He then proceeded to add that the culprit had eaten all the left-over Halloween candy that resided in a covered dish on the kitchen table. Bob continued laconically, "but here's a good one, he didn't eat the Hershey Kisses!". I had to think if they were the ones with or without almonds. Now the question is this, Danda. How did the critter get into the house? We button it up as snug as a bug in a rug. The chimneys are tall and have holes where wood stove flues are closed and latched. There were no radiator covers out of place. The key was still in the barn. How did our guest arrive and more to the point, has he departed? Any ideas? This should give you something to think about while under the covers. I thought the red sqirrels were cheeky little bastards, and the mice create their own small havoc nibbling the fringe off the rugs, but a raccoon with a sweet-tooth is pushing the limit. Perhaps Julian, your country boy, has an idea. Such are the joys of old farmhouses in rural Maine.
money-grubber gourmet!
I thought now would be a great time for Alessandra's troops to do some surplus shopping while she sleeps and recovers from Round 7 of chemo. Since I had to dig for this website (I'm am now smarter and saved it to my Favorites on my computer and encourage you all to do the same), I thought I would make it easier for you all to click on the website and "take Alessandra out for a meal" or at least that is how I like to think of it. I mean, come on, for every big occasion don't we celebrate by going out to eat? or bringing home some fresh flowers?! So since "going out to eat" might not be in the cards at the moment, think of bringing food to her! Or letting her buy some fresh flowers that please the eye and awaken the senses when she is strong enough to venture out.
To make this fun, you can donate some money to the Whole Foods fund that Katherine and team have set up for the Priorelli-Murdoch household and then post a recipe for a healthful meal that they can go out and shop for! To remind everyone of the restrictions to her diet that she in place I am including her description of daily meals below, but I am sure we all have a recipe that includes chicken, fish, legumes or veggies or do some research online for quick and healthy meals and send it along! I will be sending a soup recipe when I get home tonight!
From an earlier post of Alessandra's:
Speaking of food, I have been asked about my new diet a lot, which I believe to be as crucial to my recovery as my chemo. Basically, I have completely eliminated dairy - I have soy milk (unsweetened) or rice milk in my cereal, and have been advised to try almond milk too as an alternative. All are acquired tastes, but not bad at all. Butter is now soy butter, cheese (my beloved cheese) is out. I have also eliminated refined sugar - the only sugar I have is in the form of fruit, or the occasional Manuka honey. Anything that lists sugar as an ingredient is a no go area right now, as cancer cells thrive on sugar, and so the f***ker is being starved. Another area that has been eliminated is red meat. So, I eat a lot of fish, and a lot of vegetarian dishes, with the occasional chicken or duck. I eat a huge amount of berries every day - blueberries, raspberries, strawberries... all of whose compounds are reported to make cancer cells commit suicide. My breakfasts are usually a cup of hot water and lemon, some green tea, followed by toast (spelt bread), a cup of organic muesli, and a banana. My mid morning snack is a home-made, freshly-made juice of carrots, broccoli, beetroot, and apple (sometimes I add celery and cucumber). Lunch is raw vegetables mostly - a salad of mixed greens, spinach leaves, red cabbage, tomatoes, avocadoes and mixed grains (quinoa, kidney beans, spelt, barley), and hummus and spelt bread. I sometimes have freshly made miso soup, or an egg or tofu omelette. Mid afternoon snack is again a freshly made vegetable juice (the "superfood" of my nutrition) and nuts (walnuts, almonds) and dried figs. Dinner is usually a concoction of roasted and/or steamed vegetables, curries, pulses, soups, fish/chicken, pasta.... I drink a ton of green tea, and I also have noni juice and aloe vera. My body has never been this healthy when it comes to nutrition. I am giving this my all. And I cannot begin to thank so many of you who I know have made this all the more possible by helping me get all of this organic goodness from Wholefoods.
So whenever you want to "send a treat" to Alessandra and her family, feel free to log onto this site and donate. http://supportforalessandra.homestead.com/ If you want Alessandra to get a note with the donation, you can do that on the site next to where you enter the donation amount.
While your at it you can also make a contribution to the fight against breast cancer and help Vicki achieve her goal of raising money while running to support Alessandra in a 10k road race around London! Auntie, I wish I had a "10k time" to beat, but alas each run leaves me happy that I went out and gave it my all, but for kicks try to break 1:20?! www.justgiving.com/victoriapriorelli
To make this fun, you can donate some money to the Whole Foods fund that Katherine and team have set up for the Priorelli-Murdoch household and then post a recipe for a healthful meal that they can go out and shop for! To remind everyone of the restrictions to her diet that she in place I am including her description of daily meals below, but I am sure we all have a recipe that includes chicken, fish, legumes or veggies or do some research online for quick and healthy meals and send it along! I will be sending a soup recipe when I get home tonight!
From an earlier post of Alessandra's:
Speaking of food, I have been asked about my new diet a lot, which I believe to be as crucial to my recovery as my chemo. Basically, I have completely eliminated dairy - I have soy milk (unsweetened) or rice milk in my cereal, and have been advised to try almond milk too as an alternative. All are acquired tastes, but not bad at all. Butter is now soy butter, cheese (my beloved cheese) is out. I have also eliminated refined sugar - the only sugar I have is in the form of fruit, or the occasional Manuka honey. Anything that lists sugar as an ingredient is a no go area right now, as cancer cells thrive on sugar, and so the f***ker is being starved. Another area that has been eliminated is red meat. So, I eat a lot of fish, and a lot of vegetarian dishes, with the occasional chicken or duck. I eat a huge amount of berries every day - blueberries, raspberries, strawberries... all of whose compounds are reported to make cancer cells commit suicide. My breakfasts are usually a cup of hot water and lemon, some green tea, followed by toast (spelt bread), a cup of organic muesli, and a banana. My mid morning snack is a home-made, freshly-made juice of carrots, broccoli, beetroot, and apple (sometimes I add celery and cucumber). Lunch is raw vegetables mostly - a salad of mixed greens, spinach leaves, red cabbage, tomatoes, avocadoes and mixed grains (quinoa, kidney beans, spelt, barley), and hummus and spelt bread. I sometimes have freshly made miso soup, or an egg or tofu omelette. Mid afternoon snack is again a freshly made vegetable juice (the "superfood" of my nutrition) and nuts (walnuts, almonds) and dried figs. Dinner is usually a concoction of roasted and/or steamed vegetables, curries, pulses, soups, fish/chicken, pasta.... I drink a ton of green tea, and I also have noni juice and aloe vera. My body has never been this healthy when it comes to nutrition. I am giving this my all. And I cannot begin to thank so many of you who I know have made this all the more possible by helping me get all of this organic goodness from Wholefoods.
So whenever you want to "send a treat" to Alessandra and her family, feel free to log onto this site and donate. http://supportforalessandra.homestead.com/ If you want Alessandra to get a note with the donation, you can do that on the site next to where you enter the donation amount.
While your at it you can also make a contribution to the fight against breast cancer and help Vicki achieve her goal of raising money while running to support Alessandra in a 10k road race around London! Auntie, I wish I had a "10k time" to beat, but alas each run leaves me happy that I went out and gave it my all, but for kicks try to break 1:20?! www.justgiving.com/victoriapriorelli
xoxo,
Lex
HOW DO YOU EAT AN ELEPHANT?
ONE BITE AT A TIME.
It would seem that you have made some serious dents in the particular "meal" that has been heaped on your plate, and you must continue to do so. Hunker down under your coverlet and visualize the potions in #7 doing their damndest to shrink and shrivel. Even a new regimen is palatable after the 7 big hits. Oral medication leaves you at home with Jubilant James! You can take your pill out into the sunshine and offer it up to the gods as you swill it down with your green tea! Go for it, strong, wonderful, willful Danda! Keep playing the cards that have been dealt you. You are a formitable opponent. Eat the elephant in little bites and wash them down with the elixir of spring and summer and sunshine. I am chomping at the bit to see you on the 15th! LSC
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
YOU ARE MY HERO!
Danda!
You make me so proud to stand by your side and support you as you continue to push through all that stands in your way. I could see your mind speaking in your last post after meeting with Dr. Plowman. And then I could see your body talking as you tucked yourself in for your upcoming hibernation.
We will take each day...each month as they come to make you whole and well and get you into remission. Believe it can happen. I believe it can. I think we ALL believe it can if you keep fighting. If that boob can shrink-miracles will never cease. That lymph node doesn't know what its in for!
Curl up. Let your body rest. We will be here when your strength returns. Spring will greet you with open arms and envelope you with warmth and fresh air. We send you hugs until then.
You are a strong woman who will get better. Enjoy the peonies I am sending you!
Lots of love,
Lex
Update.
Dear All,
A quick update, having just come home from the hospital and having had Round #7 of chemo. Saw Dr. Plowman who has scheduled me for CT and Bone Scans on Monday 18th. The plan is to stick with these three week chemo cycles, but instead of my current big hit of I.V. adjuvant chemo one day every 21 days, I will be switched to a different oral protocol, which I will take in tablet form for 14 consecutive days, followed by a one week break. So, I will start that new set of cycles on Wednesday 20th, keeping to my three-week regimen. Regardless of what the scans show, I will be on that new chemo treatment - what will be up for discussion is how long for, but I predict at least 4 to 6 cycles. Surgery is off the table for now, as the push continues to be to eradicate the metastasis and to shrink everything as much as possible. He checked my boob and confirmed that that continues to shrink nicely, while the damn lymph node seems to be resisting the full effects of treatment. Based on the scan results, Dr. Plowman may want to combine my chemo with radiotherapy to the node. So, I just need to focus on having this last round do its work to the best of its ability, visualise like never before, and say my prayers as we count down to the scans this coming month.
Must go and lie down, and get prepped for the next few days of "hibernation", as I feel the beginnings of the side effects. But I will keep you posted as always. Hugs!
A quick update, having just come home from the hospital and having had Round #7 of chemo. Saw Dr. Plowman who has scheduled me for CT and Bone Scans on Monday 18th. The plan is to stick with these three week chemo cycles, but instead of my current big hit of I.V. adjuvant chemo one day every 21 days, I will be switched to a different oral protocol, which I will take in tablet form for 14 consecutive days, followed by a one week break. So, I will start that new set of cycles on Wednesday 20th, keeping to my three-week regimen. Regardless of what the scans show, I will be on that new chemo treatment - what will be up for discussion is how long for, but I predict at least 4 to 6 cycles. Surgery is off the table for now, as the push continues to be to eradicate the metastasis and to shrink everything as much as possible. He checked my boob and confirmed that that continues to shrink nicely, while the damn lymph node seems to be resisting the full effects of treatment. Based on the scan results, Dr. Plowman may want to combine my chemo with radiotherapy to the node. So, I just need to focus on having this last round do its work to the best of its ability, visualise like never before, and say my prayers as we count down to the scans this coming month.
Must go and lie down, and get prepped for the next few days of "hibernation", as I feel the beginnings of the side effects. But I will keep you posted as always. Hugs!
Running For Life
This is not a marathon, which Danda's friend Lisa Castro has just completed, much less a triathalon, which Alexis is training for, but I have signed on to the Bupa London 10,000 10k race on the 25th of May and will be running for Breakthrough, a breast cancer charity. (Alexis, give me your last 10k time and I shall see if I can beat you - dream on!) There is a wonderful song that Danda has made me listen to called "Running For Life" and if that does not put speed in my stride, nothing will. It should be a hoot running past Buckingham Palace, St. Paul's Cathedral, The Houses of Parliament and along the Embankment. I need some sponsoring for the race so should any of you blog readers feel so inclined to make a small donation, here is the website to do so. www.justgiving.com/victoriapriorelli.
Danda just completed round #7 today and that in and of itself is harder than an Iron Man - a milestone! She is a star!
Love to all of you who write on or read this blog.
Danda just completed round #7 today and that in and of itself is harder than an Iron Man - a milestone! She is a star!
Love to all of you who write on or read this blog.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Goodnight Alex
Hello Alex,
Positive thoughts and extra fighting energy will be coming your way all day tomorrow. You are in my thoughts every minute!
Love
Lisa
Positive thoughts and extra fighting energy will be coming your way all day tomorrow. You are in my thoughts every minute!
Love
Lisa
deep breaths!
Danda,I wish I could write more, but am at work. I wanted to at least wish you all my best for you round 7 and meeting with Dr. Plowman. I can only hope the man with the magic eyes gives you the "medical boost" you need. We are all with you holding your hand and breathing long deep breaths with you. You've got this one kid-you are strong under all those tears. Believe that your body is healing itself-keep positive!
When mom arrives I will task her with being the portrait taker of you and James. I think she will enjoy the challenge!
Hugs and more hugs to you. You are beautiful and so very brave!That little boy has a lot to be proud of because his mom is a fighter!
Remember you've got nanny on your side as well, I believe she is in those wind blown clouds in the blue sky looking out for us all!
Lex
Believe!
On my desk, in my office, I have a beautiful silver casting of the word "BELIEVE". Behind this word is a willow tree angel. It is the angel of courage. She is standing with her arms outstretched over her head in a show of victory. Alex, this is the same angel I bought you when you got your apartment in Weston. At the time, I didn't pay attention to her title of the 'angel of courage'. I viewed her as a woman, triumpantly raising her arms in celebration of her achievement.
The word "believe" has become my credo for this year. It makes sense in so many ways in my life. I believe I can save money, I believe I can lose weight, I believe I will meet the man of my dreams, and on a larger scale....I believe in magic! As adults, we often lose our belief in the magic that occurs in our lives every day. Alex, as round number 7 comes around, I hope you will believe in the magic of your body to heal itself and know that you are like this angel (I hope you still have her). You have been so courageous and as this round comes and goes, you can raise your arms in pride that you have continued this battle with such grace.
I will be thinking of you over the next week as you feel the effects of the treatment and I will think of you especially as I look at my desk top angel and hope you might look at your same one and believe as I do in the magic that is possible.
Love you tons,
Mary
Here We Go Again...
Dear All,
Yes, it is the eve of Round #7, which awaits me bright and early tomorrow. It has been a rough day because, as always, and despite a bearable Round #6, I have struggled with the ups and downs of what these cycles signify, their toll on mind and body, and the possibility that rides on the curative power of treatment. While positivity prevails, tears have fallen in abundance in those moments of such fear that require deep breaths and visualisations of all the good that is to come in my life. My boob has been very sore the past couple of days, and the spin I put on it is that the nerves are regenerating and that the new tissue is taking over the silent, cancerous cells. My lymph node continues to make its presence felt, and I fight back with images of healing. Some days I feel the weight of it all and the burden seems ridiculously heavy, while other days I focus so well on opportunity, potential, and future, that nothing gets in the way of feeling "up". I will see Dr. Plowman tomorrow as I receive my chemo, and he will determine when to schedule my scans. I anticipate that they will happen in the next couple of weeks, allowing Round#7 to first do its work. And then the results, and the next plan of action: a) surgery first, more chemo after that in tablet/injection form, or b) more chemo in tablet/injection form, and surgery delayed for the autumn. One day at a time... I just feel at the stage that I need another dose of good news and Dr. Plowman's reassurance. As troop co-leader, he has the particular power to lighten my load a little with a medical pep talk...
I came across some quotes today, which resonated with me and where I am at this point in this journey, so I share them: (my favourites are of Dorothy Thompson, an American freelance writer of the early 1900's, children's author, journalist and anthologist)
Eleanor Roosevelt:
You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.
You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.
Robert Frost:
The best way out is always through.
The best way out is always through.
Dorothy Thompson:
Courage, it would seem, is nothing less than the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good; that everything is meaningful even if in a sense beyond our understanding; and that there is always tomorrow.
Courage, it would seem, is nothing less than the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good; that everything is meaningful even if in a sense beyond our understanding; and that there is always tomorrow.
Dorothy Thompson:
Fear grows in darkness; if you think there's a bogeyman around, turn on the light.
Aslan:
Fear grows in darkness; if you think there's a bogeyman around, turn on the light.
Aslan:
Why? Why Not? Why Not You? Why Not Now?
Thomas Carlyle:
Thomas Carlyle:
Permanence, perseverance and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak.
On a lighter note, I spent this weekend taking long walks in the sunny weather, exercising my legs, breathing the spring air, and letting nature work its magic. I also spent a lot of time enjoying James, and loving moments caught of him with family. I have attached some photos... I particularly love the ones of Julian reading to James: James adores that "Daddy time" and gets completely engrossed. As you may be able to pick up, the material ranges from a book on wildlife in the countryside to The Little Kitty...! I need to work on getting some photos of James and I together, but I am usually the one wielding the Blackberry camera and taking the random shots...
Send me some good vibes for tomorrow, will you all? I really need them, as I plan to knock down the f*%#er with this Round #7 once and for all and not have it get up again.... Thank you all, as always, for all of your amazing, overwhelming, and beautiful support. Love to all.
Round 7...?
Dear Panda,
Is Round 7 coming up tomorrow? It's marked for tomorrow on my calendar, but the blog has been so quiet lately that I am not so sure now. I'll think of you in any case, it can't hurt! I'm sure you feel stronger and so much better, after a few good days. You so deserved good days! It was nice to see your pictures from the weekend (thanks Sally for posting them). James was more cute than ever, caught by the flash of the camera like a deer in the headlights :)
I'm posting here a photo of "my" bike path on the way to work that I had the chance to take in the weekend. No, I didn't go to work, Uri and I went on a long bike ride and passed the point where we usually get off the bike path to get to our building. What you see in the picture is the valley as it looks looking back (that is, as it looks when we go back home from work). Nice, isn't it? These bike rides are the highlights of my days. The plants on the left are some of the apple trees (well, bushes) I was talking about a few days ago. As you can see, they don't have any flowers left!
In any case, just wanted to show you how my valley looks after a few days of rain. Green green green and more green. We are under the rain again, but we're expecting the sun by the end of this week. So, you see, there are silver linings under stormy clouds, and bright blue beautiful skies as soon as the clouds lift--and they do lift!
A big hug for tomorrow.
Monday, April 27, 2009
out of site, but not out of mind
Hi Danda,
I am so sorry to have been absent from the blog as of late. Work had me overwhelmed and I had to dig into training a bit more which has left me exhausted. I haven't even had a minute to read the blog let alone post which has been sad. Tonight I will make my big come back to the blog! I hope this letter finds you well. Quickly saw some pics of you on the site and you look beautiful!
Your followers have been growing as I have just sent out blog instructions to two more people! Below are the words of Pat Webb, who used to live across the street from mom and dad in maine, if you will remember. She asked that I post these words in case she was unable to get on the blog herself so I leave you wither her story.
XOXO and a BIG Hug,
Lex
Hi Alexis,
Your Mom sent me an e-mail with Alessandra's blog address.....Hopefully I will be able to get to it. But in the mean time I would love to send her a message of hope. I was diagnosed with breast cancer almost 32 years ago....and am still here !!! At the age of 32...with two little girls. Holly was 8 1/2 and Bess just turned 7 ! I was faced with the fact that I might not see them grow up.....My stubborn Yankee heritage kicked in and here I still am....No one else was going to raise my daughters......Danda has to do the same.....She has to fight for not only her life but that of Julian and their son......It is a tough scary road.....and will always be. But believe me if I can do it so can she !!!! She has her whole life ahead of her plus people who love her dearly !!!! I never had that kind of love and support....But over the years have had wonderful friends who have been there for me. Your parents among them....Tell her I am thinking of her.....Pat Webb
I am so sorry to have been absent from the blog as of late. Work had me overwhelmed and I had to dig into training a bit more which has left me exhausted. I haven't even had a minute to read the blog let alone post which has been sad. Tonight I will make my big come back to the blog! I hope this letter finds you well. Quickly saw some pics of you on the site and you look beautiful!
Your followers have been growing as I have just sent out blog instructions to two more people! Below are the words of Pat Webb, who used to live across the street from mom and dad in maine, if you will remember. She asked that I post these words in case she was unable to get on the blog herself so I leave you wither her story.
XOXO and a BIG Hug,
Lex
Hi Alexis,
Your Mom sent me an e-mail with Alessandra's blog address.....Hopefully I will be able to get to it. But in the mean time I would love to send her a message of hope. I was diagnosed with breast cancer almost 32 years ago....and am still here !!! At the age of 32...with two little girls. Holly was 8 1/2 and Bess just turned 7 ! I was faced with the fact that I might not see them grow up.....My stubborn Yankee heritage kicked in and here I still am....No one else was going to raise my daughters......Danda has to do the same.....She has to fight for not only her life but that of Julian and their son......It is a tough scary road.....and will always be. But believe me if I can do it so can she !!!! She has her whole life ahead of her plus people who love her dearly !!!! I never had that kind of love and support....But over the years have had wonderful friends who have been there for me. Your parents among them....Tell her I am thinking of her.....Pat Webb
We Were Born to Boogie!
Dear Danda,
I lived a true Springtime in London! And I didn´t only find it in London´s amazing and blossoming parks, but in your, Vicky´s and James´ company :) I am aware that I got to spend time with you on one of your "good days" but I can´t but be impressed by all you emanated the day we met! Your health, positivity, serenity and fighting spirit all shone through. Seeing dear Vicky more beautiful and elegantly simple than ever was another gift, as was having the privilege of meeting little James...to me he´s a mix of a wise man and an innocent bundle of joy! He looks great in the photos, but meeting him in person is quite something! I felt that he was beyond his "years" as he observed me curiously and peacefully with those spectacular blue eyes!
So, if I may share a little of my experience with all those who love and care for you and are far physically...seeing Danda was truly uplifiting! There was so much strength, humility, gratitude, persevering spirit and joy in our two hours catching up that I came out of their home with a heart uplifted. I have known Alessandra, Chiara and Vicky since I was a young teenager in Madrid, and it´s difficult to find the right adjectives to describe them...Inspiring yet real, invincible yet human, strong like the wind yet gentle like a breeze, determined like a flowing river yet flexible like a bamboo tree, bright like a shining sun yet honest when it´s time to be. I am sure when one of these three beautiful women wanes in their inner strength and positivity, the other rises up just like James keeps on fueling the joy with his "wise innocence". It´s this powerful force (together with so many other positive forces Alessandra has inspired) that is keeping Danda as well as she is given the crazy roller coaster she´s been through.
Danda, it was a true honour to be with you, laugh with you, listen to you and share with you. It was beautiful to be with dear Vicky and little James, and to feel Chiara´s presence through all your stories of how she´s helping. I have always admired Chiara´s resolve, humour and strong character, so it´s to no surprise she has become a topnotch "nutritionist"! I´m starting to keep my eye out for books to fuel her new passion: cancer and nutrition. And before I leave you with some final quotes, just a reminder (and it´s as much to your "perfectionist" self as to my own :)! ) to "be with it". The low moments are scary and dark, but they are part of the journey. All the "good days" have refueled you for the "bad days". You have such an amazing capacity to live every good moment deeply, passionately, fully that all the positive energy gained through them will be silently pushing you forwards when you feel low, quiet, sad, afraid, weak. There´s a Zen-Buddhist saying that goes: "When walking just walk. When sitting just sit. Above all, don´t wobble!"
As another Big Day is coming up soon, I leave you with a lyric from the Billy Elliot musical I saw whilst in London and that you also loved so much: "We weren´t born to stand still, Aint a question of will, Gotta move, it´s a fact, You were born to react, We were born to boogie!"
Love e tanto coraggio!
Sally
Friday, April 24, 2009
Sometimes, it just plain wonderful to be totally taken aback, slapped silly for being judgmental ,and filled with a moment of such joy and revelation that you wonder where your head has been for the last week. Admittedly, I am a tad behind the times - two weeks actually - and I do not delve into Utube as often as I should, but if you or anyone you know has not seen Susan Boyle sing "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Mis, than they are missing 7 magical moments. The old adage "never judge a book by its cover" is illustrated with textbook clarity. Enjoy someone's moment in the spotlight of time! It is illuminating to witness a human flower blossoming before your eyes. But then, it's SPRING!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Feeling WELL!!
Feeling well! I think you just made sure I'm in a good mood until the end of the month :)
Let me change the subject a little: That picture of James is so cute! I love him when he sits up like that, with his back straight and his hands on his feet. He started to look like you! Can you see it? (I sound like an old aunt, "He looks like Julian, no, he looks like you, no, he looks like Julian, no, like you...").
I've downloaded this last picture and the one you took in March (where James sits in the same position) and switched back and forth between them a few times. He grew up! This new one is now my favorite: he looks too handsome in blue.
OK, back to work. Have a beautiful day!
Let me change the subject a little: That picture of James is so cute! I love him when he sits up like that, with his back straight and his hands on his feet. He started to look like you! Can you see it? (I sound like an old aunt, "He looks like Julian, no, he looks like you, no, he looks like Julian, no, like you...").
I've downloaded this last picture and the one you took in March (where James sits in the same position) and switched back and forth between them a few times. He grew up! This new one is now my favorite: he looks too handsome in blue.
OK, back to work. Have a beautiful day!
Gratitude.
Dear All,
It is another sunny day here in London, and I have woken up feeling well. James greeted me this morning with rosy cheeks, big smiles, and "mamamamama", as we shared the early hours together in our pyjamas. Julian enfolded me in hugs, kisses, and positivity, as he got ready for work. I nourished my body with a healthy breakfast and my assortment of supplements. My mind, having done its initial to-and-fro-ing between some sadness and much strength as is typical of when I first wake up, geared itself up for yet another day of fighting. And so, I sit here, grateful for the "well", for the love, for the day.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Its Raining in Philly
Dear Alessandra,
I loved the photos, the sincerity and strength in your last post, and especially seeing your boys and yourself enjoying the (summer, ha, ha!) sunshine. It makes me want to hop on a plane and stroll through Holland Park with all of you. It also helps me put my own niggling little worries and daily grind into perspective and see them as what they are - just pebbles along life's path. I don't have any stunning, or even simple quotes or images to send you today. Just wanted to say I check on you often, and will keep on doing so until we all gather to celebrate your complete recovery. In the meantime, I'll keep marching in step with the rest of this army of Danda's friends.
Besos, Nora
I loved the photos, the sincerity and strength in your last post, and especially seeing your boys and yourself enjoying the (summer, ha, ha!) sunshine. It makes me want to hop on a plane and stroll through Holland Park with all of you. It also helps me put my own niggling little worries and daily grind into perspective and see them as what they are - just pebbles along life's path. I don't have any stunning, or even simple quotes or images to send you today. Just wanted to say I check on you often, and will keep on doing so until we all gather to celebrate your complete recovery. In the meantime, I'll keep marching in step with the rest of this army of Danda's friends.
Besos, Nora
Feeling fine
Hi Panda,
Very nice to see you smiling and out in the sun! Even better is reading that you are feeling fine! What a wonderful word "fine", such a simple, humble word, and it means so much. It seems so easy to be "fine", yet it can take so much work. I realize that your feeling fine is an unstable state, that can change anytime and there are always worries in the background, BUT you are feeling better, you got a break--and I'm sure this will recharge you so much in so little time!
This great news will get my good mood going at least until the end of the week :) I'm sure you'll take advantage of these good days to be outside in the sunny spring London is blessing you with. On a side note: the photo of James and Julian is so nice. James looks so much like Julian, he's so cute--and handsome, of course, like his father :)
A hug.
Very nice to see you smiling and out in the sun! Even better is reading that you are feeling fine! What a wonderful word "fine", such a simple, humble word, and it means so much. It seems so easy to be "fine", yet it can take so much work. I realize that your feeling fine is an unstable state, that can change anytime and there are always worries in the background, BUT you are feeling better, you got a break--and I'm sure this will recharge you so much in so little time!
This great news will get my good mood going at least until the end of the week :) I'm sure you'll take advantage of these good days to be outside in the sunny spring London is blessing you with. On a side note: the photo of James and Julian is so nice. James looks so much like Julian, he's so cute--and handsome, of course, like his father :)
A hug.
Good morning, Mrs. Murdoch!
I read your last post over and over and empathized with your assessment of the damn lymph node, but I also felt your stong conviction of what was really important - 1. visualizing wellness. 2. Breathing fresh air, 3. Being in a beautiful setting, full of life, with the two most important parts of your life - James and Julian.
It is interesting to note what other things people find important - important enough to advertise. For your perusal, I give you a sign on Jost Van Dyke. Given the fact that it is a small and relatively primative British island, I note that ice is to be considered a high priority. This may be strictly for the "boaties" who arrive in flotillas. We all know the Brits drink their gin without ice. Water is a commodity we all use, and need, as it is the very essence of life. Without it even the gin won't keep us going. But, tell me, how mango chutney arrived as what could be construed a staple according to this sign? Might it be that the chicken, left unrefrigerated for too long, has gone off and been turned into a curry, thus necessitating the chutney as a condiment? Preserves? I guess it is the only way to dress up casava bread, Johnnie cake, dumb bread and the simplest scone. But, it is the basil that rocks me! Basil? A single herb worth advertising on a sign most definitely created by a graphic designer. Basil? Does everyone make spagetti sauce on Jost, or on every bareboat?
How much basil do you think the Ice House sells? More Basil than ice? Than water? Than mango chutney? Than marmalade? Next time I am on Jost, I am going to walk in back of the Custom's House in hopes of witnessing fields of basil! Do ya think?! In retrospect, I'll bet there is ganja planted in amongst the basil which serves as a red herring.
And so it goes - a look into what is important and where.
Keep walking in Holland Park. As the seasons peak and change, it will give you hours and days and weeks and months of pleasure, and it will be fun to watch James's cheeks turn tan with summer, apple-rosy with fall and bright red with the brisk snap of winter, only to begin the cycle again next spring! Visualize.
Save me some English spring! Will be comin' your way on the 15th of May! Hey! Hey! LSC
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Thoughts Before Bed.
Dear All,
Since my last post, I have had a series of mostly good days. Admittedly, despite a Round #6 which I believe to have won, the side effects still lingered for many days, coming in waves. It plays with your mind; one day you begin to feel better and think, "Great, the cloud is lifting, we're coming out of the tunnel", and the next you wake with nausea, aches and a general feeling of malaise and think, "I feel worse than yesterday...when will this ease up?" I guess that I still have not come to fully accept the ebb and flow, or the rollercoaster as I call it, that characterises this process and which reminds me, time and time again, that I should not predict, that I should not assume, that I should not expect. On Friday, for example, I took an unexpected nose dive. I got up feeling awful - mouth ulcers, nausea, deep fatigue, again that "unplugged" feeling, and very, very emotional. From one day to the next, boom! All day, I could not come out of it, and by the evening, I was not in good spirits. Chiara says that on those bad mid-cycle days, she can just tell the effects of chemo not only on my body, but on my personality - I am quiet, "absent", distant, closed, tearful... The next morning, my body felt completely different: it felt "normal" and energetic; my mind also felt completely different: it felt "lighter" and positive. It is scary how the rollercoaster can dip and soar so radically.
In that same vein, for the past couple of days, I have felt really, really well - I have not felt this fine in months, to be honest. Were it not for sensing the presence of my hard lymph node under my right armpit, and for the bald head that stares back at me in the mirror, I would think myself to be perfectly healthy. Oh, the lymph node, the damn lymph node.... it is my daily worry, admittedly, as my family can attest. Dr. Plowman assured me that it can do me no harm while having chemo, that it cannot spread its cells, and I do believe him. But it just isn't shrinking as one would hope, and that bothers the hell out of me. I know that the plan is to remove it eventually, so why should I care what it does, if it can't hurt me? Because I want it to respond better to treatment, because I see it as part of the cancer as a whole, as my visible indicator of my recovery. I tell myself that I give it too much importance - I know I give it too much weight. The tumor in my bosom, in contrast, has shrunk so dramatically. And that is how this cancer plays with my mind: the bosom shrinks majorly, the lymph node does not... aren't they one and the same cancer? And with that contrast, how can one imagine what is happening in my liver and bones...? But I stay positive, and focus my energies on the fact that my body is strong. And, similarly, I choose to believe that my body is focusing on what it needs to work on most and best, and that it knows what it is doing. And I believe that it is doing a fabulous job in this battle. But, I admit, that as I go about my day, the little ball under my arm pit that is my sick lymph node provides me with unwanted, constant, niggling reminders that, even on the best of my "well" days, I must never, for a minute, stop fighting. And I will win this fight. I am winning this fight. I focus, I visualise, I hope, and I fight, fight, fight.
And talking about being positive, and as I said earlier, I have had several days of feeling particularly well, and therefore I was able to enjoy being outdoors in the sunny weather that has finally graced London. So, on the theme of Spring that has been part of the last few posts on this blog, I have attached some pictures of Spring in my neck of the woods - these were taken on my walks through Holland Park this past weekend. It is a lovely park that is just a few minutes from my home. Spring has finally sprung, and it was wonderful to breathe the fresh air, feel the sun on my face, and see life in its many beautiful forms. And my body felt good. It belonged in the midst of all of that "life". I hope to take many more walks and spend more time outdoors, before Round #7 next week. It is good for the soul.
Good night to all, and love as always.
Since my last post, I have had a series of mostly good days. Admittedly, despite a Round #6 which I believe to have won, the side effects still lingered for many days, coming in waves. It plays with your mind; one day you begin to feel better and think, "Great, the cloud is lifting, we're coming out of the tunnel", and the next you wake with nausea, aches and a general feeling of malaise and think, "I feel worse than yesterday...when will this ease up?" I guess that I still have not come to fully accept the ebb and flow, or the rollercoaster as I call it, that characterises this process and which reminds me, time and time again, that I should not predict, that I should not assume, that I should not expect. On Friday, for example, I took an unexpected nose dive. I got up feeling awful - mouth ulcers, nausea, deep fatigue, again that "unplugged" feeling, and very, very emotional. From one day to the next, boom! All day, I could not come out of it, and by the evening, I was not in good spirits. Chiara says that on those bad mid-cycle days, she can just tell the effects of chemo not only on my body, but on my personality - I am quiet, "absent", distant, closed, tearful... The next morning, my body felt completely different: it felt "normal" and energetic; my mind also felt completely different: it felt "lighter" and positive. It is scary how the rollercoaster can dip and soar so radically.
In that same vein, for the past couple of days, I have felt really, really well - I have not felt this fine in months, to be honest. Were it not for sensing the presence of my hard lymph node under my right armpit, and for the bald head that stares back at me in the mirror, I would think myself to be perfectly healthy. Oh, the lymph node, the damn lymph node.... it is my daily worry, admittedly, as my family can attest. Dr. Plowman assured me that it can do me no harm while having chemo, that it cannot spread its cells, and I do believe him. But it just isn't shrinking as one would hope, and that bothers the hell out of me. I know that the plan is to remove it eventually, so why should I care what it does, if it can't hurt me? Because I want it to respond better to treatment, because I see it as part of the cancer as a whole, as my visible indicator of my recovery. I tell myself that I give it too much importance - I know I give it too much weight. The tumor in my bosom, in contrast, has shrunk so dramatically. And that is how this cancer plays with my mind: the bosom shrinks majorly, the lymph node does not... aren't they one and the same cancer? And with that contrast, how can one imagine what is happening in my liver and bones...? But I stay positive, and focus my energies on the fact that my body is strong. And, similarly, I choose to believe that my body is focusing on what it needs to work on most and best, and that it knows what it is doing. And I believe that it is doing a fabulous job in this battle. But, I admit, that as I go about my day, the little ball under my arm pit that is my sick lymph node provides me with unwanted, constant, niggling reminders that, even on the best of my "well" days, I must never, for a minute, stop fighting. And I will win this fight. I am winning this fight. I focus, I visualise, I hope, and I fight, fight, fight.
And talking about being positive, and as I said earlier, I have had several days of feeling particularly well, and therefore I was able to enjoy being outdoors in the sunny weather that has finally graced London. So, on the theme of Spring that has been part of the last few posts on this blog, I have attached some pictures of Spring in my neck of the woods - these were taken on my walks through Holland Park this past weekend. It is a lovely park that is just a few minutes from my home. Spring has finally sprung, and it was wonderful to breathe the fresh air, feel the sun on my face, and see life in its many beautiful forms. And my body felt good. It belonged in the midst of all of that "life". I hope to take many more walks and spend more time outdoors, before Round #7 next week. It is good for the soul.
Good night to all, and love as always.
Apple trees
Hi Panda,
Since last week I wanted to take a picture of the valley where I bike to go to work, just to show you the lines of apple trees in blossom all around the dike where the bike path runs. It was so beautiful last Thursday (last time I had the chance to bike), but I didn't have my camera with me and couldn't take a picture. This morning, when I came to work (by car) I could see from afar that the trees are now full of leaves and are starting to lose their flowers. What a pity! They are still beautiful, but they are losing that wonderful Spring touch that I wanted to share with you. Spring is moving so fast here. Considering that we've been under the rain since Friday, but with mild temperatures, you can imagine how fast the valley and the mountains around are becoming all green. I dedicate to you the happiness that this spectacular blooming of life gives me and I wish you to be able to feel the rejuvenating power of spring in your mind and body. I send you a picture of an apple tree in bloom that I downloaded off the internet. As soon as I get the chance to bike again, I'll send you "my" apple trees, if they are not past the spring phase and are already celebrating summer! A big hug.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Good Night My Friend
I agree with Alexis that the Bay Area is a great place to be at this time of year. I have not had the guts to swim in the Bay (cheers to Alexis) but spent most of the weekend near the water. I thought of you often and we made a sand angel just for you! We would love to show James the sand crabs, worms, and small fish in our little Alameda beach.
I am hoping that this week allows for quiet mornings with James and relief from the side effects. Your body is amazingly strong. You are amazingly strong.
Thank you for the updates.
Hugs,
Lisa H
I am hoping that this week allows for quiet mornings with James and relief from the side effects. Your body is amazingly strong. You are amazingly strong.
Thank you for the updates.
Hugs,
Lisa H
Danda! On the subject of skies which is one near to Alexis and my own heart, I provide clouds with silver linings. This was taken on Easter morning at about 7AM half way between St. Thomas and Jost. Chris had to pick up someone and return them to St. John and he asked if I would like to come along. I felt that Nature up front and personal might just be the best way of celebrating the day so dear to the hearts of all Christians. The breeze was blowing, the clougs scudding across the tops of the islands, an errant pelican flew by overhead. It was truly lovely. Chris turned to me and over the roar of the engine shouted " Mum, this is MY church!". I think he has something there - a cathedral of vaulted clouds, a baptismal font of cobalt seas, a nave of sunlight and an aps of islands. Can you see it? Blessings, LSC
We like to call this "connecting the dots!"
Good morning from sunny Sausalito, CA! What a glorious day it is here. Ironically I leave our blinds open on the weekends probably much to Jeff's dismay, but he seems to have adjusted as he is able to sleep right through the sunshine. Most people look at the weekend as their time to shut the world out and sleep in; I am quite the opposite. I leave the blinds open so the sun awakens me and I have the chance to look out the windows at first light and welcome the day. This morning was no exception. Clear blue skies had me up at the moment I opened my eyes. I guess I just don't want to waste a minute of the two days of freedom I am granted every week! The trials of the working class! ha!
Danda, I hope you were able to greet your day with blue skies in your mind and soul! I only wish you blue skies on your gray days!
As Giovanna put it in her last post, your fan base is growing! Since this is the case I thought I would take out a personal ad on you blog for all those looking for a companion.
DSSS- Desperately Seeking Stalwart Soldiers
Blogger aficionado seeks soldiers for war against cancer. Must be willing to share the battlefield with 32 to followers and countless additional snipers around the globe. Must possess positive attitude and willingness to wage war in the form of morale boosting blog posts, humorous anecdotal stories and photos/videos as a window to the outside world when low white blood cell counts keep the General (Danda, that is you!) indoors. If you are up for the challenge please email alexisrobinusvi@yahoo.com with exuberance and in turn you will be added to the blog roster and further instructions will follow.
Danda, all my best to you, James, Julian, Chiara, Anthony, Mum and Babbo-your soldiers on the front line!!
XOXO
Lex
Saturday, April 18, 2009
James' fan club
Hi Panda,
James is eight months old! Time surely passes quickly. And he's such a big boy, with his 98 percentile for height and 90 for weight! You and Julian must be proud of the good work you're doing with him!
Last week, I left the blog open on my computer in the office on my favorite picture of James (James and Joy) and when the receptionist from downstairs stepped in to bring mail, she happened to see it. She was mesmerized! She told me she had never seen such a beautiful baby and asked who he was. I told her she was looking at my nephew. It felt really good to say "my nephew", as if I had any doing in his existence and magnificent looks! Then she asked about his parents (she caught on that I can't take credit here!), I showed her your picture at the top of the blog ("what a beautiful cousin you have!") and one of Julian (the one that Eve posted some time ago). Her comment was, "He's handsome too!" with a tone that implied, "With such parents, no wonder he's such an amazing baby!". Then she asked to see more pictures of James, so I browsed the blog and showed her some more pictures, in particular my second favorite (James March 2009) and she was even more fascinated. One of these days I'll show her the giggling video, I'm sure she'll love it. Tell James that his fan club in Italy is growing!
On a different note, I liked the feel your last posts gave. I monitor the way you feel through your blog posts (like a "mood thermometer") and, as you know, mood is contagious. When I sense strength, determination, courage, some peace of mind in your words, I'm really happy for you and feel better at least the whole day I catch the post. Keep up the good work!
Hugs.
James is eight months old! Time surely passes quickly. And he's such a big boy, with his 98 percentile for height and 90 for weight! You and Julian must be proud of the good work you're doing with him!
Last week, I left the blog open on my computer in the office on my favorite picture of James (James and Joy) and when the receptionist from downstairs stepped in to bring mail, she happened to see it. She was mesmerized! She told me she had never seen such a beautiful baby and asked who he was. I told her she was looking at my nephew. It felt really good to say "my nephew", as if I had any doing in his existence and magnificent looks! Then she asked about his parents (she caught on that I can't take credit here!), I showed her your picture at the top of the blog ("what a beautiful cousin you have!") and one of Julian (the one that Eve posted some time ago). Her comment was, "He's handsome too!" with a tone that implied, "With such parents, no wonder he's such an amazing baby!". Then she asked to see more pictures of James, so I browsed the blog and showed her some more pictures, in particular my second favorite (James March 2009) and she was even more fascinated. One of these days I'll show her the giggling video, I'm sure she'll love it. Tell James that his fan club in Italy is growing!
On a different note, I liked the feel your last posts gave. I monitor the way you feel through your blog posts (like a "mood thermometer") and, as you know, mood is contagious. When I sense strength, determination, courage, some peace of mind in your words, I'm really happy for you and feel better at least the whole day I catch the post. Keep up the good work!
Hugs.
Friday, April 17, 2009
breaking the ice!
Danda, James is 8 months old already! From what I can tell they just get better with time so you are in for some good times! I am glad to see that you are emotionally making head way tackling the ups and downs of your treatment. It is a balancing act and surely you will fall off the beam sometimes, but you seem to be able to get back on it much easier these days. You are amazing~! don't give up! I know this is hard.
Humor?! Who wants humor? It is about all I can muster up right now given that I have spent the last two hours at my computer trying to figure out reasons customers returned my bedding in the month of march more so than they did last year and all I have been able to deduce is that they just don't like it! Talk about finding a needle in a haystack I give up!
First Bay swim of the season:
Jeff and I hosted a great brunch at our place on Easter Sunday. Jeff thought of it after the fact, but we were meant to host this holiday as long as we lived in our house--Easter on Easterby! It was meant to be! I've got to tell you as Summer is upon us, there is no where I would rather be than the Bay area. Wildflowers are in bloom, the water has warmed to 52 degrees and living in Marin you aren't hampered by the fog of San Francisco—life is good!
That same weekend I had my first swim in San Francisco Bay! I coaxed Jeff to come with. Of course he was getting over a cough so I felt badly asking him to come, but he seemed to be up for the challenge. I made him tea in a thermos so he could sip it to keep warm while I paddled from buoy to buoy. Of course it is not enough that I was jumping the in the Bay for the first time, I had to bike over the bridge to complicate matters! We biked over in the traffic of tourists crossing the bridge along with gusts that would cause you to stand still as you weaved around the pylons.
As we neared Aquatic Park I kept telling Jeff I thought this whole thing was a bad idea. It was cool, very breezy and if I was too cold when I got out of the water we would have to bike home. Playing the coach role he kept telling me it would be fine and we were not turning around. I needed that because I was really feeling like I should have brought my wetsuit. It is like a safety blanket! I never end up wearing it, but it is there just in case. But think about it, am I really ever going to get out of the water and try to stuff my wet self into neoprene?! Let's be realistic!
We arrived, I stripped down right as a team of Team in Training triathletes were coming out of the water all talking about how cold it was-must have been their first swim in the Bay based on their reactions. And without another thought I put my caps on and walked determined to the water like I did this all the time. With tourists snapping pictures I just walked in the water and thought to myself have I lost my mind?! Do I usually wear a wetsuit this early in the season?! What the heck am I doing, I am never going to make it to the first buoy and before you know it I was there (head still above water mind you). As I treaded water to get my bearings an older woman-let's say in her 70's elegantly breast stroked past me with her flowered swim cap-I might be making the flowered swim cap part up, but my body was in a state of shock so I was not in my right mind. I gurgled out to her, " Am I going to be ok?! Am I going to warm up?" Politely she replied, "You'll be fine. Start swimming." "Right." and down my head until my whole body was submerged in the icy waters. I spent the first five minutes fighting with my goggles as I tried to create a good suction as I knew I would never endure the swim with leaky goggles. Finally goggles were on and I was swimming.
Took me quite some time to settle into my rhythm, but I got there and it was great. It was windy that day so the rippled water broke over by arm as I stroked hard to keep on course. I call days like those washing machine days because I swear that is what it would feel like if you were on permanent press in the washing machine. Lots of bubbles and turbulence.
Despite everything I managed to swim the requisite mile and half in 45 minutes...just in time to get out before hypothermia set in! Chattering teeth and stumps for feet I mounted my bike and Jeff and I rode home! One step closer to the main event!
That same weekend I had my first swim in San Francisco Bay! I coaxed Jeff to come with. Of course he was getting over a cough so I felt badly asking him to come, but he seemed to be up for the challenge. I made him tea in a thermos so he could sip it to keep warm while I paddled from buoy to buoy. Of course it is not enough that I was jumping the in the Bay for the first time, I had to bike over the bridge to complicate matters! We biked over in the traffic of tourists crossing the bridge along with gusts that would cause you to stand still as you weaved around the pylons.
As we neared Aquatic Park I kept telling Jeff I thought this whole thing was a bad idea. It was cool, very breezy and if I was too cold when I got out of the water we would have to bike home. Playing the coach role he kept telling me it would be fine and we were not turning around. I needed that because I was really feeling like I should have brought my wetsuit. It is like a safety blanket! I never end up wearing it, but it is there just in case. But think about it, am I really ever going to get out of the water and try to stuff my wet self into neoprene?! Let's be realistic!
We arrived, I stripped down right as a team of Team in Training triathletes were coming out of the water all talking about how cold it was-must have been their first swim in the Bay based on their reactions. And without another thought I put my caps on and walked determined to the water like I did this all the time. With tourists snapping pictures I just walked in the water and thought to myself have I lost my mind?! Do I usually wear a wetsuit this early in the season?! What the heck am I doing, I am never going to make it to the first buoy and before you know it I was there (head still above water mind you). As I treaded water to get my bearings an older woman-let's say in her 70's elegantly breast stroked past me with her flowered swim cap-I might be making the flowered swim cap part up, but my body was in a state of shock so I was not in my right mind. I gurgled out to her, " Am I going to be ok?! Am I going to warm up?" Politely she replied, "You'll be fine. Start swimming." "Right." and down my head until my whole body was submerged in the icy waters. I spent the first five minutes fighting with my goggles as I tried to create a good suction as I knew I would never endure the swim with leaky goggles. Finally goggles were on and I was swimming.
Took me quite some time to settle into my rhythm, but I got there and it was great. It was windy that day so the rippled water broke over by arm as I stroked hard to keep on course. I call days like those washing machine days because I swear that is what it would feel like if you were on permanent press in the washing machine. Lots of bubbles and turbulence.
Despite everything I managed to swim the requisite mile and half in 45 minutes...just in time to get out before hypothermia set in! Chattering teeth and stumps for feet I mounted my bike and Jeff and I rode home! One step closer to the main event!
Danda, you are one step closer to what seems like your main event as well. Getting through your last chemo treatment will be one phase down. Although their will be more treatments and different obstacles in the next phases you should begin to see this as a major obstacle you have overcome! You have broken the ice so to say and are more prepared to the take the coming months in stride knowing you have come a long way from the first day your were diagnosed. Keep reminding yourself of how far you have come! I love you whole hearted!
Lex
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Morning Check-In
Dear All,
Today, James turns 8 months old - he is definitely crossing the invisible line that marks the transition from baby to boy. He was taken to the baby clinic last week by my mother, where she was told that he ranks at the 98th percentile for height and 90th percentile for weight! I have myself a little giant! Hard to believe that this was the skinny little infant who suffered severe reflux for weeks on end, braved an emergency ambulance ride after he stopped breathing, spent much of his first month in and out of the hospital, and pushed through hours of pain in his determination to drink his mother's milk. It is amazing what time can do, and how the body can not only heal but flourish. He is providing me with my own little role model, paving the perspective for my own recovery... His journey is my positive lesson for the day.
So, he and I are sitting here, watching Bob the Builder on the BBC, in the quiet of the early morning - he has had his porridge and milk, I have had my supplements and chai tea, while Julian is still asleep, having taken on the responsibility of the usual tiring late night feed that allows me to go to bed earlier, by 9pm. I am feeling OK, but still far from 100% - yesterday I took a big dip (seems to happen at this point in every cycle) where the nausea returned for a while, and my body felt suddenly very depleted again (that unplugged sensation) - it's those very low blood cell counts making themselves felt, not to mention the impact of the bone marrow boosting shots I have to take every day, and by the afternoon I really couldn't have walked for more than a block. So I rested, and today will be more of the same. I feel the beginnings of the chemo side effects on my mood, but I am more prepared this time around to handle it, and to not let it scare me. I long to be able to do more exercise, to be more active, get those endorphins going, but I need to be patient (not my forte!) - I have to wait until I finish this intensive chemo phase, and see how the tablets/injections impact my sense of deep fatigue. My body at the moment is simply focusing on staying as strong as it can. So the goal remains to keep the mind active "in the moment". Not a small feat! Just "being" is truly an art form!
Hope you all have a good start to your days. The BBC headlines are on - James and I always watch them, sharing in conversation on current events.... his views are less clear, but I swear he has an opinion... Hugs.
Today, James turns 8 months old - he is definitely crossing the invisible line that marks the transition from baby to boy. He was taken to the baby clinic last week by my mother, where she was told that he ranks at the 98th percentile for height and 90th percentile for weight! I have myself a little giant! Hard to believe that this was the skinny little infant who suffered severe reflux for weeks on end, braved an emergency ambulance ride after he stopped breathing, spent much of his first month in and out of the hospital, and pushed through hours of pain in his determination to drink his mother's milk. It is amazing what time can do, and how the body can not only heal but flourish. He is providing me with my own little role model, paving the perspective for my own recovery... His journey is my positive lesson for the day.
So, he and I are sitting here, watching Bob the Builder on the BBC, in the quiet of the early morning - he has had his porridge and milk, I have had my supplements and chai tea, while Julian is still asleep, having taken on the responsibility of the usual tiring late night feed that allows me to go to bed earlier, by 9pm. I am feeling OK, but still far from 100% - yesterday I took a big dip (seems to happen at this point in every cycle) where the nausea returned for a while, and my body felt suddenly very depleted again (that unplugged sensation) - it's those very low blood cell counts making themselves felt, not to mention the impact of the bone marrow boosting shots I have to take every day, and by the afternoon I really couldn't have walked for more than a block. So I rested, and today will be more of the same. I feel the beginnings of the chemo side effects on my mood, but I am more prepared this time around to handle it, and to not let it scare me. I long to be able to do more exercise, to be more active, get those endorphins going, but I need to be patient (not my forte!) - I have to wait until I finish this intensive chemo phase, and see how the tablets/injections impact my sense of deep fatigue. My body at the moment is simply focusing on staying as strong as it can. So the goal remains to keep the mind active "in the moment". Not a small feat! Just "being" is truly an art form!
Hope you all have a good start to your days. The BBC headlines are on - James and I always watch them, sharing in conversation on current events.... his views are less clear, but I swear he has an opinion... Hugs.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Chrissy, I love hearing about the childhood memories as I know Danda does. Danda, you know that you are the keeper of family history! Mom, I think Chrissy is right about the Great Dane. Do tell everyone the story about Gran flying into St. Thomas with the dog. Danda, this one will have you in stitches if you haven't already. Chrissy was definitely right, our family has always been a little "different" but then again that is what makes us so much to be around. Right?!
Got to watch the video of James in his bath. The repition of laughter is enough to draw anyone out of bed. I am so glad he is happy and in turn that makes you happy!
Much Love,
Lex
Got to watch the video of James in his bath. The repition of laughter is enough to draw anyone out of bed. I am so glad he is happy and in turn that makes you happy!
Much Love,
Lex
Another Round Down
Hello Alex,
I am sure that I am not alone in the sense of relief I felt when I read your last update. I am glad that the "darker" days of Round 6 are behind you and hope that the sun is starting to shine on your side of the pond as it is here in San Francisco. This really is like a marathon, with all the emotional, psychological, and physical aspects of the most difficult of courses (perhaps with some extra steep curves and hills). Unfortunately, you did not get to pick the date, select the location, shop for just the right shoes, or even train for months with a team of experts. In fact, you just had to start running, trusting that you could endure all the miles ahead, that you had the right gear, and the right support crew. Not only are you keeping the right pace, you are inspiring lots of people along the way and reminding us that there is so much life to live even in the darkest of moments. For now - I hope you get a moment to rest your feet and cruise for a bit. I love you very much
Lisa H
I am sure that I am not alone in the sense of relief I felt when I read your last update. I am glad that the "darker" days of Round 6 are behind you and hope that the sun is starting to shine on your side of the pond as it is here in San Francisco. This really is like a marathon, with all the emotional, psychological, and physical aspects of the most difficult of courses (perhaps with some extra steep curves and hills). Unfortunately, you did not get to pick the date, select the location, shop for just the right shoes, or even train for months with a team of experts. In fact, you just had to start running, trusting that you could endure all the miles ahead, that you had the right gear, and the right support crew. Not only are you keeping the right pace, you are inspiring lots of people along the way and reminding us that there is so much life to live even in the darkest of moments. For now - I hope you get a moment to rest your feet and cruise for a bit. I love you very much
Lisa H
Childhood Memories
Danda, it is now close to a week since the last chemo round. I have been thinking of you many times each day. Like Alexis, thoughts of you spur me to exercise a little longer, push myself farther, banish all negative thoughts, forget self-absorbed worries, and send only positive healing images across the Atlantic. I hope the angels have been watching over you as you have been sleeping off the invasion of the chemicals.
So I said I would tell you a few tales about our charmed childhoods in West Hartford—mine, your mother’s, and Lisa’s. The others were there too, but way in the background. Sorry, Geoff. You play a very important part in the Concord phase.
Memory #1: turning on “The Nutcracker Suite” on the record player, holding onto the barre that ran around the huge attic dance studio, pointing our toes as much as possible, and posturing as ballerinas, sometimes mincing, other times hurling ourselves around the room like whirling dervishes. It felt so “professional.” George Ballanchine, aren’t you sorry you missed it?
Memory #2: the “slide” in the yard and the terror it engendered in me. Two parallel inclined metal poles about a foot apart or maybe closer but it felt like a foot: our legs straddled the poles with our little bottoms in the gap between (never in a skirt, mind you) and “let ‘er rip!” I always worried I’d fall in between the poles onto my back and be a quadripelegic; I was scared of the “exercise” yet scared of being labeled a sissy if I refused to “slide.” So much ambivalence at such an early age (8-11)!
Memory #3: We had dogs at our house; your mother’s family had at least one cat (maybe dogs too? I have a vague sense of a Great Dane in there somewhere…). Dogs were familiar; cats were mysterious and unpredictable. We went to see the movie “King Solomon’s Mines,” and I came back for a sleepover with a head swimming with macabre images of African caves and wild animals. In the middle of the night, the cat jumped up and landed on top of me. I must have shot up out of my covers like a rocket, screaming about the tiger that was attacking me and calling for Aunt Bessie to come save me.
Last memory: a Halloween at the Smith’s. Lots of grisly sensations like slimy grape eye-balls and cold spaghetti entrails, but the most terrifying moment was opening the basement utility closet door and having Uncle Rob lurch out as the ghost of Oglethorpe. Hunhh? Where did that come from? Forever in my mind the two of them are paired, even though I have long since forgotten how he looked or what he did. Lisa, did that happen?
OK so the first memory is benign, but the other three are fraught with fear. Why the attraction to this house of horrors and the people in it, you might ask? Because it was “different” there, so exciting, a test of my courage, a test of my flexibility, lots of laughter after the heart-pounding moments, spacious high-ceilinged rooms, style in the furnishings and the art work, and the fun of childhood with my cousins before we became scattered to other places.
To compare the foregoing to your predicament is too far-fetched. However, what you are going through is so scary, so heart-stopping, as chilling as being trapped in a cave with no way out. Your resolve, will power, courage, flexibility are all being tested to the max. But you continue to battle back and you WILL find your way to the sunlight and the freedom and you HAVE laughed at the sounds of your little one burbling in his bath. You have my dear cousins—one by your side and the other two metaphorically there sustaining you—and your own dear cousins and family members and friends all over the globe supporting you. We’re NOT going to let you fall through the gap.
I wrote this before your latest post. Now after reading it, Alessandra, I am positively exultant! Yippee!!! I even put on the “Hallelujah Chorus” in honor of you and Handel!!! I’m breathing normally again. Praise be to God and your mental audacity and chemistry and your doctor.
So I said I would tell you a few tales about our charmed childhoods in West Hartford—mine, your mother’s, and Lisa’s. The others were there too, but way in the background. Sorry, Geoff. You play a very important part in the Concord phase.
Memory #1: turning on “The Nutcracker Suite” on the record player, holding onto the barre that ran around the huge attic dance studio, pointing our toes as much as possible, and posturing as ballerinas, sometimes mincing, other times hurling ourselves around the room like whirling dervishes. It felt so “professional.” George Ballanchine, aren’t you sorry you missed it?
Memory #2: the “slide” in the yard and the terror it engendered in me. Two parallel inclined metal poles about a foot apart or maybe closer but it felt like a foot: our legs straddled the poles with our little bottoms in the gap between (never in a skirt, mind you) and “let ‘er rip!” I always worried I’d fall in between the poles onto my back and be a quadripelegic; I was scared of the “exercise” yet scared of being labeled a sissy if I refused to “slide.” So much ambivalence at such an early age (8-11)!
Memory #3: We had dogs at our house; your mother’s family had at least one cat (maybe dogs too? I have a vague sense of a Great Dane in there somewhere…). Dogs were familiar; cats were mysterious and unpredictable. We went to see the movie “King Solomon’s Mines,” and I came back for a sleepover with a head swimming with macabre images of African caves and wild animals. In the middle of the night, the cat jumped up and landed on top of me. I must have shot up out of my covers like a rocket, screaming about the tiger that was attacking me and calling for Aunt Bessie to come save me.
Last memory: a Halloween at the Smith’s. Lots of grisly sensations like slimy grape eye-balls and cold spaghetti entrails, but the most terrifying moment was opening the basement utility closet door and having Uncle Rob lurch out as the ghost of Oglethorpe. Hunhh? Where did that come from? Forever in my mind the two of them are paired, even though I have long since forgotten how he looked or what he did. Lisa, did that happen?
OK so the first memory is benign, but the other three are fraught with fear. Why the attraction to this house of horrors and the people in it, you might ask? Because it was “different” there, so exciting, a test of my courage, a test of my flexibility, lots of laughter after the heart-pounding moments, spacious high-ceilinged rooms, style in the furnishings and the art work, and the fun of childhood with my cousins before we became scattered to other places.
To compare the foregoing to your predicament is too far-fetched. However, what you are going through is so scary, so heart-stopping, as chilling as being trapped in a cave with no way out. Your resolve, will power, courage, flexibility are all being tested to the max. But you continue to battle back and you WILL find your way to the sunlight and the freedom and you HAVE laughed at the sounds of your little one burbling in his bath. You have my dear cousins—one by your side and the other two metaphorically there sustaining you—and your own dear cousins and family members and friends all over the globe supporting you. We’re NOT going to let you fall through the gap.
I wrote this before your latest post. Now after reading it, Alessandra, I am positively exultant! Yippee!!! I even put on the “Hallelujah Chorus” in honor of you and Handel!!! I’m breathing normally again. Praise be to God and your mental audacity and chemistry and your doctor.
light, light, light everywhere!
Danda,
WAHOO!! HIGH FIVE!! BEAR HUG!!
I am certain that sweet relief is what we are feeling right now reading your words. Everyone keeps telling you to let go of your control, but I think you have found control in the most challenging of times and in just the right context. I am SO proud of you for engaging your mind and talking your body through the days after treatment. You felt empowered and that is huge! Recognize how amazing that feeling is to be in control of your mind and thus in control of your body.
I know it hurt as you said and was uncomfortable and you were weak and tired-this will not change given your course of treatment, but the fact that you can overcome tells me you have the fight still in you.
You are an inspiration, listen to that music and take yourself to that happy place! I can't wait to watch the little video of James tonight! Very impressed you got the video loaded on the blog-that is a first!
The painting above is currently on my desktop encouraging me as I prepared last weekend to jump into the Bay for my first open water swim of the season. More on that later. It now makes me think of you and how you must feel-pushing off the wall of the pool and swimming weightlessly to the surface for some air.
All my love,
Alexis
And One More Thing....
Dear All,
One more thing I forgot to say... in the darker Round #6 moments, there was nothing more morale boosting that playing this video in my head. This is of James taking a bath, with our wonderful nanny, Kelly. I know I am biased, but the giggle is just fabulous....
And We Have a Winner.
Dear All,
I am up, I am dressed, I have discarded the heavy "chemo coat" that enfolds me and weighs me down every cycle... I sit here with relief that yet another round has been overcome and that, while the side effects are still with me, they are fading with every day, and I am still standing.
This Round #6 felt different than the others. Admittedly, I dreaded this cycle terribly - that anxious anticipation of knowing what is to come, of waiting for the poison to begin to make its presence felt under my skin, of preparing myself for the long hours of curling up in a ball under the covers and braving the quiet storm within, of accepting the fact that my precious moments with James would be fewer for a little while. I battled with the word "cumulative" - my friend in knowing that the power of this medicine with every hit was all the stronger to heal me, my foe in knowing that in that very power it had that potential to simultaneously hurt me more. And I hung on the words "Round #6" - when first diagnosed, this had been proposed as the end of the chemo, a major turning point,... now it marked one of a series of consecutive stepping stones in an ongoing fight that was far from over. So, yes, while I was as ready as I ever could be when I walked into the Chemo Day Unit last Wednesday, while my attitude was shouting "beat the f@#*!r" from every pore, I took my seat and was hooked up with trepidation and a sense of heaviness.
And again, this Round #6 felt different than the others. I chalk it up to the mind. Maybe I had so anticipated the physical hit of this round that, unconsciously, I had prepped myself all the more to rely on my mind to get me through. Who knows...? As with all cycles, I did curl up in a ball under the covers for what felt like an eternity, I did drift in and out of sleep as the feeling of being "unplugged" took hold for several days, I did feel the side effects make their mark one by one. But I was more "present" in the battle. My mind did not adopt that foetal position, my mind did not unplug, my mind took on the side effects and said, "I can do this". I visualized like never before - the medicine cleaning up the "dirty patches" on my body, washing the shadows with light. My healthy, pink and vibrant cells joining hands and surrounding the less healthy ones in a circle and, in a group hug, squeezing the illness away with a "Pop"!, followed by a loud group cheer. James kicking away any "pebbles" in my body with his strong, chubby feet. Friends and family helping me to "spring clean" the parts of me that were dark and dusty, using cloths and hoovers, and mops, and sanders. Light, light, light everywhere. I talked to my body, thanking it quietly for braving the storm and being so strong - my limbs, my heart, my kidneys, my stomach, my lungs, my liver... I can still feel what remains of the tumors in my breast and in my lymph node, both of which swelled and throbbed in pain the days after chemo... rather than be frightened by it, I gave those parts many pep talks from under the covers, "Come on body, you can do this... the medicine is doing its part to fight, but give it a hand, let's help it shrink things. You can do this. I am proud of you. I know it's hard, but you can do this. There's no room for the cancer anymore, see?" ... and with every twinge, I would visualize the tumors give up, let go, get smaller. Call me crazy, but it felt good to be so mentally present, even all the while that my body just seemed to want to escape from the hell it was going through. And I viscerally felt that I was winning, that's the even crazier part. I can't put it into words - I just knew that I was winning this round hands down. And in the midst of feeling like absolute shit, I felt great. And in the midst of the anxiety and fear that visit me as regular reminders of my battle, I felt a peace that I have not felt in a long time. A turning point, I guess: I believed in my believing that I will win.
So, again, Round #6 has been different than the others. I pushed myself to get out of bed more, I managed to eat and drink more. I dreamed more of the future, and all the things I want to do and share with you all. I felt my body rebound more readily. I managed to spend more time with James. And despite the "cumulative", despite the "there is still yet another round, and then more chemo after that", despite the hurdles that still seem to tower over me in a seemingly endless succession and the deep breaths I still need to take for months to come, I feel I can do this.
And you know what was one of the more striking moments to me of this round? While sitting in the Chemo Day Unit, a woman walked in to get her scheduled immune boosting shot (she is a lovely lady in her 50's, just exudes kindness), and mentioned to the nurse. "It's been a disappointing morning - my doctor told me that my tumor has not shrunk at all after my 6 cycles. It hasn't grown, but it hasn't shrunk". And, as I listened, I felt lucky. Lucky! A word that I would never have associated with this stage in the fight. But I did. I felt lucky. And grateful. And I held onto that, in the days that followed.
I have had the soundtrack of "The Prince of Tides" playing in the background as I have typed. It is one of my most favourite pieces of music. The section entitled "End Credits" is for me "hope" in music form - it just carries the soul. The whole album just speaks to me - it always has, since I first bought it as a teenager.
I must go and lie down for a bit. I hope that you all had a lovely Easter, and thank you for all of your messages, as always... every single one of them. They made Round #6 be all that more of a victory for me. And Alexis - know that I am your biggest fan, and that I think you are simply too wonderful for words.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Imagery
Ever since your aunt's post on Shackleton, I have not been able to get the image of that journey out of my mind. Specifically, its relevance to your journey. He HAD to have had moments of tremendous fear or even anger, but he persevered in what must have been absolute misery. I so see you as Shackleton - incredibly strong, physically and emotionally, and while you may be pushed to your limit, you cannot be pushed beyond and you will succeed in this journey, this fight. Your silence suggests to me that right now you are on one of the harder, windier, pushes, but I am no less confident at your success.
And, in beautiful contrast to that image was my chance today to hold a 25-hour-old baby - the new daughter of my postdoc, Sabrina, who had been in labor Thursday to Sunday. An Easter baby. And while I'm not big on religion, I'm huge on Spring, and I see life springing up all over Massachusetts. I'm looking forward to seeing picture of you, Julian, and James dyeing eggs, with James fully dipping his hands in the dye, like Elias. His own personal, portable Easter eggs.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Howard's End
I think Mom might be on to something there! Danda, if ever there was someone to channel it is your grandmothers! Both alive and in heaven watching over you they are two of the strongest women I know. They are proof that your genes are strong and can endure! You can too for you are the grandmother we will all look out years from now and tell James' offspring what a fighter you are! Mary, I love that comic of the Easter bunny. Every year it comes around and every year I giggle just the same, I'd love to meet the artist! Nora, I think your supernova photo is miraculous. I think someone is trying to tell us something if the supernova kept popping up instead of the hummingbird! I love it! Danda, I know you are looking for something to take your mind far away from reality and I think Nora's suggestion of Three Cups of Tea is a brilliant one. It is an inspiring story to say the least! And if you want an endurance read (no pun intended!) Shackleton is just the thing. Our group leader on one of my Outward Bound trips used to read us passages from the novel at night at the end of a hard day when we all felt like giving up. Those passages sure did put us in our places as we crawled into our down LL Bean sleeping bags. I can't say I would have had the guts to skin a wild animal and sleep in its skin for warmth in the snow or maybe I would have! It is amazing what we will do when it is a matter of survival! Second cup of coffee. I cherish the mornings when everything is still quiet and peaceful so I will write some more as I sit looking out at Mount Tam in the distance on what will become a perfect blue sky day in Marin. Lisa, across the Bay in Alameda, knows what I am talking about! Vicki, this part of the post goes out to you because I know you can fully appreciate this experience. Yesterday afternoon on a crisp Spring afternoon I went for my usual run on what I call my Patagonia commercial run. Once up the hill from the main road the trail winds through a valley in the "V" of the landscape you hit Tennessee Valley Beach. If I could claim it as the 8th Natural Wonder of the World I would! I was determined this weekend to hit my requisite 8 mile mark for my triathlon so I planned to run to the beach and back and then head out on a three mile out and back once back on the main road. But I knew full well that the temptation to quit once my knees began to give out would be too great and I would head for home. So instead I ran back to the top of the hill and began the descent to the beach again. That would give me my extra three miles I needed and with the scenery the option was much more attractive. By this point I had hit my stride and legs loosened. I ran by a white haired man who in an English lilt said, "Wait a minute, I am not supposed to be passed by a girl." I laughed and slowed my cadence. He continued, "But I am 75 so I guess I can accept it." I laughed again and said, "You are a better runner than I if you are running at your age". He said, "Stick with it. Never give up running." I told him, "I already have knee aches and I am half your age. It would be a miracle if I am running at your age." The banter continued and I told him I would see him at the turnaround. He said, "I will wait for you to pass me." At the turnaround I saw him again. I headed to the beach and he headed up the hill I had just come down. "Shit," I thought to myself. He is going to run up that hi. Unbelievable! This is a man with a strong resolve! I ran quickly to the beach and turned around in hopes of catching up to my English compatriot. Around each bend I looked for him, but he was not in sight. Finally on the last long uphill straightaway I saw him, white baseball hat, blue sweatshirt-white polo shirt peeking out. I ran my hardest to try and catch him before the parking lot, but was unable to. Once at the top he stopped and turned, looking for me no doubt. I yelled out to him,"Boy, you don't give a girl much of a chance to catch up, let alone pass you." He said, "I kept waiting for you to run by." I stopped my run to introduce myself and tell him how impressive he was and that I could only hope to be running as strongly as he does at his age. He told me, if you don't slow down and take care of those knees you won't be. He said that he was concerned that I already had knee pain and then his age kicked in. He told me that my generation is so busy outdoing one another and overachieving that we burn out. He told me wouldn't you rather run three times a week for the rest of your life then run a couple of marathons and never be able to run again. I told him he was absolutely right. He sympathized, I know the will to want to run further and longer, it is an adrenaline high. He knew how hard it was to push through those miles and then look back and feel a sense of accomplishment. But he also said it is just as hard to hold yourself back and realize that running for the long haul is a lot more difficult both mentally and physically than cramming it all into one all out push. Endurance can mean so many things I thought! He ended our conversation asking, "What did Robert Bernard Shaw say?" Ummm, I thought, Robert Bernard Shaw, sounds like an adventurer, emmm, or maybe a writer, actor?! I must have looked dumbfounded! "Ahhh, yes...youth is wasted on the young." I laughed. Howard, was this angel's name. Howard is omnipotent! We shook hands and I told him I would run alongside him anytime and would look for him on my Friday runs in Tennessee Valley. I started back down the hill towards the main road and he honked and waved as he drove by. Talk about adding a spring to my step. Vicki, you are the family's Howard-take a run through Kensington Garden. Make it short and sweet and it will last forever! xoxo, Lex
Friday, April 10, 2009
ENDURANCE
Dearest Danda - I just finished reading some 700 pages of SHACKLETON by Roland Huntford. I have wallowed in many accounts of Sir Ernest's incredible adventures, and I marvel at his singular focus and tenacity. He was a man of many facets, not all perfect. The book is a remarkably well-researched portrait of the diamond-bright makeup of the man. It is safe to say that his accomplishments were mind-boggling! When his ship was crushed in the Antarctic, he was forced to go overland and then by sea, leaving some of his compliment ashore on Elephant island with the sure and certain admonition that they would be rescued; then setting sail in a 22ft boat with a small group through gales and sleet and snow and ice to a rocky beachhead on S. Georgia Island, thence, as a party of three, on makeshift snowshoes, heading over ragged, icy mountains to a whaling station that they knew existed but had no maps to guide their course, he believed he would survive along with all his men. My God, what a feat!Perhaps, it would be fair to assume that more than luck and bravado played a hand in his ultimate success. In his book called SOUTH he writes,
I have no doubt that Providence guided us, not only across the snowfields, but across the storm-white sea that separated Elephant Island from our landing place on South Georgia. I know that during that long and racking march of 36 hours over the unamed mountains and glaciers of South Georgia it seemed to me often that we were four not three.
He further writes that Worsley, one of his team, also said "Boss, I had a curious feeling on the march that there was another person with us".
Crean, the third member of the party, confessed to the same idea.
At this special Easter time, I think one might hope that there may indeed be a "second" person guiding you through your journey. I believe there is.
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