Excursion to the Volcano and Back

The wheels came off the bus last week as Friday came and I had significant congestion preventing me from finishing off Cycle 4 of the chemo. The thing that was so frustrating is that I had been completely isolating until Thursday, when I felt well enough to do the entire 3.35 mile loop of the Reservoir with my brother Don. Later that afternoon, I felt a cold coming on and by bedtime, I knew I’d have to call and narc on myself the next morning before going to complete the chemo. Which is what I did. Postponed until Monday. This has nothing to do with anything I picked up from my brother, but just the fact that this immuno compromise situation is real. In the past, I would have viewed my positive COVID condition a reason for masking to protect others. Even with Saturday morning’s negative test, I realize that I need to not go out as frequently to protect myself, a fact my friends and family may have been subtly and not so subtly hinting at over the past several months.

Friday night, still feeling cold-like symptoms as I prepared for bed, between disrobing and putting on my Christmas nightie, I caught sight of myself in my sixties birthday suit in the bathroom mirror and came up with a lot of feels. The accumulated loneliness from my COVID isolation, along with the complete loss of compassion for my current physical self made me sit down on the chair and have a big ugly self-pitying cry.

In these posts, I’ve tried to convey that I’m Living in between these treatments, but thought it only fair to share this dark night of the soul moment. No matter how positive one is, there are moments of self-doubt that emerge.

Fortunately, these are few and far between, and Saturday morning I woke refreshed and with a perhaps contrived sense of perspective about the temporary nature of what I’m going through, restored compassion, and the more cheering image of a Fernando Botero firmly in mind. After searching the interwebs, this image I came up with made me feel better about my ugly cry Friday night and I also thought the title fitting.

Sunday I’d booked a few things to do – lunch with my friend Rob, and an appearance at the 13th Annual Jingle Bowl. I had the Monday chemo and was feeling better. After strong encouragement from members of my Maoi, (see Dan Buettner’s Power Nine principals from his Blue Zones research here) I was encouraged to cancel in person participation to protect my health for Monday. If you haven’t watched the amazing program on Netflix about the Blue Zones, here’s a link and you should check it out.

I canceled on Rob (sorry Rob) and at the appropriate time, appeared on FaceTime with the participants of Jingle Bowl 13. Which was the perfect answer to avoiding germs and sapping my energy.

In bed by 9:00PM, I awoke ready for my chemo completion on Monday. For some reason, this fourth infusion had taken on monstrous import and completing it yesterday was so important for me mentally and spiritually (as well as, obviously, physically).

Going forward, or back from the edge of the volcano, I’m practicing more self compassion. I asked the doctor yesterday, “Why aren’t I losing weight like everyone else does during chemo?” And yes, I see all the completely inappropriate facets of that questions – body shaming, vanity, enormous egoic activity – and there was a simple answer. Steroids. Of course – every time you get chemo you get the pre-game coctail of steroids, anti-emetic medication which in my case has been very effective, Pepcid and the Benedryl. All of which have made the recovery from each cycle possible and tolerable. Given my previous level of activity, he also kindly suggested that after the chemo is done, I would be able to return to my previous shape. From your mouth….

I just want to take a moment to thank all of the people both in my Maoi and in my extended circle who have been so supportive at every step of this process. I’m going to do it silently without naming names because I know in my less keen mental state which I’m conveniently blaming on the chemo right now, I will invariably forget someone. I hold you individually precious in my heart and brain, and collectively miraculous. Thank you for the rides, the check-ins by text and email and zoom. It has been the absolute upside to the big C.

In celebration of the holidays, I successfully erected my Christmas tree and got the old Santa Hat up on my Georgia O’Keeffe inspired anniversary present from my darling Jimmie. I’m looking forward to getting some packages out in the mail and receiving Bob’s visit next week with so much joy and gratitude. Life is definitely good on the other side of the volcano.