Chemo update and Happy New Year (29 Dec 2006)

Dearest All,

As 2006 draws to a close I want to take this opportunity to tell you a bit about what's been going on here and bring you a little holiday cheer…ok, who am I kidding, this is a cancer update! (But one with a happy ending so far)

As many of you have pointed out, the blog continues to show wet pictures of Lucas since September. I know this is cruel and unusual, not just to the poor creature, but to many of you; sadly I really have no good excuse other than "I've been having a little chemo"…hasn't gotten me out of any speeding tickets, but hopefully will allay your fury and get me out of Jury duty in Santa Clara County—got summoned this week! For now, this update will have to suffice until I am able to finish and upload a more comprehensive narrative detailing the joys of Cancer treatment.

Speaking of silver linings, one of the most remarkable things about this process has been the opportunity to learn how to receive and appreciate help, and experience first hand, what amazing people I am surrounded with. As many of you may know, I had a double mastectomy in August and by the end of September my mother had already gone home. I started chemo on October 2^nd and have since relied entirely on a vast network of friends in the Bay Area to get me through it.

My colleagues and friends at Google have dutifully delivered lovingly prepared meals by the kitchen staff every day since August and through all of chemo. I should mention that some of them have waited months in line to make such deliveries as apparently I've become a hot excuse to get out of meetings :) Others have offered themselves and their parents to drive me to and from chemo infusions and follow-up doctors' visits. Some have volunteered to spend key nights with me each chemo cycle to make sure I have someone in the house should I need help, medical attention, water, a laugh or just some company. The Gray's Anatomy viewing club has been a roaring success offering up weekly McDreamy-Steamy sessions and even an excuse for a chocolate fest when the ban on cocoa products was finally lifted by the docs on Nov. 16^th.

Little things from weekly cards with encouraging messages and hilarious tag lines, to a brand new pill box that actually fits all the supplements I'm on, a free subscription to NetFlix, weekly help with my garbage and recycling, Lucas bathing, head shaving in solidarity, unending errand running—especially to get Pedialyte and other bland foods, and finally, endless rides to various places and gatherings have made these last few months bearable and in some cases even enjoyable. I have been overwhelmed and immeasurably thankful for the vast show of support and love I've received. But most importantly, while learning to receive unconditional help gracefully, I have also had brazenly honest and profound conversations with many of these people, and have gotten to know them in a way I think our normal day-to-day circumstances never allowed before. Somehow, cancer destroyed a wall around us and allowed all of us to be real in a way I've seldom experienced before, but have the joy to embrace daily now.

But not everything has been rosy—just in case you thought this was turning into a Hallmark moment. Cancer treatment in general, and chemo in particular, can be summed up as a tedious and repetitive test of one's will to endure pain, discomfort and, unexpected and profoundly disconcerting side effects, with the hope that you'll be rid of every last evil cell and come out the other side alive.

I have lost my hair pretty much everywhere, including inside of my nose which irritates my sinuses and has thrown me into a permanent state of sneezing, YET I am still shaving my legs! I know, this proves that g-d cannot possibly be a woman, I'm most disappointed. On the up-side, I have managed to keep most of my eyebrows and about 30% of my eyelashes. Since chemo kills all rapidly dividing cells in your body—cancerous or not—I have also lost all the lining in my mouth and stomach rendering me almost incapable of digesting a raw vegetable or any kind of spiced food without great pain and other unspeakable side effects that I'll spear you. As a consequence, I have lived on a very bland and starch/dairy laden diet that has made me GAIN rather than lose weight on chemo. Yes, you heard it, I managed to PLUMP up…I complained to the doc and he almost killed me as this is a very desirable outcome—except when you are the one logging the outcome poundage around…sigh.

The first set of chemo drugs made me nauseous 24-7, but thankfully the latest set simply give me lots of pain and hot-flashes. Yes ladies, if you've ever made fun of your mom, aunt, grandma, or random stranger reaching for anything in sight to fan herself, please say a little prayer to yourselves that you'll actually have to wait until menopause to experience your body's amazing ability to make you think you are going to actually combust, and then make you sweat uncontrollably. The more chemo I get, the more often hot-flashes come, and of late they've been happening mostly in the middle of the night, which happily interrupt my sleep regularly. Oh how I wish there was a better way to target and kill only cancer cells in the body instead of putting patients through all this hell—it's like using a nuclear blast to kill a mosquito, it also obliterates and contaminates everything within a 500 mile radius.

The good news is that chemo is almost done. I have just completed my 7^th infusion and on January 9^th will go in for the last one. After that, I will take some time to retreat and heal in preparation for 6 weeks of daily radiation. Following the nuke fest, two more surgeries await. But I am taking this one step at a time, one day at a time. Chemo battle is almost over, and I am halfway through the Cancer war with relatively few casualties—unless you count hair strands individually. I have been lucky to have the support of my friends, family and work to allow me to take the time I need to heal. My body has taken a beating, but my spirit remains strong. Mostly, I've learned to appreciate the present more, as it's become increasingly clear to me that's all we really have.

I want to thank all of you for your support—whatever shape it's taken—and wish you the kind of love and encouragement I've felt this year to overcome any challenges you may face in 2007. Remember to look around and recognized how loved you are, tell others how much you love them, go out there, kick ass, and go for what you REALLY want—life's too short not to play hard!

Lots of love, health and happiness in the New Year!

Many hugs,
Paola