I truly believe that being able to anticipate, prepare and control the things that I can has made a world of difference. Plus, the chemo is working. I know it. With less cancerous cells inside me, my body has a better chance to fight. Sucking on those ice chips during my infusion was the best advice Dr. Dailey ever could have given. I can't wait to gush about it to him tomorrow and encourage him to put his recommendation in flashing, neon lights in the Center's chemo living room: "AVOID MOUTH SORES: SUCK ON ICE CHIPS"
I've also become extremely focused on loading my body with good stuff. I have powered down quite a stockpile of raw, antioxidant rich foods. In one week I've eaten one quart of strawberries, one pint of blueberries, one bunch of bananas, a quart of organic banilla yogurt, one box of granola, one pound of spinach, two cucumbers, a half-pound of baby carrots, a head of broccoli and one of cauliflower, all by myself. Yesterday alone I drank 72 ounces of water, half a pitcher of "meditative mind" iced tea, polished off a container of 100% grape Juicy Juice and two glasses of chocolate soy milk. This is what I call disease-fighting fuel. I've always been a healthy eater but now I'm in max-health mode. But not to worry, there is plenty of ice cream, chocolate and cookies mixed in --- for harmony. I'm reading a lot about energy medicine and the great capabilities oxygen has to fight disease, about exceptional cancer patients and the incredible powers of mind over matter. Must up the oxygen content and reduce the acidity. I want to give my blood the best chance to carry the good cells and dump the bad ones.
Every day I also make sure to get my blood pumping and my muscles moving. In the morning I do my own version of yoga stretches, elongating my creaky, knotty muscles. Eventually I'd like to learn the actual yoga practice during all of this as I'm sure the physical and mental pieces will do me wonders. But one thing at a time. For now, I twist and contort however it feels good every morning. Sometimes on my porch incorporating the deck railing as my ballet stretching bar. My neighbors probably think I've lost it. But I don't care. I don't want my muscles to shrivel from all of this lack of exercise.
On the days that I can do it, a walk has tremendous healing powers. Last night Craig, Sammy and I went for a beautiful walk around the neighborhood. The evening was the perfect temperature. The air felt like a crisp, starched sheet wrapped around us and swirled with the smells of barbecue and fresh-cut grass. It was so perfect that even Sammy was taking it in, staying at my snail's pace and not pulling on her leash in the slightest, a miracle in itself. We noticed so many more things when walking slowly rather than running through the neighborhood: lots of birds, including a blue jay and a goldfinch, newly sold houses, decorating and landscape ideas, the views at the top of the heights, and what our neighbors actually look like. It felt so good to leisurely jaunt with Craig, to feel my muscles warm with use. He didn't care that sometimes I walked with high knees, sometimes I trotted, sometimes I shuffled or skipped, trying to work different muscles and bend different joints. He's never been embarrassed by my at times quirky and uninhibited ways (or at least doesn't let on if he is) and that's what I love most about him.