happy thanksgiving day 2006
Barbara’s continued ovarian cancer story:
Two years have passed since my last article and I have a lot to share with you. Currently, I am sitting in my cozy little office/guest room in my cozy home on Whidbey Island, Washington. Rosie-the-gat is leaning on the windowsill and we both look out at the windswept trees and the billowing dark clouds blowing in the sky. It is so beautiful and I am so grateful to be here!
As of my last post, I had just completed eight cycles of intense chemotherapy for advanced ovarian cancer and was in remission, ready to celebrate a very special Thanksgiving with my family. (See articles 1 and 2 on the “articles” page at http://www.dstress.com.) Those vacations were wonderful. I felt healthy, had hair, worked and exercised, and planned for my retirement date (September 2005) and subsequent move to our home in Washington. Being a concerned investment planner/list maker, I arranged for retirement and moved within an inch of his life. I knew when my last day of work would be; how much vacation time I had on the books and what day we would be packing. John made plans for him to close his office and relocate his business. We’re done with cancer and ready to move on! Well, as we all know, life has a way of not always going according to plan. We were about to have a real curve ball thrown at us.
In March we took a big trip to Arizona to celebrate my birthday. On the drive from Phoenix to Bisbee to visit friends, we marveled at the lush green desert, bursting with flowers after recent rains. Locals told us this beauty lasted about two weeks before fading to gold and brown, and people had learned not to take it for granted. Well, that’s true about anything, right?
The day after we got back from our vacation, a message on my answering machine said that a new suspicious mass had been found on my most recent CT scan, the one I had done before we left for Arizona. I was devastated, furious and terrified! I ranted and raved and screamed, scaring John and the cat. What about my plans? My withdrawal? Move to my new home? What about my life? I don’t want more surgery, more chemotherapy! I don’t want to lose my hair again! I feel good and healthy. How can this be happening AGAIN? I had assumed that the first surgery and chemotherapy had worked and I was cured. But in fact, 70-90% of people have a recurrence at some point. I just didn’t think I would be one of them. I had to completely abandon my carefully orchestrated master plan and meet this challenge head-on.
June found me back at UCSF for major surgery to remove a tumor that was very close to, but not on, the liver. Because ovarian cancer cells tend to migrate to the spleen and gallbladder, they also removed those organs. I was fortunate to have access to one of the best surgeons in the country and the post-op reports indicated that they had completely removed all of the cancer! I used all the same tools to prepare before and after the operation that I had for my first surgery and my recovery was good. I got home in five days and went back to work in five weeks. I started chemotherapy in July.
On December 1, 2005 I had my last cycle of chemotherapy. Aside from a very low blood count (I was very anemic and my white blood cell count was very low), I tolerated the treatments quite well. Acupuncture, visualization, exercise, and supplements all played a part in my work to keep me as strong and healthy as possible. My hair lightened considerably, but I didn’t have to wear wigs or covers. With the particular drug regimen you were taking, there is a 60% chance of hair loss. Before the treatments began, I searched the web for any products that could minimize this side effect. I found a product called EVP3 Chemaid. The website is: www.evp3.com. It provides good information and research so I decided to give it a try. I don’t know if it was the main one, the different types of medications and dosages, the supplements, or all of the above, but I kept most of my hair. It seems like such a small thing when you’re fighting for your life. However, sometimes those little things make all the difference in the quality of life. I felt like I looked healthier and “normal” and that translated into not feeling like a cancer patient.
The new year brought a new resolution to finally make our plans to retire and move. My labs were fine, my scans were clear, and we moved to Whidbey Island in May. We have been involved in projects ever since.
First on the agenda was painting the interior and exterior of the house. Just as John and I have been a good team in my healing process, we have made a good team working in our home. And it’s been fun! We dug a garden using picks and shovels. We build planters and create a zen rock garden; We uprooted a huge juniper bush and planted roses and dahlias. At the end of the day, we collapsed into the recliners with a good sense of accomplishment. I have never used my muscles like this before. I would be exhausted by 8:00 pm, it was a good type of exhaustion. One of my favorite activities was sitting in the dirt, pulling weeds. The sun on my shoulders, the eagles flying overhead, the smell of earth, flowers, and growing things became a huge part of my healing process. I visualized my immune system ripping out and “disappearing” any unhealthy cells from my body with each weed I pulled. Working in the garden has become a wonderful meditation for me. I clear my mind and focus fully on the task at hand. Learning to live in the moment is a continual lesson, and I have to continually find a balance between clever planning and my natural tendency to plan for the future. I have learned to appreciate more each sunrise and sunset. I notice the rhythm of my breathing and muscle movement when walking and hiking. I take the time to collect interesting bits of wood from the beach and decorate my garden with them. I revel in the love of my family and dear friends. I consciously practice NOT taking anything for granted and try to live every moment with joy. I have a favorite mantra that I recite to myself on my daily walks. “thank you for all the blessings I enjoy; thank you for my health today; thank you for my family and friends; thank you for allowing me to spend time in this beautiful place; thank you for the gift of life! And not doing it would be very, very Nice if abundance cascaded into my life and those I love: abundance of physical, emotional, and spiritual health, and financial abundance.
I wish I could say that with all the meditation and mantras, I now lead a happy and positive life. The truth is that I have my ups and downs; my incredibly joyful moments along with moments of fear, sadness and anger. I go into worry mode when it’s time to do the lab work and wait for the results. I am afraid of any new pain or discomfort (does this mean the cancer is back?) I am torn between going ahead and spending money on remodeling the kitchen now or putting that money away in savings for a little while longer. Sometimes I feel caught between living in the moment and wanting to plan future projects for next year, two years from now, five years from now. And I still get angry that this happened to me, even though I’ve learned a lot of lessons over the years. One of the main lessons that I am beginning to grasp is that life is an act of faith. When I was planting the garden, I mainly put vegetables and flowers that would reward me with bouquets and crops right away. My leap of faith in the future was to plant a cherry tree. My daily prayer is to be there to enjoy the flowers and pick the cherries.
This year we will celebrate Thanksgiving in our new home. We will share our gratitude with friends and family; we will celebrate and watch football; and toast to health, happiness and prosperity. The garden now hibernates under a blanket of red and gold leaves. The tulips, daffodils, and hyacinths I planted last week rest and wait until it’s time to burst into colorful splendor. And I rest, write, clean closets and enjoy interior projects while I wait for spring, when I will burst out to nurture and be nurtured in my garden.
Here’s to rainy days and warm fires NOW and digging in the dirt IN THE FUTURE.
Happy Thanksgiving Day
Barbara Ehlers-Mason
Whidbey Island, WA