I titled this post with the word "Minor" because I want to keep things in perspective. There are a lot worse things that could happen. But I got a call from radiation oncology, and the machine is down, so I can't get today's treatment. It should be back up tomorrow, and I show up at my scheduled time. Today's missed treatment is made up...at the end - September 12th. So now it's no longer Friday, September 9th, I have to go back in for one more treatment on the following Monday. Like I said above, a lot worse things could happen, but I'm bummed nonetheless. I was planning on going to Door County that weekend to ride the Century Ride as a sort of celebration for finishing, now it will be for almost finishing. And since the ride is Sunday, I wasn't planning to drive back until Monday, that's a long drive to make sure I get back in time for one last appointment.
Perhaps I'm blowing things out of proportion, but I guess that just shows how, even though I think I'm doing well, what a fine line this all is sometimes. How one thing not going according to plan throws things (or my mental state, to be exact) out of balance. Then there's that little part of me that worries sometimes, what if the radiation isn't working? What if I'm going in every day, and it's not doing anything? Or, is it bad that I'm getting another day off, to delay my next treatment? Ok, also kind of silly, but I'm sure I'm not the only cancer patient that has these thoughts at times...
Ok, time for Tai Chi. Just read that it's really good for your immune system - better than running, in fact (>8. Maybe it's good for your mood, too.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Laughter Yoga
Since my diagnosis in May I've heard the "Let me know if there's anything I can do" a number of times. Because I was mostly feeling good (ok, not after the abdominal surgery) and had a capable, supportive significant other, there wasn't much I could say. A few folks just decided they were going to do something to help and did it (and some continue to do it - thanks, Misty!). For the others...pay my medical bills? So I just said let's get together - make me laugh.
Laughing is good for you. It's been scientifically shown to make you relax, release stress, and even decrease pain and boost immunity! Plus it's free, not to mention fun (>8. With those principles in mind, Dr. Madan Kataria invented laughter yoga, which combines laughter with yogic breathing (pranayama). The body cannot tell the difference between real and fake laughter, so laughter is simulated in a group, with exercises that hopefully make fake laughter turn into real laughter.
Since July, I've been going to various classes and sessions offered at Pathways, a holistic health center in Uptown (I've been meaning to write a post about Pathways for a while now). Tonight I went to a laughter yoga class. There were just three students and the teacher, Linda, who led us through different "exercises" that were just silly enough to make me laugh without much help. We pretended we were lions and roared with our tongues out. We made a conga line. We looked through tiny binoculars made by making loose fists. All while laughing at different pitches (think high-pitched "heeheehees," and low-pitched "ho ho hos"). The other two students seemed a bit subdued and maybe even skeptical. Even so, I had a lot of fun - I was being silly and laughing, how could that not be fun? I hope to do it again in a larger group, where the self consciousness wouldn't be so evident, and the environment even more raucous.
In the meantime, I'm meeting some friends for breakfast Friday...
Laughter yoga was featured in City Pages just last month: http://www.citypages.com/2011-07-06/news/laugh-yoga-practitioners-guffaw-their-way-to-good-health/
Laughing is good for you. It's been scientifically shown to make you relax, release stress, and even decrease pain and boost immunity! Plus it's free, not to mention fun (>8. With those principles in mind, Dr. Madan Kataria invented laughter yoga, which combines laughter with yogic breathing (pranayama). The body cannot tell the difference between real and fake laughter, so laughter is simulated in a group, with exercises that hopefully make fake laughter turn into real laughter.
Since July, I've been going to various classes and sessions offered at Pathways, a holistic health center in Uptown (I've been meaning to write a post about Pathways for a while now). Tonight I went to a laughter yoga class. There were just three students and the teacher, Linda, who led us through different "exercises" that were just silly enough to make me laugh without much help. We pretended we were lions and roared with our tongues out. We made a conga line. We looked through tiny binoculars made by making loose fists. All while laughing at different pitches (think high-pitched "heeheehees," and low-pitched "ho ho hos"). The other two students seemed a bit subdued and maybe even skeptical. Even so, I had a lot of fun - I was being silly and laughing, how could that not be fun? I hope to do it again in a larger group, where the self consciousness wouldn't be so evident, and the environment even more raucous.
In the meantime, I'm meeting some friends for breakfast Friday...
Laughter yoga was featured in City Pages just last month: http://www.citypages.com/2011-07-06/news/laugh-yoga-practitioners-guffaw-their-way-to-good-health/
Halfway There!
Today was radiation treatment #16 out of 32, so I'm half done! I'm still doing pretty well - the skin on my arm is not too irritated, and no real obvious fatigue. Fatigue is such a subjective thing to me, so any time I've noticed anything I've been able to chalk it up to something else. I'm not planning on experiencing faigue. I've been running regularly (ok, running/walking), have been to some gym classes, and am riding my bike. Sunday I took my road bike out, but the ride was cut short by a flat that wasn't able to be fixed.
Through some connections I met Julia, who went through surgery, radiation, and chemo two years ago. She actually works in the natural health care industry, and last night we talked about some of the things that worked for her, mostly to alleviate side effects of the chemo and radiation. She also told me about the website of Kris Carr, crazysexycancer.com. Julia was such a great resource, and I learned a lot of tips about how to prevent or lessen fatigue and burns on my arm.
Through some connections I met Julia, who went through surgery, radiation, and chemo two years ago. She actually works in the natural health care industry, and last night we talked about some of the things that worked for her, mostly to alleviate side effects of the chemo and radiation. She also told me about the website of Kris Carr, crazysexycancer.com. Julia was such a great resource, and I learned a lot of tips about how to prevent or lessen fatigue and burns on my arm.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Radiation
Just a brief update on the radiation treatments. I've now completed four (out of 32). I drive to the University of Minnesota for my daily appointment, park in a special spot, and swipe my card to check in, after which my name is called on the intercom. I go back to a room where a sort of bean bag mold is lying on a table (this mold was made during an appointment a couple of weeks ago). It takes a few minutes to get situated, lying on the table with my arm in the mold, with the technicians moving me and the table level so that the beam hits the same exact spot each time. The technicians leave the room, and a beeping sound means that radiation has started. It last a few seconds, and then the machine is rotated so that the beam is coming from underneath, and I get another dose of radiation from that angle. The technicians come in, lower the table, and I'm on my way. It's 20 seconds of radiation at most, and I'm in and out in 15-20 minutes.
So far, so good. I don't have any side effects yet - it will take any effects at least a couple of weeks to show up.
So far, so good. I don't have any side effects yet - it will take any effects at least a couple of weeks to show up.
My Bicycle
After completing a century ride last year, I had plans for more biking this year. I found a couple of interested people and we signed up to ride RAGBRAI (Des Moines Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa). We talked about putting some training rides together, with the biggest issue being getting my butt used to sitting on that saddle day after day. Scott and I also talked about biking to Stillwater (only a 20 mile ride via the Gateway Trail) and making a weekend out of it.
After learning I had sarcoma, I had to withdraw from RAGBRAI. Arm aside, I knew that I would be receiving daily radiation about that time (as it turns out, RAGBRAI was last week, the same week I started radiation). But with loss of strength and sensation in my left arm, I didn't know if I would be doing any biking this year.
I bought a new ride bike last year, and at first I was pretty bummed I wouldn't be using it. What helped was the realization that someone else could maybe use my bike. I asked Scott if anyone on his Team in Training tri team was having a great year but didn't have a great bike. So my bike got some use, Patty - a lymphoma survivor - didn't have to ride a mountain bike for 25 miles before running a 10k, and I no longer felt so bad about not being able to ride my bike.
A few weeks ago I did some guided imagery at Pathways. I was to picture myself now, and then picture myself healthy. Surprisingly, the healthy image that came to me was myself standing on a mountaintop, with my bike, like I had just ridden up that mountain. It was after that that I started thinking that maybe my bike was supposed to play a role in my healing journey.
My brother is an avid cyclist. This summer he's been riding 300k and 400k brevets (long distance cycling events) to qualify for Paris-Brest-Paris, a 1200k ride that he'll complete in less than 90 hours in a couple of weeks. He had mentioned once that maybe next spring, when I'm riding again, we could complete an event together. That's all he said, but my mind took it from there.
A couple weeks ago I drove up the North Shore, where there are always a few cyclists riding Highway 61. I thought about riding that road, wearing a "Team Sarcoma" jersey and stopping in the local restaurants and coffee shops. I've mentioned before that sarcomas are not very well known and not well studied. I imagined how many people I could reach just by riding my bike, wearing that jersey, and telling them about sarcoma. And what kind of funds I could raise. And how about wearing that jersey during RAGBRAI?
Back to the present. Last week I was driving into the garage when I noticed my helmet. And I started thinking about riding my bike - now. Perhaps it might be easier to shift with my hybrid - but even if I couldn't, you don't need to shift as much on the left. And the left brake is for the front wheel, for which you want a light touch anyways...so Friday I took my bike for a ride. I couldn't shift on the left, but I could brake. I only went a few blocks, but I started thinking about going for longer rides. I'm going to start gradually, in case my weak left hand does start to give out, and no big hills since I can't shift the big rings, but I thought the perfect place to start would be to ride to radiation a couple times per week. Severe thunderstorms kept me from doing it today, but stay tuned for tomorrow...
After learning I had sarcoma, I had to withdraw from RAGBRAI. Arm aside, I knew that I would be receiving daily radiation about that time (as it turns out, RAGBRAI was last week, the same week I started radiation). But with loss of strength and sensation in my left arm, I didn't know if I would be doing any biking this year.
I bought a new ride bike last year, and at first I was pretty bummed I wouldn't be using it. What helped was the realization that someone else could maybe use my bike. I asked Scott if anyone on his Team in Training tri team was having a great year but didn't have a great bike. So my bike got some use, Patty - a lymphoma survivor - didn't have to ride a mountain bike for 25 miles before running a 10k, and I no longer felt so bad about not being able to ride my bike.
A few weeks ago I did some guided imagery at Pathways. I was to picture myself now, and then picture myself healthy. Surprisingly, the healthy image that came to me was myself standing on a mountaintop, with my bike, like I had just ridden up that mountain. It was after that that I started thinking that maybe my bike was supposed to play a role in my healing journey.
My brother is an avid cyclist. This summer he's been riding 300k and 400k brevets (long distance cycling events) to qualify for Paris-Brest-Paris, a 1200k ride that he'll complete in less than 90 hours in a couple of weeks. He had mentioned once that maybe next spring, when I'm riding again, we could complete an event together. That's all he said, but my mind took it from there.
A couple weeks ago I drove up the North Shore, where there are always a few cyclists riding Highway 61. I thought about riding that road, wearing a "Team Sarcoma" jersey and stopping in the local restaurants and coffee shops. I've mentioned before that sarcomas are not very well known and not well studied. I imagined how many people I could reach just by riding my bike, wearing that jersey, and telling them about sarcoma. And what kind of funds I could raise. And how about wearing that jersey during RAGBRAI?
Back to the present. Last week I was driving into the garage when I noticed my helmet. And I started thinking about riding my bike - now. Perhaps it might be easier to shift with my hybrid - but even if I couldn't, you don't need to shift as much on the left. And the left brake is for the front wheel, for which you want a light touch anyways...so Friday I took my bike for a ride. I couldn't shift on the left, but I could brake. I only went a few blocks, but I started thinking about going for longer rides. I'm going to start gradually, in case my weak left hand does start to give out, and no big hills since I can't shift the big rings, but I thought the perfect place to start would be to ride to radiation a couple times per week. Severe thunderstorms kept me from doing it today, but stay tuned for tomorrow...
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