A number of people have asked me why I will still need to do more chemo later this summer if the spot on my liver turns out to not be cancer and if the main tumor (or what is left of it anyway) is completely removed during surgery. The quick answer is that the additional chemo is preventative medicine.
Basically, the PET/CT technology is only refined enough to detect cancer that is the size of a pea or bigger; any cancer cell clusters smaller than that can slip through the cracks undetected. And it is these undetected cancer cells that grow over time and show up in later scans as a "relapse". And so doing additional chemo post-surgery will help to ensure that any microscopic satellite cancer cells are also killed and flushed away.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
The Lonely Tumor Graveyard
In my "Highlights" blog below, as I was writing the sentence about the tumor being "gone forever", I couldn't help but smile as I remembered a blog entry I wrote very early on that is worth repeating...
Conversations With The Bitch -- March 3, 2007
"Get out of my body, you miserable Bitch! You think that you are so strong, but you picked the wrong person to mess with. I have a ka-zillion trillion healthy cells in my body right now who are ready to kick your scrawny little one-million-celled ass! My liver is strong and my lungs are strong and there is no way in hell that they are going to let you in. I have friends who love me, I have an amazing husband who loves me, I have two beautiful children who love and need me, I have an incredible family who loves me and I have God on my side. You have no one -- NO ONE loves you! Everyone wants you DEAD! And if you don't believe me, just wait until next week when my doctors arrive because they are bringing the big guns and before you know it you will be lying dead in some lonely tumor graveyard and I will be running happy and free in this beautiful world!"
As scary as my upcoming surgery is, I will be so incredibly happy to know without a doubt that the cancer is finally out of my body. My poor body has been fighting this damn thing for so many years (and has done a pretty kick-ass job of keeping it in check, I might add, given how bad things could have gotten by now) and so I will be so relieved to finally be cancer free. I remember when I wrote that blog entry; we still had not even officially picked a start date for the treatment and so there was still so much uncertainty for me about when and how things would eventually unfold. But I vividly remember the run that I took which prompted the "conversation with the Bitch" and I remember feeling so much faith in my heart even then that everything was going to turn out okay and that I was strong enough to beat this. And so now, four months later, I take such comfort in the fact that the "big guns" did indeed arrive and they blasted the crap out of the Bitch and I can revel in the fact that she will, in fact, be gone off to some "lonely tumor graveyard" by next Friday afternoon. Adios, Bitch, adios!
Conversations With The Bitch -- March 3, 2007
"Get out of my body, you miserable Bitch! You think that you are so strong, but you picked the wrong person to mess with. I have a ka-zillion trillion healthy cells in my body right now who are ready to kick your scrawny little one-million-celled ass! My liver is strong and my lungs are strong and there is no way in hell that they are going to let you in. I have friends who love me, I have an amazing husband who loves me, I have two beautiful children who love and need me, I have an incredible family who loves me and I have God on my side. You have no one -- NO ONE loves you! Everyone wants you DEAD! And if you don't believe me, just wait until next week when my doctors arrive because they are bringing the big guns and before you know it you will be lying dead in some lonely tumor graveyard and I will be running happy and free in this beautiful world!"
As scary as my upcoming surgery is, I will be so incredibly happy to know without a doubt that the cancer is finally out of my body. My poor body has been fighting this damn thing for so many years (and has done a pretty kick-ass job of keeping it in check, I might add, given how bad things could have gotten by now) and so I will be so relieved to finally be cancer free. I remember when I wrote that blog entry; we still had not even officially picked a start date for the treatment and so there was still so much uncertainty for me about when and how things would eventually unfold. But I vividly remember the run that I took which prompted the "conversation with the Bitch" and I remember feeling so much faith in my heart even then that everything was going to turn out okay and that I was strong enough to beat this. And so now, four months later, I take such comfort in the fact that the "big guns" did indeed arrive and they blasted the crap out of the Bitch and I can revel in the fact that she will, in fact, be gone off to some "lonely tumor graveyard" by next Friday afternoon. Adios, Bitch, adios!
Highlights from Wednesday Meetings
Wow -- today was one of the most draining days of my life!! As you know, we had meetings all day with my various doctors: the surgeon (Dr Garcia-Aguilar), the liver oncologist (Dr Warren), and my main oncologist (Dr Gullion), and our neighbor (Michael) who is a gastro oncologist. I am basically brain-dead right now so I'll just share the quick highlights:
> My surgery is officially scheduled for Friday, June 8th. I am supposed to be there at 9am and the surgery is expected to last 3-4 hours. Given that UCSF seems to chronically run about 2 hours late, that puts me in surgery until about 3pm PST.
> Dr Garcia-Aguilar expects that I'll be in the hospital for a week (give or take a day), and then will likely be moving slowly for another 3-4 weeks after that.
> Dr Warren was the most conservative of all the doctors we met with regarding the interpretation of the PET/CT scan results. He is still not convinced that the spot on my liver is not cancer...actually, let me rephrase that....He is cautiously optimistic that it is NOT cancer, but he doesn't want to take any chances. Therefore, he is still going to do an ultrasound during my surgery. Depending on what he sees in the ultrasound he might also do a biopsy and possibly resect that portion of my liver while I am under the anesthesia.
> This additional procedure will cause me a bit more pain and healing afterwards, but Pete and I are in complete agreement with Dr Warren. As we all discussed, we'd rather be 200% confident that it's not cancer, than be 90% confident and end up being be wrong.
> So, after my surgery next week, we should know with complete certainty exactly what the freckle on my liver is. And we will also have peace of mind that the main tumor is gone forever.
> When we met with Dr Gullion, I asked him what his impressions were of the scan results and his response was "I think that they are marvelous!" Yippee!!! I LOVE that word...marvelous!
> According to Dr Gullion, the next phase of chemo will start about a month after surgery depending on how my recovery goes. I'll go through 8 rounds of a drug called FOLFOX, which is the same drug that I took before combined with two additional drugs. I will go in every two weeks for treatment (as opposed to wearing the continuous pump like I did before) and so the 8 treatments will take about 4 months. This means that, if all goes as planned, I will be completely done with treatment shortly before Thanksgiving of this year. I can't think of a better thing to be thankful for than to be alive and cancer-free!!
> Lastly, my neighbor, Michael, just came over to see if we had any remaining questions that did not get answered from our meetings today. He agreed that the PET/CT results were fabulous. He said that we could not have hoped for a better outcome and that we have good reason to feel optimistic. Hallelujah!!
> My surgery is officially scheduled for Friday, June 8th. I am supposed to be there at 9am and the surgery is expected to last 3-4 hours. Given that UCSF seems to chronically run about 2 hours late, that puts me in surgery until about 3pm PST.
> Dr Garcia-Aguilar expects that I'll be in the hospital for a week (give or take a day), and then will likely be moving slowly for another 3-4 weeks after that.
> Dr Warren was the most conservative of all the doctors we met with regarding the interpretation of the PET/CT scan results. He is still not convinced that the spot on my liver is not cancer...actually, let me rephrase that....He is cautiously optimistic that it is NOT cancer, but he doesn't want to take any chances. Therefore, he is still going to do an ultrasound during my surgery. Depending on what he sees in the ultrasound he might also do a biopsy and possibly resect that portion of my liver while I am under the anesthesia.
> This additional procedure will cause me a bit more pain and healing afterwards, but Pete and I are in complete agreement with Dr Warren. As we all discussed, we'd rather be 200% confident that it's not cancer, than be 90% confident and end up being be wrong.
> So, after my surgery next week, we should know with complete certainty exactly what the freckle on my liver is. And we will also have peace of mind that the main tumor is gone forever.
> When we met with Dr Gullion, I asked him what his impressions were of the scan results and his response was "I think that they are marvelous!" Yippee!!! I LOVE that word...marvelous!
> According to Dr Gullion, the next phase of chemo will start about a month after surgery depending on how my recovery goes. I'll go through 8 rounds of a drug called FOLFOX, which is the same drug that I took before combined with two additional drugs. I will go in every two weeks for treatment (as opposed to wearing the continuous pump like I did before) and so the 8 treatments will take about 4 months. This means that, if all goes as planned, I will be completely done with treatment shortly before Thanksgiving of this year. I can't think of a better thing to be thankful for than to be alive and cancer-free!!
> Lastly, my neighbor, Michael, just came over to see if we had any remaining questions that did not get answered from our meetings today. He agreed that the PET/CT results were fabulous. He said that we could not have hoped for a better outcome and that we have good reason to feel optimistic. Hallelujah!!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Cancer Seeds
There was one other thing that Dr Poen explained to Pete and I last week during our appointment with him that is worth sharing since it was so interesting. He told us that cancer researchers are beginning to understand that cancer cells are like seeds. They can scatter throughout the body, much like seeds from a flower might be carried in the wind; but, unless the cancer cells land in "fertile soil" within the body, they will never take hold. He made the analogy of flower seeds landing on concrete -- they may lay there for years and years and never become anything, but if the wind carries them to nearby fertile soil the seeds can instantly come back to life and begin to flourish.
This is why some cancers can reappear years later. The "soil" in which the cells land changes over time as we age and so what was once "concrete" can sometimes become fertile ground later. For some reason (which Dr Poen did not explain) other types of cancer cells have a shorter lifespan. For example, I have been told that if I make it 5 years without any recurrence of this cancer then my chances of it coming back approach zero. All I can figure is that maybe some types of cancer cells eventually die if they do not find fertile ground soon enough.
I was reflecting on Dr Poen's information over the weekend and I couldn't help but think of the analogy to Scotch Broom. Scotch Broom is a plant in our area that is not indiginous to Northern California. I don't remember the story behind it (e.g., where it came from or why it was brought here), but the point is that it is now taking over much of the hillsides in Marin. It's actually a pretty plant, with beautiful yellow flowers which are in bloom much of the year, and so to the untrained eye it looks harmless and quite lovely. But, unfortunately, it grows so aggressively that it chokes out all the natural vegetation in the area and eventually takes over, which is why every spring there is a huge campaign to get rid of it.
I had a woman at the retreat that I attended a couple months ago approach me and tell me that I should embrace this cancer as part of myself, rather than referring to it as "The Bitch". She was concerned that by calling it this name I was somehow sending a negative messages to my own body rather than filling myself with more compassionate, loving thoughts. I appreciate the intention of what she was saying, but I don't agree. Yes, this cancer is part of me. It's not like it was a foreign substance that invaded my body; rather, it was created when one cell within my own body duplicated incorrectly and then began to multiply. However, I think that cancer is much like Scotch Broom. In and of itself, cancer cells may not evil. They are just cells, after all. Rather, the evilness of cancer lies in the fact that, once it finds fertile ground, it grows so aggressively that it eventually takes over the organ in which it is located until that organ can no longer function. And if the infected organ is vital (e.g., the liver) then death occurs.
And so I take comfort in the fact that, at the same time that community groups around me are waging the annual war against Scotch Broom invasion, I am waging my own war (luckily, with the help of many wonderful family and friends who surround me) against an even more aggressive and deadly "seed". Because, despite how seemingly harmless and "part of me" a single Bitch cell might appear to the untrained eye, she is evil and she must go!
This is why some cancers can reappear years later. The "soil" in which the cells land changes over time as we age and so what was once "concrete" can sometimes become fertile ground later. For some reason (which Dr Poen did not explain) other types of cancer cells have a shorter lifespan. For example, I have been told that if I make it 5 years without any recurrence of this cancer then my chances of it coming back approach zero. All I can figure is that maybe some types of cancer cells eventually die if they do not find fertile ground soon enough.
I was reflecting on Dr Poen's information over the weekend and I couldn't help but think of the analogy to Scotch Broom. Scotch Broom is a plant in our area that is not indiginous to Northern California. I don't remember the story behind it (e.g., where it came from or why it was brought here), but the point is that it is now taking over much of the hillsides in Marin. It's actually a pretty plant, with beautiful yellow flowers which are in bloom much of the year, and so to the untrained eye it looks harmless and quite lovely. But, unfortunately, it grows so aggressively that it chokes out all the natural vegetation in the area and eventually takes over, which is why every spring there is a huge campaign to get rid of it.
I had a woman at the retreat that I attended a couple months ago approach me and tell me that I should embrace this cancer as part of myself, rather than referring to it as "The Bitch". She was concerned that by calling it this name I was somehow sending a negative messages to my own body rather than filling myself with more compassionate, loving thoughts. I appreciate the intention of what she was saying, but I don't agree. Yes, this cancer is part of me. It's not like it was a foreign substance that invaded my body; rather, it was created when one cell within my own body duplicated incorrectly and then began to multiply. However, I think that cancer is much like Scotch Broom. In and of itself, cancer cells may not evil. They are just cells, after all. Rather, the evilness of cancer lies in the fact that, once it finds fertile ground, it grows so aggressively that it eventually takes over the organ in which it is located until that organ can no longer function. And if the infected organ is vital (e.g., the liver) then death occurs.
And so I take comfort in the fact that, at the same time that community groups around me are waging the annual war against Scotch Broom invasion, I am waging my own war (luckily, with the help of many wonderful family and friends who surround me) against an even more aggressive and deadly "seed". Because, despite how seemingly harmless and "part of me" a single Bitch cell might appear to the untrained eye, she is evil and she must go!
Monday, May 28, 2007
Our Sonoma Coast Weekend
One of the things that I have always loved most about Pete is that he is extremely realistic and honest about his own limitations. He is not one of those people who cannot say "no" and, therefore, takes on more than he can handle. By contrast, he is exceptionally talented at juggling multiple balls at once, but also knows when he is taking on too much and is ruthless about prioritizing what's on his plate. He is also very forthright and honest about what he personally needs in order to maintain his own mental and physical health. For example, he told me early on in our relationship that he needs "at least 4 nights a year sleeping under the stars." And I have learned over time that he is right!! If I give him these four nights (or one weekend away with the guys each year, or three days a week to work out, or whatever) that he really is a better person for it. Not surprisingly, one of his favorite life philosophies is the one that flight attendants say before take-off: "Please secure your own life mask before attending to those around you."
Pete also applies this same philosophy to our marriage. He believes strongly (as do I) that the strength of a family lies first-and-foremost in the strength of the marriage. One of the ways that Pete ensures that we focus on our marriage is by pushing for regular, adult-only getaways so that we can re-connect as a couple without the distraction of the kids. Luckily for me, in the mind-numbing haze that characterized the first few weeks after my diagnosis, Pete had the foresight to know that we would need a weekend away just prior to surgery in order to re-connect. And so we made plans to get away for three days to a resort on the Sonoma Coast (Timber Cove Inn) and that was where we were last weekend.
The weekend was fabulous: the views were spectacular, the food was incredible, we watched 5 great movies, and, in between movies, we talked non-stop. I think that getting out of town enabled us to escape from everything more than either of us expected, which was a welcome reprieve after the long ordeal we have gone through. And so, needless to say, it was difficult to return to reality but at least we were in a better emotional place when we got back. Anyway, below is a link to the pictures from our weekend. Enjoy!!
http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=1AbNnDFs3YsXMA
Again, click on "View Pictures" and then "View as a Slideshow".
Preliminary Results
Man-oh-man, it is wonderful to have friends in high places at times like this!!!
My neighbor, Tim (who is the liver specialist at UCSF) remembered that Friday was my scan date and so he logged into the UCSF system before leaving work on Friday to get access to my results. He called me shortly afterwards to let me know that everything looks great!! WOOOOOO HOOOOOO!!! And then, right after I hung up with him, Dr Poen called me as well to also share the results. In fact, he started the whole conversation by saying, "So, do you want to hear some great news?"
Apparently, the official radiology report indicates that there is "no sign of metastatic disease." This means that (1) there were no "surprises" (e.g., no other lesions that popped up anywhere in my body) AND (2) the spot on my liver did not light up (again) in the PET scan and appears to be the same exact size, which means that it's likely not cancerous. That is what I have been trying to tell everyone -- it's just a freckle!!! The report also shows that the main tumor "lit up" only about 1/10 of what it did during my earlier scan. Dr Poen's take on this is that either the tumor is completely gone, but there is still inflammation in the area (inflamed tissue also "lights up" on a PET) or that the tumor is still there but it has shrunk significantly. Either way, it's great news since the cancer clearly responded to the treatment. If the Bitch ain't gone yet, she is definitely on her way out!
So net-net, Pete and I are feeling extremely relieved and cautiously optimistic. Neither Tim nor Dr Poen would comment on what they think Dr Warren (the liver oncologist) will say about the results and whether or not he will still want to investigate the spot on my liver further during surgery. Nor did they comment on what this means with regards to my actual surgery and the post-surgery chemo protocol. And so we'll have to wait until our appointments on Wednesday with Dr Warren and the surgeon to get these questions answered, but at least we can go into these meetings much less anxious.
The funny thing is, the great results really didn't surprise me. I have had such a strong inner sense this whole time that the cancer had not metastasized and that everything was going to be fine. That's not to say that I haven't had moments of doubt; moments when I have thought "But what if I am wrong!! What if I don't really know my own body??!" But I think that 95% of the time, I have felt very positive about things. I think that is why, during the actual scan (which lasted about 45 minutes), I fell asleep. I'm not joking! I actually took a short nap during the scan and woke up feeling very refreshed. Ha, ha, ha!! I think this speaks to how relaxed and confident I was about the results. I also think that it reinforces my belief that our minds and our bodies really are interconnected and that something cannot be going on in our bodies without our minds knowing, and vice versa. The trick is to quiet the mind enough from all of life's distractions in order to listen and to also have the courage to embrace what is actually being said, rather than hearing what we want to hear.
My neighbor, Tim (who is the liver specialist at UCSF) remembered that Friday was my scan date and so he logged into the UCSF system before leaving work on Friday to get access to my results. He called me shortly afterwards to let me know that everything looks great!! WOOOOOO HOOOOOO!!! And then, right after I hung up with him, Dr Poen called me as well to also share the results. In fact, he started the whole conversation by saying, "So, do you want to hear some great news?"
Apparently, the official radiology report indicates that there is "no sign of metastatic disease." This means that (1) there were no "surprises" (e.g., no other lesions that popped up anywhere in my body) AND (2) the spot on my liver did not light up (again) in the PET scan and appears to be the same exact size, which means that it's likely not cancerous. That is what I have been trying to tell everyone -- it's just a freckle!!! The report also shows that the main tumor "lit up" only about 1/10 of what it did during my earlier scan. Dr Poen's take on this is that either the tumor is completely gone, but there is still inflammation in the area (inflamed tissue also "lights up" on a PET) or that the tumor is still there but it has shrunk significantly. Either way, it's great news since the cancer clearly responded to the treatment. If the Bitch ain't gone yet, she is definitely on her way out!
So net-net, Pete and I are feeling extremely relieved and cautiously optimistic. Neither Tim nor Dr Poen would comment on what they think Dr Warren (the liver oncologist) will say about the results and whether or not he will still want to investigate the spot on my liver further during surgery. Nor did they comment on what this means with regards to my actual surgery and the post-surgery chemo protocol. And so we'll have to wait until our appointments on Wednesday with Dr Warren and the surgeon to get these questions answered, but at least we can go into these meetings much less anxious.
The funny thing is, the great results really didn't surprise me. I have had such a strong inner sense this whole time that the cancer had not metastasized and that everything was going to be fine. That's not to say that I haven't had moments of doubt; moments when I have thought "But what if I am wrong!! What if I don't really know my own body??!" But I think that 95% of the time, I have felt very positive about things. I think that is why, during the actual scan (which lasted about 45 minutes), I fell asleep. I'm not joking! I actually took a short nap during the scan and woke up feeling very refreshed. Ha, ha, ha!! I think this speaks to how relaxed and confident I was about the results. I also think that it reinforces my belief that our minds and our bodies really are interconnected and that something cannot be going on in our bodies without our minds knowing, and vice versa. The trick is to quiet the mind enough from all of life's distractions in order to listen and to also have the courage to embrace what is actually being said, rather than hearing what we want to hear.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Good News
I received two pieces of good news in the last week:
1) I had a mammogram a couple weeks ago and the results were completely fine. Phew! Again, I don't think that I could handle getting another cancer diagnosis at this point, so I am incredibly relieved to have these additional cancer screening tests come back normal. You might wonder why I needed a mammogram after undergoing both a CT and PET scan (both of which supposedly test for cancer). Well, apparently, neither of these scans are as accurate as a mammogram and so, in an effort to identify any and all cancer that might be floating around my body, my doctors had recommended that I have a mammogram done as well. Whatever -- I am just glad that it came back normal!
2) We met with a genetic counselor a couple weeks ago as well. Apparently, there is a genetic condition called Lynch Syndrome which predisposed a person to not only colorectal cancer (people who test positive for Lynch have an 80% likelihood of getting colorectal cancer in their lifetime -- yikes!) but also ovarian, uterine, and a handful of other cancers. It was important to be tested for this condition prior to surgery since if I had tested positive I would have opted to remove both my ovaries and my uterus at the same time. Not a pretty thought but much prettier than the thought of going through another cancer later!! Luckily, the first of two tests came back negative. We are still awaiting results from the second test -- I should know by next Wednesday when we meet with the surgeon.
1) I had a mammogram a couple weeks ago and the results were completely fine. Phew! Again, I don't think that I could handle getting another cancer diagnosis at this point, so I am incredibly relieved to have these additional cancer screening tests come back normal. You might wonder why I needed a mammogram after undergoing both a CT and PET scan (both of which supposedly test for cancer). Well, apparently, neither of these scans are as accurate as a mammogram and so, in an effort to identify any and all cancer that might be floating around my body, my doctors had recommended that I have a mammogram done as well. Whatever -- I am just glad that it came back normal!
2) We met with a genetic counselor a couple weeks ago as well. Apparently, there is a genetic condition called Lynch Syndrome which predisposed a person to not only colorectal cancer (people who test positive for Lynch have an 80% likelihood of getting colorectal cancer in their lifetime -- yikes!) but also ovarian, uterine, and a handful of other cancers. It was important to be tested for this condition prior to surgery since if I had tested positive I would have opted to remove both my ovaries and my uterus at the same time. Not a pretty thought but much prettier than the thought of going through another cancer later!! Luckily, the first of two tests came back negative. We are still awaiting results from the second test -- I should know by next Wednesday when we meet with the surgeon.
Meeting with Dr Poen
Last week, Pete and I met with Dr Poen (my radiation oncologist). We have always loved having him as a doctor -- he is about our age, has two young kids, and has always been incredibly open, honest and straightforward in his conversations with us. Plus, he is the doctor who predicted almost to the day when the symptoms from radiation and chemo would start for me -- you gotta love that level of precision in an oncologist!!
One of the most helpful pieces of advice that he gave us during our meeting last week was around setting our expectations for the scan tomorrow. Dr Poen feels pretty confident that my main tumor has shrunk considerably and/or is completely gone by now, which is great news. But he also cautioned that the chances that we'll get 100% clarification about the spot on my liver is pretty minimal. He predicts that the liver specialist (Dr Warren) will still want to do some sort of exam of my liver during surgery (e.g., intra-operative ultrasound and/or biopsy) in order to better assess exactly what is going on. And so he cautioned us about expecting too much when we go in for the results next week. He said that, in his mind, the most important thing that we should all be hoping for with tomorrow's scan is that it does not reveal any "surprises". By this, he means that we all need to hope and pray that there are no other "suspicious" spots that appear anywhere else in my body that did not show up on earlier scans since this would suggest that the cancer has spread. So this is what I meant when I wrote in an earlier blog about praying for only "good surprises."
The other question I asked Dr Poen during our meeting was whether, in his experience, I could feel as healthy as I do and yet still have cancer. He agreed that the fact that I feel as great as I do is a good sign -- he feels confident that I would not feel this way if I had an aggressive cancer growing inside me right now. But he also cautioned that feeling great does not rule out the possibility that there are slow-growing cancer cells that might still remain. Okay, got it! Get me into surgery ASAP!!
One of the most helpful pieces of advice that he gave us during our meeting last week was around setting our expectations for the scan tomorrow. Dr Poen feels pretty confident that my main tumor has shrunk considerably and/or is completely gone by now, which is great news. But he also cautioned that the chances that we'll get 100% clarification about the spot on my liver is pretty minimal. He predicts that the liver specialist (Dr Warren) will still want to do some sort of exam of my liver during surgery (e.g., intra-operative ultrasound and/or biopsy) in order to better assess exactly what is going on. And so he cautioned us about expecting too much when we go in for the results next week. He said that, in his mind, the most important thing that we should all be hoping for with tomorrow's scan is that it does not reveal any "surprises". By this, he means that we all need to hope and pray that there are no other "suspicious" spots that appear anywhere else in my body that did not show up on earlier scans since this would suggest that the cancer has spread. So this is what I meant when I wrote in an earlier blog about praying for only "good surprises."
The other question I asked Dr Poen during our meeting was whether, in his experience, I could feel as healthy as I do and yet still have cancer. He agreed that the fact that I feel as great as I do is a good sign -- he feels confident that I would not feel this way if I had an aggressive cancer growing inside me right now. But he also cautioned that feeling great does not rule out the possibility that there are slow-growing cancer cells that might still remain. Okay, got it! Get me into surgery ASAP!!
CT/PET Scan Tomorrow!!
I cannot believe that tomorrow is my CT/PET scan! I feel like it was just yesterday that I was ending Phase 1 of my treatment. Where the heck does the time go??
The kids and I were at our neighbor's house this evening playing in their backyard. While the kids played, my neighbor Cindy and I were talking about my upcoming scan. I told her that I am feeling really positive about the test -- I just cannot believe that the results could possibly come back bad given how good I feel. She agreed that I look really healthy and that she also feels positive about the results. And given that Cindy is a former UCSF doctor, I really value her opinion!! So I guess the question that remains to be answered is whether the mind (my mind, in particular!) is really able to "sense" what is going on in it's own body or whether cancer is really that evil??
Unfortunately, because of the Memorial Day weekend, we won't get the actual results of tomorrow's scan until next Wednesday. I am actually okay with this, though. Given what we went through in the first few weeks after I was diagnosed (e.g., the various doctors interpreting the results of my earlier scans differently and giving us different messages about whether I was stage 3 or stage 4) Pete and I are both feeling like we would rather give the doctors as much time as they need to all come to one consensus. We want one recommendation for treatment going forward, and if that takes them until Wednesday to figure out then so be it.
While I am on the topic of my scan tomorrow, I want to thank all of you who have sent me emails saying that I am in your prayers this week. I am so appreciative of all the love and support that I have received -- it definitely keeps me going!! So please think of me tomorrow around 12:30pm and I will think of all of you. Hopefully all the "love vibes" shooting around will kill any remaining cancer in my body. :)
The kids and I were at our neighbor's house this evening playing in their backyard. While the kids played, my neighbor Cindy and I were talking about my upcoming scan. I told her that I am feeling really positive about the test -- I just cannot believe that the results could possibly come back bad given how good I feel. She agreed that I look really healthy and that she also feels positive about the results. And given that Cindy is a former UCSF doctor, I really value her opinion!! So I guess the question that remains to be answered is whether the mind (my mind, in particular!) is really able to "sense" what is going on in it's own body or whether cancer is really that evil??
Unfortunately, because of the Memorial Day weekend, we won't get the actual results of tomorrow's scan until next Wednesday. I am actually okay with this, though. Given what we went through in the first few weeks after I was diagnosed (e.g., the various doctors interpreting the results of my earlier scans differently and giving us different messages about whether I was stage 3 or stage 4) Pete and I are both feeling like we would rather give the doctors as much time as they need to all come to one consensus. We want one recommendation for treatment going forward, and if that takes them until Wednesday to figure out then so be it.
While I am on the topic of my scan tomorrow, I want to thank all of you who have sent me emails saying that I am in your prayers this week. I am so appreciative of all the love and support that I have received -- it definitely keeps me going!! So please think of me tomorrow around 12:30pm and I will think of all of you. Hopefully all the "love vibes" shooting around will kill any remaining cancer in my body. :)
Master Danadoost
Well, I went to see Master Danadoost (the healer) again today and the experience was equally amazing to last time. The protocol was very similar to last time, minus the intro session in the beginning -- basically a massage-like treatment with lots of talking and instruction around breathing and visualizations. And by the end, I was tingling again from head to foot and I was so light-headed that I had to sit on the edge of the massage table for a couple minutes before I could get up. The only reason that I finally stood up was that I was feeling a bit awkward about continuing to sit there. Unfortunately, I stood up too early and when I took a step towards the door I practically fell over! I literally stumbled straight into the door as though I was drunk and the door knob is the only thing that kept me from falling over. Needless to say, I sat in my car for a few minutes before I felt steady enough to drive home. I really have no idea what he does or how he does it, but the experience is incredible. I guess we'll know in a few days whether it's actually having the desired effect!!
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Quick Update
I know, I know...it's been AGES since I last wrote anything!! But I have good excuses, I promise!
Last week, my Grandma Connie came to visit for the whole week PLUS my cousin Jeremy and his wife Shannon (and their three kids) came to town PLUS an old friend of mine from high school was in town for a night PLUS Pete's cousin, Liz, was in town for the week. Needless to say, we have been very busy catching up with all of these wonderful people. And then, as soon as everyone had left, Pete and I took off for a much needed romantic getaway. We just got back tonight after being gone for 3 days up north on the Sonoma Coast.
Anyway, I have so many things that I want to write about, but I will be super busy tomorrow just trying to catch up after being gone, so check back in a couple days and I promise that I'll have written more by then!
And by the way, my CT/PET scan is this Friday. If you are the praying type, please, please, please say a special prayer for me!! Dr Poen suggested last week that we should be hoping for "no surprises", but I realized that I'd actually be thrilled with surprises as long as they are good surprises (e.g., my body is completely healthy; no signs of disease anywhere). So please say a prayer that I be blessed with only good surprises! :)
Last week, my Grandma Connie came to visit for the whole week PLUS my cousin Jeremy and his wife Shannon (and their three kids) came to town PLUS an old friend of mine from high school was in town for a night PLUS Pete's cousin, Liz, was in town for the week. Needless to say, we have been very busy catching up with all of these wonderful people. And then, as soon as everyone had left, Pete and I took off for a much needed romantic getaway. We just got back tonight after being gone for 3 days up north on the Sonoma Coast.
Anyway, I have so many things that I want to write about, but I will be super busy tomorrow just trying to catch up after being gone, so check back in a couple days and I promise that I'll have written more by then!
And by the way, my CT/PET scan is this Friday. If you are the praying type, please, please, please say a special prayer for me!! Dr Poen suggested last week that we should be hoping for "no surprises", but I realized that I'd actually be thrilled with surprises as long as they are good surprises (e.g., my body is completely healthy; no signs of disease anywhere). So please say a prayer that I be blessed with only good surprises! :)
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Diet Coke
Prior to my cancer diagnosis, I used to be an avid Diet Coke drinker. I have never been a big coffee drinker and so I justified my Diet Coke habit as being no worse than coffee -- caffeine is caffeine, right?? I think that I always suspected that Coke was not great for my body, though -- especially after I went on vacation one time about 10 years ago. I was gone for a week and left a half-drank styrofoam cup of Diet Coke on my desk at work. I returned from vacation to find that the Diet Coke had eaten away the bottom of the cup and spilled all over my desk. Yuck! Sadly, though, this experience did nothing to keep me from buying another one...The stuff is truly addictive!!
Anyway, a friend of mine sent me the information below. I don't know whether reading this would have changed my behavior prior to being diagnosed (denial is a strong motivator) and I don't know if reading it will inspire any of you to give up soda either, but hopefully it does. Like I said many times, I don't know what caused my cancer, but I am 100% certain that drinking Diet Coke instead of water didn't help!
WATER
• 75% of Americans are chronically dehydrated.
• In 37% of Americans, the thirst mechanism is so weak that it is mistaken for hunger.
• Even MILD dehydration will slow down one's metabolism by 3%.
• One glass of water will shut down midnight hunger pangs for almost 100% of the dieters studied in a University of Washington study.
• Lack of water is the #1 trigger of daytime fatigue.
• Preliminary research indicates that 8-10 glasses of water a day could significantly ease back and joint pain for up to 80% of sufferers.
• A mere 2% drop in body water can trigger fuzzy short-term memory, trouble with basic math, and difficulty focusing on the computer screen or on a printed page.
• Drinking 5 glasses of water daily decreases the risk of colon cancer by 45%, plus it can slash the risk of breast cancer by 79%, and one is 50% less likely to develop bladder cancer.
COKE
• In many states the highway patrol carries two gallons of Coke in the trunk to remove blood from the highway after a car accident.
• You can put a T-bone steak in a bowl of Coke and it will be gone in two days. (Is this really true?? Oh my God!!!)
• To clean a toilet: Pour a can of Coca-Cola into the toilet bowl and let the "real thing" sit for one hour, then flush clean. The citric acid in Coke removes stains from vitreous china.
• To remove rust spots from chrome car bumpers: Rub the bumper with a rumpled-up piece of Reynolds Wrap aluminum foil dipped in Coca-Cola.
• To clean corrosion from car battery terminals: Pour a can of Coca-Cola over the terminals to bubble away the corrosion.
• To loosen a rusted bolt: Apply a cloth soaked in Coca-Cola to the rusted bolt for several minutes.
• To bake a moist ham: Empty a can of Coca-Cola into the baking pan, wrap the ham in aluminum foil, and bake. Thirty minutes before ham is finished, remove the foil, allowing the drippings to mix with the Coke for a sumptuous brown gravy.
• To remove grease from clothes: Empty a can of Coke into the load of greasy clothes, add detergent, and run through a regular cycle. The Coca-Cola will help loosen grease stains. It will also clean road haze from your windshield.
FOR YOUR INFORMATION:
• The active ingredient in Coke is phosphoric acid. It will dissolve a nail in about four days. Phosphoric acid also leaches calcium from bones and is a major contributor to the rising increase of osteoporosis.
• To carry Coca-Cola syrup (the concentrate) the commercial trucks must use a hazardous material place cards reserved for highly corrosive materials.
• The distributors of Coke have been using it to clean engines of the trucks for about 20 years
Anyway, a friend of mine sent me the information below. I don't know whether reading this would have changed my behavior prior to being diagnosed (denial is a strong motivator) and I don't know if reading it will inspire any of you to give up soda either, but hopefully it does. Like I said many times, I don't know what caused my cancer, but I am 100% certain that drinking Diet Coke instead of water didn't help!
WATER
• 75% of Americans are chronically dehydrated.
• In 37% of Americans, the thirst mechanism is so weak that it is mistaken for hunger.
• Even MILD dehydration will slow down one's metabolism by 3%.
• One glass of water will shut down midnight hunger pangs for almost 100% of the dieters studied in a University of Washington study.
• Lack of water is the #1 trigger of daytime fatigue.
• Preliminary research indicates that 8-10 glasses of water a day could significantly ease back and joint pain for up to 80% of sufferers.
• A mere 2% drop in body water can trigger fuzzy short-term memory, trouble with basic math, and difficulty focusing on the computer screen or on a printed page.
• Drinking 5 glasses of water daily decreases the risk of colon cancer by 45%, plus it can slash the risk of breast cancer by 79%, and one is 50% less likely to develop bladder cancer.
COKE
• In many states the highway patrol carries two gallons of Coke in the trunk to remove blood from the highway after a car accident.
• You can put a T-bone steak in a bowl of Coke and it will be gone in two days. (Is this really true?? Oh my God!!!)
• To clean a toilet: Pour a can of Coca-Cola into the toilet bowl and let the "real thing" sit for one hour, then flush clean. The citric acid in Coke removes stains from vitreous china.
• To remove rust spots from chrome car bumpers: Rub the bumper with a rumpled-up piece of Reynolds Wrap aluminum foil dipped in Coca-Cola.
• To clean corrosion from car battery terminals: Pour a can of Coca-Cola over the terminals to bubble away the corrosion.
• To loosen a rusted bolt: Apply a cloth soaked in Coca-Cola to the rusted bolt for several minutes.
• To bake a moist ham: Empty a can of Coca-Cola into the baking pan, wrap the ham in aluminum foil, and bake. Thirty minutes before ham is finished, remove the foil, allowing the drippings to mix with the Coke for a sumptuous brown gravy.
• To remove grease from clothes: Empty a can of Coke into the load of greasy clothes, add detergent, and run through a regular cycle. The Coca-Cola will help loosen grease stains. It will also clean road haze from your windshield.
FOR YOUR INFORMATION:
• The active ingredient in Coke is phosphoric acid. It will dissolve a nail in about four days. Phosphoric acid also leaches calcium from bones and is a major contributor to the rising increase of osteoporosis.
• To carry Coca-Cola syrup (the concentrate) the commercial trucks must use a hazardous material place cards reserved for highly corrosive materials.
• The distributors of Coke have been using it to clean engines of the trucks for about 20 years
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Unwavering Hope
I had a meeting this week with the therapist who is affiliated with the cancer center. During our conversation, I confessed to her that if I think too much about my upcoming CT/PET scan I start to panic. She asked me to talk through exactly what it was about the upcoming test that is making me so anxious so that she could better understand. Here is how our conversation went:
Me: "I think the thing that scares me the most is that maybe I am wrong about how my body feels and the scans will actually show that the spot on my liver is cancer. Or even worse, that there will be additional spots that show up."
Debbie: "And what will that mean for you?"
Me: "That the cancer has metastasized."
Debbie: "And what does that mean for you?"
Me: "That there is no hope. That I am going to die."
Debbie: "So in your mind, having metastatic cancer equals death?"
Me: "Yes."
Debbie: "Well, first of all I can tell you that there are many other treatments paths that the doctors can take if the cancer has metastasized. They probably haven't mentioned these to you since it's still premature. But know that there are other things that can be done. And secondly, you need to know that there are many people now who live with metastatic cancer for many years. In many ways, cancer has become more of a chronic disease than a terminal one. In fact, I have one patient who has lived with metastatic cancer for 20 years."
As you can imagine, this conversation was an immense relief to me. Prior to my diagnosis, I had virtually zero experience with cancer. No one in my immediate family has ever had cancer and I only have one good friend who has been affected, and so I don't have any life experiences to draw upon. Needless to say, being able to talk with someone like Debbie -- who has treated cancer patients for over 20 years and has witnessed the gamut of outcomes -- was incredible helpful.
During the week, as I reflected back on our conversation, I came to realize that it was the feeling of "no hope" that was scariest to me. I think that hope is so much more important than people realize and it's something that we take for granted in our everyday lives. There are very few situations in life in which there is truly "no hope" (and for which having "no hope" has such dire consequences!) and so when faced with this possibility, my mind panicked. But what I realized as I processed through the conversation, is that there is absolutely no reason that I should give up hope, regardless of the outcome from my scans. In fact, until the end is truly here...until I am taking my very last breath....until that very last moment of my life, there is no reason to give up hope. And no one can take hope away from me unless I let them!! I came to realize that hope must come from within me -- I cannot expect to get it from the doctors, or from the Internet, or from scans because all of these sources of information are inherently flawed; they are only as good as the latest technology and research. And as I have said before, the things in life that are known are only a small piece of what is unknown.
So I am now forging on toward May 25th (my scan date) with a renewed sense of hope in my heart and an unwavering sense of well-being in my soul.
Me: "I think the thing that scares me the most is that maybe I am wrong about how my body feels and the scans will actually show that the spot on my liver is cancer. Or even worse, that there will be additional spots that show up."
Debbie: "And what will that mean for you?"
Me: "That the cancer has metastasized."
Debbie: "And what does that mean for you?"
Me: "That there is no hope. That I am going to die."
Debbie: "So in your mind, having metastatic cancer equals death?"
Me: "Yes."
Debbie: "Well, first of all I can tell you that there are many other treatments paths that the doctors can take if the cancer has metastasized. They probably haven't mentioned these to you since it's still premature. But know that there are other things that can be done. And secondly, you need to know that there are many people now who live with metastatic cancer for many years. In many ways, cancer has become more of a chronic disease than a terminal one. In fact, I have one patient who has lived with metastatic cancer for 20 years."
As you can imagine, this conversation was an immense relief to me. Prior to my diagnosis, I had virtually zero experience with cancer. No one in my immediate family has ever had cancer and I only have one good friend who has been affected, and so I don't have any life experiences to draw upon. Needless to say, being able to talk with someone like Debbie -- who has treated cancer patients for over 20 years and has witnessed the gamut of outcomes -- was incredible helpful.
During the week, as I reflected back on our conversation, I came to realize that it was the feeling of "no hope" that was scariest to me. I think that hope is so much more important than people realize and it's something that we take for granted in our everyday lives. There are very few situations in life in which there is truly "no hope" (and for which having "no hope" has such dire consequences!) and so when faced with this possibility, my mind panicked. But what I realized as I processed through the conversation, is that there is absolutely no reason that I should give up hope, regardless of the outcome from my scans. In fact, until the end is truly here...until I am taking my very last breath....until that very last moment of my life, there is no reason to give up hope. And no one can take hope away from me unless I let them!! I came to realize that hope must come from within me -- I cannot expect to get it from the doctors, or from the Internet, or from scans because all of these sources of information are inherently flawed; they are only as good as the latest technology and research. And as I have said before, the things in life that are known are only a small piece of what is unknown.
So I am now forging on toward May 25th (my scan date) with a renewed sense of hope in my heart and an unwavering sense of well-being in my soul.
Friday, May 11, 2007
CT/PET Scan In Two Weeks
I have exactly two weeks until my CT/PET scan -- the appointment is Friday, May 25th at noon. Not that I am counting or anything...
At this point, May 25th is still far enough away that I am not wracked with anxiety yet, but it is soon enough that I find myself thinking about it. Specifically, I find myself wondering whether a person can really feel as great as I feel these days and yet get bad results back. I really do feel great -- the only "symptoms" I seem to have are ones caused by the chemo + radiation (e.g., fatigue and an occasional upset stomach). Doesn't this count for something? Doesn't it count that I feel really good? Is it safe for me to assume that the scans will come back with good news because of how great I feel? Or is cancer really that horribly evil?
At this point, May 25th is still far enough away that I am not wracked with anxiety yet, but it is soon enough that I find myself thinking about it. Specifically, I find myself wondering whether a person can really feel as great as I feel these days and yet get bad results back. I really do feel great -- the only "symptoms" I seem to have are ones caused by the chemo + radiation (e.g., fatigue and an occasional upset stomach). Doesn't this count for something? Doesn't it count that I feel really good? Is it safe for me to assume that the scans will come back with good news because of how great I feel? Or is cancer really that horribly evil?
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Skin Biopsy Update
I just finished talking with the nurse at my dermotologist's office and got the official "no cancer" report on the three moles that I had removed last week. Phew!!! I don't think that I could have handled another positive cancer report right now. The nurse did share, however, that one of the biopsies was classified by the pathologist as a "Clark's mole". I never even heard of this term before now, but apparently, this means that the mole was non-cancerous but that I have a skin type that is "susceptible to cancer". Hmmm...blond hair, blue eyes, fair skin....I could have told them that before they even did the biopsy! Oh well, we have it officially documented now I guess.
Dr Andrew Weil
Within the whole health food and nutrition world, the name Andrew Weil is fairly famous. He is a Harvard Med School-trained doctor who has adopted a very "holistic" philosophy on health and has written numerous books on how foods can be used to heal (or harm) the body.
I subscribe to his daily newsletter (www.drweil.com) where he sends interesting food and diet tips and the one that arrived yesterday was quite timely, so I thought I would share it:
I subscribe to his daily newsletter (www.drweil.com) where he sends interesting food and diet tips and the one that arrived yesterday was quite timely, so I thought I would share it:
A Diet to Protect Against Cancer
A healthy diet can help the body in its efforts to heal itself, and in some cases, particular foods can strengthen the immune system and lessen the risks of serious illness. To help reduce your risk of some types of cancer, try the following:
- Avoid polyunsaturated vegetable oils, margarine, vegetable shortening, all partially hydrogenated oils, and all foods that might contain trans-fatty acids (such as deep-fried foods).
- Increase omega-3 fatty acids by eating more cold water oily fish, freshly ground flaxseeds, and walnuts.
- Reduce consumption of animal foods and try to replace them with vegetable proteins such as whole soy products.
- Use hormone-free, organically produced products whenever possible.
- Eat plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables.
- Eat shiitake, enokidake, maitake, and oyster mushrooms frequently.
- Drink green tea daily.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
My Healer, Master Danadoost
So in the spirit of leaving no rock unturned and having no regrets at the end of this journey, I did something on Tuesday that was a bit unusual (at least to me) -- I went to see a "healer". I have to admit that I didn't even really understand what a healer does before going, but I had heard about this particular healer from a couple different, reputable sources and so decided to give it a try. Well, I can tell you that it was the single most incredible experience that I have had so far since my diagnosis -- it was really overwhelming!!
The first 20 minutes of my appointment were spent going over my personal history. The healer, Master Danadoost (yes, this is the name on his business card), had me bring in photos of myself both before and after getting cancer as well as pictures of my family. He studied the pictures intently for about 5 minutes (although he didn't say what he was looking for) and then he asked me numerous questions about my diagnosis and my prior health history. After that was done, he had me lie on a massage table and he basically performed a cross between a massage and acupressure treatment for about 40 minutes. The whole time, he talked non-stop giving me very specific instructions on how he wanted me to breathe and talking directly to various parts of my body, giving them directions for healing.
I know, I know...this all sounds a bit hokey. So what made the experience so incredible? Because by the time that the session was over, my whole body was so unbelievably tingly that my hands and feet actually hurt -- kind of like how your body feels when you wake up in the middle of the night to find that you have been sleeping in a strange position and your arm or hand has fallen asleep. Only I could feel the tingling all the way up and down both arms and legs and into my torso. I was also completely drenched in sweat, whereas I was comfortably cool at the beginning of the session. And I was so light-headed when he finished that I could not even sit up for a couple minutes. Once I could finally sit up, I had to stay sitting and collect myself for about 5 minutes before I could leave the office. And as I was struggling to sit up and get my bearings, Master Danadoost was shaking his hands forcefully and commenting about how much his hands hurt and how hot they were from the treatment.
I have no idea how Master Danadoost did what he did...I don't even really know what he did (some people call it "moving your energy" or "releasing toxins"), but I can tell you without a shred of doubt that he did something to my body. I have had a number of massages since I was diagnosed and none of them came close to what I experienced in this session. So needless to say, I am going back again soon. It will be interesting to see whether the next session is equally amazing...I'll keep you posted!
The first 20 minutes of my appointment were spent going over my personal history. The healer, Master Danadoost (yes, this is the name on his business card), had me bring in photos of myself both before and after getting cancer as well as pictures of my family. He studied the pictures intently for about 5 minutes (although he didn't say what he was looking for) and then he asked me numerous questions about my diagnosis and my prior health history. After that was done, he had me lie on a massage table and he basically performed a cross between a massage and acupressure treatment for about 40 minutes. The whole time, he talked non-stop giving me very specific instructions on how he wanted me to breathe and talking directly to various parts of my body, giving them directions for healing.
I know, I know...this all sounds a bit hokey. So what made the experience so incredible? Because by the time that the session was over, my whole body was so unbelievably tingly that my hands and feet actually hurt -- kind of like how your body feels when you wake up in the middle of the night to find that you have been sleeping in a strange position and your arm or hand has fallen asleep. Only I could feel the tingling all the way up and down both arms and legs and into my torso. I was also completely drenched in sweat, whereas I was comfortably cool at the beginning of the session. And I was so light-headed when he finished that I could not even sit up for a couple minutes. Once I could finally sit up, I had to stay sitting and collect myself for about 5 minutes before I could leave the office. And as I was struggling to sit up and get my bearings, Master Danadoost was shaking his hands forcefully and commenting about how much his hands hurt and how hot they were from the treatment.
I have no idea how Master Danadoost did what he did...I don't even really know what he did (some people call it "moving your energy" or "releasing toxins"), but I can tell you without a shred of doubt that he did something to my body. I have had a number of massages since I was diagnosed and none of them came close to what I experienced in this session. So needless to say, I am going back again soon. It will be interesting to see whether the next session is equally amazing...I'll keep you posted!
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Laugh Therapy
Some good friends of ours sent Pete and I a bunch of hilarious stand-up comedian DVDs (e.g., Seinfeld, Dana Carvey, Johnny Carson, Robin Williams, etc). In the note that accompanied their gift, they wrote "We have parents and friends who have survived cancer and who believe without reservation that laughter is critical. We hope these make you laugh." Boy, have they ever!! We have watched them for the past three nights in a row and realized how much we have missed laughing in these past 3 months. Because of this we made a commitment to watch funny videos once or twice a week for the remainder of my treatment.
And so we need your help! Please send me an email and let me know your all-time favorite, laugh-out-loud videos so that we can begin to compile our list. My email address is juliewheelan@yahoo.com. And thanks in advance for the laugh therapy! :)
And so we need your help! Please send me an email and let me know your all-time favorite, laugh-out-loud videos so that we can begin to compile our list. My email address is juliewheelan@yahoo.com. And thanks in advance for the laugh therapy! :)
Living With No Regrets
After reading Shannon's comment to my blog entry below about sugar, my immediate reaction was "Oh God, maybe I need to lighten up on things like sugar and just enjoy life a bit more. I sound completely neurotic!! What is chemo doing to me??? Am I going off the deep end??" But the more that I thought about it, the more I realized that I can't lighten up on this. The stakes are too high -- I can't take any chances!!
When Pete and I were trying to get pregnant with Kyle we had one heartbreak after another for about three years. We went through two rounds of IVF that enabled us to transfer about 10 embryos. And of the embryos that we transfered, we got pregnant twice (once with twins). But, sadly, we miscarried all three babies. After the last miscarriage, we took some time off to regroup emotionally and try to sort through our options. After many tearful discussions, we finally agreed that we had the financial means and emotional strength to attempt one more round of IVF. But since this was our last attempt, we also knew that we had to do everything in our power to make it work so that we could always know in our hearts that we had tried our best. So I researched about 15 different fertility clinics around the country and narrowed our choices down to three. We then interviewed doctors at the three clinics, asking them a multitude of questions about our situation....What did they think was causing our miscarriages? What treatment did they propose we try next? What made their clinic better than other clinics? What did they think my chances were of getting and staying pregnant again? What else, if anything, should we be doing to improve our odds of success? In the end, we chose to go to a clinic in Colorado because the work that they were doing around reproductive endocrinology was the most cutting edge. I also did a lot of research on nutrition and modified my diet tremendously. And I found an acupuncturist that was highly experienced in treating fertility-related issues and worked with him regularly. So in the end, I made these and other changes knowing that we were only going to try one more time and knowing that I never wanted to look back and wonder "What if?", as in " What if I had only done X...would I have another child today?"
Luckily, we all know how the story ends: I got pregnant and we now have a beautiful child named Kyle. It was not an easy pregnancy. I was actually pregnant with triplets at first, but lost two of the babies around week 10 which landed me on bed rest for about 5 weeks so that we wouldn't lose Kyle as well. But in the end, we had our beautiful baby boy.
We will never know exactly what made this pregnancy work when the others failed. Was it the new clinic? Was it the acupuncture? Was is the changes in my diet? Or was it some other factor -- like the hand of God -- that we will never understand? This will remain a mystery forever. All I know is that when Pete and I flew home after undergoing our last and final IVF (but before we knew for sure that we were pregnant) we both looked at each other and agreed that if it didn't work, it wasn't meant to be. We had truly done everything humanly possible and we could have no regrets. At that point, we turned our fate over to God.
This is exactly how I feel about the changes that I am making today. I don't know what the outcome of this crazy life journey is going to be, but I do know that I don't ever want to look back with any regrets. I can't bear the thought of having my cancer come back and having to explain to my children that I could have possibly done something to prevent it. If this is my time to go, I want my children to know that I went out kicking and screaming and fighting!! I want my husband to see with his own two eyes how I love him with all my heart and how much I love the life that we have created together and how I am willing to do anything, anything to get this cancer out of our lives. The stakes that I am facing right now are as high as they get: will I live through this cancer or won't I? While there is much that is unknown, what I do know is that there are some things that I can control (such as diet, exercise, acupuncture, following the treatment plan laid out by my doctors, etc). And in the end, if making these changes doesn't provide me the outcome for which I am hoping and praying, then maybe it wasn't meant to be. After I have done everything I can humanly do, I must turn my fate over to God.
When Pete and I were trying to get pregnant with Kyle we had one heartbreak after another for about three years. We went through two rounds of IVF that enabled us to transfer about 10 embryos. And of the embryos that we transfered, we got pregnant twice (once with twins). But, sadly, we miscarried all three babies. After the last miscarriage, we took some time off to regroup emotionally and try to sort through our options. After many tearful discussions, we finally agreed that we had the financial means and emotional strength to attempt one more round of IVF. But since this was our last attempt, we also knew that we had to do everything in our power to make it work so that we could always know in our hearts that we had tried our best. So I researched about 15 different fertility clinics around the country and narrowed our choices down to three. We then interviewed doctors at the three clinics, asking them a multitude of questions about our situation....What did they think was causing our miscarriages? What treatment did they propose we try next? What made their clinic better than other clinics? What did they think my chances were of getting and staying pregnant again? What else, if anything, should we be doing to improve our odds of success? In the end, we chose to go to a clinic in Colorado because the work that they were doing around reproductive endocrinology was the most cutting edge. I also did a lot of research on nutrition and modified my diet tremendously. And I found an acupuncturist that was highly experienced in treating fertility-related issues and worked with him regularly. So in the end, I made these and other changes knowing that we were only going to try one more time and knowing that I never wanted to look back and wonder "What if?", as in " What if I had only done X...would I have another child today?"
Luckily, we all know how the story ends: I got pregnant and we now have a beautiful child named Kyle. It was not an easy pregnancy. I was actually pregnant with triplets at first, but lost two of the babies around week 10 which landed me on bed rest for about 5 weeks so that we wouldn't lose Kyle as well. But in the end, we had our beautiful baby boy.
We will never know exactly what made this pregnancy work when the others failed. Was it the new clinic? Was it the acupuncture? Was is the changes in my diet? Or was it some other factor -- like the hand of God -- that we will never understand? This will remain a mystery forever. All I know is that when Pete and I flew home after undergoing our last and final IVF (but before we knew for sure that we were pregnant) we both looked at each other and agreed that if it didn't work, it wasn't meant to be. We had truly done everything humanly possible and we could have no regrets. At that point, we turned our fate over to God.
This is exactly how I feel about the changes that I am making today. I don't know what the outcome of this crazy life journey is going to be, but I do know that I don't ever want to look back with any regrets. I can't bear the thought of having my cancer come back and having to explain to my children that I could have possibly done something to prevent it. If this is my time to go, I want my children to know that I went out kicking and screaming and fighting!! I want my husband to see with his own two eyes how I love him with all my heart and how much I love the life that we have created together and how I am willing to do anything, anything to get this cancer out of our lives. The stakes that I am facing right now are as high as they get: will I live through this cancer or won't I? While there is much that is unknown, what I do know is that there are some things that I can control (such as diet, exercise, acupuncture, following the treatment plan laid out by my doctors, etc). And in the end, if making these changes doesn't provide me the outcome for which I am hoping and praying, then maybe it wasn't meant to be. After I have done everything I can humanly do, I must turn my fate over to God.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
More Info on Sugar
There are basically two things that I have given up in my new "cancer diet" which I still really, really miss: sugar and Diet Coke.
The Diet Coke one is pretty easy. There is no way in the world, no matter how I twist things around in my mind, that I can ever justify having soda. I don't think that there is a more manufactured product on the market -- especially diet soda, which by definition has more artificial ingredients in it!! So I have resigned myself to the fact that I will never drink one again (remember, I am living a life of "no regrets"!).
Sugar has been harder, though. I am completely on board with giving up refined sugar, but have been struggling in the past couple weeks with whether there might be other kinds of sugar that are more natural and, therefore, okay for me to eat (for example, cane sugar). From my research, it sounded like cane sugar was healthier than refined sugar since it hadn't been stripped of it's nutrients. And there are certainly enough treats in the bakery section of Whole Foods that are made with cane sugar -- how bad can it be, right?? Well, unfortunately, I met with my nutritionist this week and she nixed cane sugar as well. It doesn't matter that it has not been refined; it's still not good for the body (caused spikes in insulin levels and hence inflammation in the body). Darn!! And this obviously applies to things made with cane juice as well. For anyone who is being ultra-conscious of their diet (e.g., cancer patients), the only sweeteners that she would approve are something called Stevia (which is actually made from a plant, and can be found in the vitamin section of Whole Foods) or Xylitol (which I know nothing about, but when I do, I'll let you know).
So that's the deal! If you want to follow my hard-core, "no regrets" diet, the only sugars that you can have are Stevia, Xylitol, or naturally-occurring sugars in foods such as fruit, maple syrup, molasses, or brown rice syrup. If you want to be slightly less rigid about your diet, you can also add honey to the mix. And if you are not battling a life-threatening disease like cancer, then feel free to add things made of cane sugar or cane juice as well. Lastly, if you just want to enjoy life and throw caution to the wind, indulge on whatever sugary goodies you like (including all the yummy stuff made from refined sugar). But if you choose to follow this path then you must at least have a bite for me, cause I really, really miss it and if it weren't for this damn cancer I would be joining you!! :)
The Diet Coke one is pretty easy. There is no way in the world, no matter how I twist things around in my mind, that I can ever justify having soda. I don't think that there is a more manufactured product on the market -- especially diet soda, which by definition has more artificial ingredients in it!! So I have resigned myself to the fact that I will never drink one again (remember, I am living a life of "no regrets"!).
Sugar has been harder, though. I am completely on board with giving up refined sugar, but have been struggling in the past couple weeks with whether there might be other kinds of sugar that are more natural and, therefore, okay for me to eat (for example, cane sugar). From my research, it sounded like cane sugar was healthier than refined sugar since it hadn't been stripped of it's nutrients. And there are certainly enough treats in the bakery section of Whole Foods that are made with cane sugar -- how bad can it be, right?? Well, unfortunately, I met with my nutritionist this week and she nixed cane sugar as well. It doesn't matter that it has not been refined; it's still not good for the body (caused spikes in insulin levels and hence inflammation in the body). Darn!! And this obviously applies to things made with cane juice as well. For anyone who is being ultra-conscious of their diet (e.g., cancer patients), the only sweeteners that she would approve are something called Stevia (which is actually made from a plant, and can be found in the vitamin section of Whole Foods) or Xylitol (which I know nothing about, but when I do, I'll let you know).
So that's the deal! If you want to follow my hard-core, "no regrets" diet, the only sugars that you can have are Stevia, Xylitol, or naturally-occurring sugars in foods such as fruit, maple syrup, molasses, or brown rice syrup. If you want to be slightly less rigid about your diet, you can also add honey to the mix. And if you are not battling a life-threatening disease like cancer, then feel free to add things made of cane sugar or cane juice as well. Lastly, if you just want to enjoy life and throw caution to the wind, indulge on whatever sugary goodies you like (including all the yummy stuff made from refined sugar). But if you choose to follow this path then you must at least have a bite for me, cause I really, really miss it and if it weren't for this damn cancer I would be joining you!! :)
Skin Cancer
If someone would have asked me a year ago whether I thought I would ever get cancer, my answer would have been an emphatic "Yes." The only difference is that I have always feared that I would get skin cancer -- colon cancer never crossed my mind!
Like practically every other image-conscious girl growing up in the 80's, I laid out religiously every day in the summer (but only after carefully slathering myself in baby oil, of course!) Once I got to college, I scored what I thought was the "ideal" job working at a tanning salon. This of course allowed me to keep my summer tan going all year-round -- which is quite a feat in Chicago! Now I look back on the pictures of me with a deep tan in the middle of winter and cringe!
Needless to say, now that I am older with a family that I love and children whom I desperately want to watch grow up, I shudder at the thought of how much sun exposure my poor skin has gotten. I could care less about being tan now -- in fact, I see people with a tan and I can't help but think of skin cancer -- and so I have switched to applying sunscreen religiously every morning, seeking out shade, and wearing baseball caps and sunglasses to protect my face.
During the course of chemotherapy, a few strange brown spots appeared on my hands which were really itchy and flaky. Of course, I immediately freaked out and made an appointment with a dermotologist (actually, not just any dermotologist...I begged and pleaded my way in to an appointment with my oncologist's dermotologist -- I figured that if my oncologist trusted her, she was the doctor for me!) Anyway, I had my appointment with her yesterday and it was very eye-opening. First of all, she removed three suspicious moles from my back and neck that she said "are better off my body than on." These were moles that I never thought twice about so I was shocked to hear that she wanted to remove them!! We'll know in a couple weeks whether they are anything to worry about. But even more interesting was the fact that she told me the spots that appeared on my hands were probably pre-cancer spots that reacted to the chemo drugs during my treatment. She explained that the same chemo drug that I was on for my colon cancer (5-FU) is also used to treat skin cancer and so I kind of got a "two for one deal" (her quote exactly!). I am not sure whether to be scared to death of the fact that I obviously had pre-cancerous skin spots or whether I should jump for joy that they got treated by the 5-FU drugs!! Probably a little bit of both.
The really scary thing, though, is that the brown spots appeared in places on my hands where I never would have suspected -- these parts looked completely normal!!! By contrast, I have a ton of freckles and moles all over my body and those are the places that every dermotologist focuses on when I go in for an exam. But how in the world are my doctor and I supposed to know to monitor places that appear completely normal?? Ohhhh, cancer is so evil!!!
I guess the blessing in all of this is that I was able to see with my own eyes the impact of 5-FU. The spots on my hands clearly got fried during treatment and now, since treatment has ended, the spots have slowly healed and gone away. Granted the tumor in my colon is much bigger, more invasive, and more advanced, but if the spots on my hands are any indication, then the Bitch is fading fast.
Like practically every other image-conscious girl growing up in the 80's, I laid out religiously every day in the summer (but only after carefully slathering myself in baby oil, of course!) Once I got to college, I scored what I thought was the "ideal" job working at a tanning salon. This of course allowed me to keep my summer tan going all year-round -- which is quite a feat in Chicago! Now I look back on the pictures of me with a deep tan in the middle of winter and cringe!
Needless to say, now that I am older with a family that I love and children whom I desperately want to watch grow up, I shudder at the thought of how much sun exposure my poor skin has gotten. I could care less about being tan now -- in fact, I see people with a tan and I can't help but think of skin cancer -- and so I have switched to applying sunscreen religiously every morning, seeking out shade, and wearing baseball caps and sunglasses to protect my face.
During the course of chemotherapy, a few strange brown spots appeared on my hands which were really itchy and flaky. Of course, I immediately freaked out and made an appointment with a dermotologist (actually, not just any dermotologist...I begged and pleaded my way in to an appointment with my oncologist's dermotologist -- I figured that if my oncologist trusted her, she was the doctor for me!) Anyway, I had my appointment with her yesterday and it was very eye-opening. First of all, she removed three suspicious moles from my back and neck that she said "are better off my body than on." These were moles that I never thought twice about so I was shocked to hear that she wanted to remove them!! We'll know in a couple weeks whether they are anything to worry about. But even more interesting was the fact that she told me the spots that appeared on my hands were probably pre-cancer spots that reacted to the chemo drugs during my treatment. She explained that the same chemo drug that I was on for my colon cancer (5-FU) is also used to treat skin cancer and so I kind of got a "two for one deal" (her quote exactly!). I am not sure whether to be scared to death of the fact that I obviously had pre-cancerous skin spots or whether I should jump for joy that they got treated by the 5-FU drugs!! Probably a little bit of both.
The really scary thing, though, is that the brown spots appeared in places on my hands where I never would have suspected -- these parts looked completely normal!!! By contrast, I have a ton of freckles and moles all over my body and those are the places that every dermotologist focuses on when I go in for an exam. But how in the world are my doctor and I supposed to know to monitor places that appear completely normal?? Ohhhh, cancer is so evil!!!
I guess the blessing in all of this is that I was able to see with my own eyes the impact of 5-FU. The spots on my hands clearly got fried during treatment and now, since treatment has ended, the spots have slowly healed and gone away. Granted the tumor in my colon is much bigger, more invasive, and more advanced, but if the spots on my hands are any indication, then the Bitch is fading fast.
Ted Koppel Cancer Special
I am not sure that I have the emotional strength necessary to watch this program (it touches a little too close to home for me), but I have heard great things about it, so if you get a chance please check it out and then you can all give me the "filtered" version of what was said...
Koppel Takes an Intimate Look at 'Living with Cancer'
More than 10 million Americans are living with cancer. As early detection has become more prevalent, and as treatments have become more effective, many cancer survivors are finding that they can treat their cancer as a chronic disease. This Sunday, May 6, at 8 PM (ET/PT) Discovery Channel will present a special 3-hour broadcast of KOPPEL ON DISCOVERY dedicated to the discussion of living with cancer, with a special simulcast on Discovery Health Channel.
In a live town meeting from One Discovery Place, Ted Koppel will be joined by Elizabeth Edwards, wife of presidential candidate John Edwards; Lance Armstrong, seven-time Tour de France champion; and Leroy Sievers, Koppel's longtime executive producer and friend — each of whom will discuss their experience with coping with a cancer diagnosis. The panel will interact with an audience comprised entirely of people living with cancer, their loved ones, and the professionals who care for them. Immediately prior to the town meeting, Discovery Channel will broadcast a series of Koppel's conversations with Sievers and Armstrong.
As colleagues for more than 15 years, Koppel and Sievers have covered news events in hotspots around the world, including the war zones of Kosovo, Somalia and Iraq. They are also neighbors and close friends. Six years ago, Sievers was diagnosed with colon cancer and was treated successfully. In December of 2005, doctors discovered that the cancer had recurred, spreading to Sievers' brain and lungs. Shortly after the diagnosis, he agreed to allow Koppel to document his battle with the disease. In KOPPEL ON DISCOVERY: Living with Cancer Koppel and Sievers discuss what it's like to face the prospect of dying, as well as the highs and lows that come with living with cancer.
Sievers recounts how cancer has affected his personal relationships, his professional life, and simple day-to-day activities. He also jokes that cancer has been his greatest career move yet — throughout the program, Sievers reads from his popular blog on NPR.org, "My Cancer," through which he has created a unique and expanding online community.
In his discussion with Koppel, Armstrong speaks candidly and even credits cancer with contributing to the full, rich life that he leads today. Looking back on his 1996 diagnosis, Armstrong recalls the pain of watching his mother react to the heartbreaking news that her only child had a 50/50 chance of surviving cancer. He describes the grueling nature of the chemotherapy he received, and reflects on the competition that arose between him and his cancer, as well as his triumphant return to professional cycling.
Don't miss this moving and important evening Sunday, May 6 at 8 PM (ET/PT) on Discovery Channel and Discovery Health Channel.
Koppel Takes an Intimate Look at 'Living with Cancer'
More than 10 million Americans are living with cancer. As early detection has become more prevalent, and as treatments have become more effective, many cancer survivors are finding that they can treat their cancer as a chronic disease. This Sunday, May 6, at 8 PM (ET/PT) Discovery Channel will present a special 3-hour broadcast of KOPPEL ON DISCOVERY dedicated to the discussion of living with cancer, with a special simulcast on Discovery Health Channel.
In a live town meeting from One Discovery Place, Ted Koppel will be joined by Elizabeth Edwards, wife of presidential candidate John Edwards; Lance Armstrong, seven-time Tour de France champion; and Leroy Sievers, Koppel's longtime executive producer and friend — each of whom will discuss their experience with coping with a cancer diagnosis. The panel will interact with an audience comprised entirely of people living with cancer, their loved ones, and the professionals who care for them. Immediately prior to the town meeting, Discovery Channel will broadcast a series of Koppel's conversations with Sievers and Armstrong.
As colleagues for more than 15 years, Koppel and Sievers have covered news events in hotspots around the world, including the war zones of Kosovo, Somalia and Iraq. They are also neighbors and close friends. Six years ago, Sievers was diagnosed with colon cancer and was treated successfully. In December of 2005, doctors discovered that the cancer had recurred, spreading to Sievers' brain and lungs. Shortly after the diagnosis, he agreed to allow Koppel to document his battle with the disease. In KOPPEL ON DISCOVERY: Living with Cancer Koppel and Sievers discuss what it's like to face the prospect of dying, as well as the highs and lows that come with living with cancer.
Sievers recounts how cancer has affected his personal relationships, his professional life, and simple day-to-day activities. He also jokes that cancer has been his greatest career move yet — throughout the program, Sievers reads from his popular blog on NPR.org, "My Cancer," through which he has created a unique and expanding online community.
In his discussion with Koppel, Armstrong speaks candidly and even credits cancer with contributing to the full, rich life that he leads today. Looking back on his 1996 diagnosis, Armstrong recalls the pain of watching his mother react to the heartbreaking news that her only child had a 50/50 chance of surviving cancer. He describes the grueling nature of the chemotherapy he received, and reflects on the competition that arose between him and his cancer, as well as his triumphant return to professional cycling.
Don't miss this moving and important evening Sunday, May 6 at 8 PM (ET/PT) on Discovery Channel and Discovery Health Channel.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Vitamin D
I just read an important article (in a very reputable cancer magazine) about Vitamin D that I wanted to share, since the info pertains to everyone...Here are excerpts from the article:
Vitamin D isn't technically a vitamin, since it's produced in the body as a result of exposure to sunlight ("vitamins" are essential to life, but by definition can be obtained only outside of the body, through diet or supplements). It's only when we don't get enough sun that our bodies don't make enough vitamin D and we need to get it from other sources. But while one of the main dietary sources of vitamin D, milk, is fortified with enough vitamin D to prevent the bone disease rickets in children, milk and other dietary sources alone -- even multivitamins -- don't provide enough vitamin D to help prevent cancer. And new findings are showing that vitamin D actually does play a very important role in the prevention of cancer by acting as a sentinel to help regulate cell growth and prevent a cell from becoming malignant. According to Boston University Medical Center researcher Michael Holick, PhD, MD "You need adequate vitamin D level throughout your entire life...Any time you become vitamin-D deficient, you put yourself at increased risk of potentially developing a malignancy later in life because you've lost the policing ability of vitamin D to help keep cell growth in check."
The prescription? Sensible sun exposure for your skin type, plus vitamin D supplements. The payback? Greatly reduced risk of colon, breast, prostate and other cancers. Furthermore, other studies have implicated vitamin D in improving the survival rates for colon, breast, endometrial and lung cancers, among others. In a study of health professionals published last year by the Journal of the National Cancer Institute, men with the highest blood levels of vitamin D had about two-thirds the risk of dying from cancer -- and even more dramatic protection from cancers of the digestive system.
So how much vitamin D should we each be getting? Relying on dietary sources alone probably won't work to get your vitamin D levels high enough. There is essentially no vitamin D naturally occurring in our diet and very few foods are fortified with vitamin D. For example, milk or orange juice fortified with vitamin D have only about 100 International Units in a glass. By comparison, Holick recommends that each person get 1000-2000 units per day. Sun exposure is the most effective way to make vitamin D, although it's important to keep in mind that sunscreen blocks the same wavelengths of light that help synthesize vitamin D. And so, it's a bit challenging to balance sun exposure for the sake of vitamin D against the use of sunscreen to avoid skin cancer. Therefore, the researchers in the article recommend modest amounts of sunscreen-free sun exposure each day coupled with taking a high-dose vitamin D supplement each day (1000-2000 units). The good news is that taking high doses of vitamin D in the form of a supplement will never be too much -- even if you get outside a lot in the summertime, the body knows how much you're making in your skin and it destroys any excess.
Out of curiosity after reading this article, I went to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Vitamin D supplements that my nutritionist, Sharon, has had me on since my diagnosis. They contain 2000 IU per tablet. Hmmmmm...I knew she was good!!! So get yourself to your nearest health food store and buy the best quality D vitamins that you can find. And take them religiously!!!
Vitamin D isn't technically a vitamin, since it's produced in the body as a result of exposure to sunlight ("vitamins" are essential to life, but by definition can be obtained only outside of the body, through diet or supplements). It's only when we don't get enough sun that our bodies don't make enough vitamin D and we need to get it from other sources. But while one of the main dietary sources of vitamin D, milk, is fortified with enough vitamin D to prevent the bone disease rickets in children, milk and other dietary sources alone -- even multivitamins -- don't provide enough vitamin D to help prevent cancer. And new findings are showing that vitamin D actually does play a very important role in the prevention of cancer by acting as a sentinel to help regulate cell growth and prevent a cell from becoming malignant. According to Boston University Medical Center researcher Michael Holick, PhD, MD "You need adequate vitamin D level throughout your entire life...Any time you become vitamin-D deficient, you put yourself at increased risk of potentially developing a malignancy later in life because you've lost the policing ability of vitamin D to help keep cell growth in check."
The prescription? Sensible sun exposure for your skin type, plus vitamin D supplements. The payback? Greatly reduced risk of colon, breast, prostate and other cancers. Furthermore, other studies have implicated vitamin D in improving the survival rates for colon, breast, endometrial and lung cancers, among others. In a study of health professionals published last year by the Journal of the National Cancer Institute, men with the highest blood levels of vitamin D had about two-thirds the risk of dying from cancer -- and even more dramatic protection from cancers of the digestive system.
So how much vitamin D should we each be getting? Relying on dietary sources alone probably won't work to get your vitamin D levels high enough. There is essentially no vitamin D naturally occurring in our diet and very few foods are fortified with vitamin D. For example, milk or orange juice fortified with vitamin D have only about 100 International Units in a glass. By comparison, Holick recommends that each person get 1000-2000 units per day. Sun exposure is the most effective way to make vitamin D, although it's important to keep in mind that sunscreen blocks the same wavelengths of light that help synthesize vitamin D. And so, it's a bit challenging to balance sun exposure for the sake of vitamin D against the use of sunscreen to avoid skin cancer. Therefore, the researchers in the article recommend modest amounts of sunscreen-free sun exposure each day coupled with taking a high-dose vitamin D supplement each day (1000-2000 units). The good news is that taking high doses of vitamin D in the form of a supplement will never be too much -- even if you get outside a lot in the summertime, the body knows how much you're making in your skin and it destroys any excess.
Out of curiosity after reading this article, I went to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Vitamin D supplements that my nutritionist, Sharon, has had me on since my diagnosis. They contain 2000 IU per tablet. Hmmmmm...I knew she was good!!! So get yourself to your nearest health food store and buy the best quality D vitamins that you can find. And take them religiously!!!
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