Soul Food

Happy Anniversary to me!!!  Party time!  Excellent!

Party on Wayne.  Party on Garth.

May 2, 2014 marked the one year anniversary of finding out I have cancer.  Party on Lins.

I am healing.  I have transformed my mind, soul, energy, essence, person.

"I am not what has happened to me.  I am what I choose to become."  - Carl Jung

Sometimes I'm so full of sorrow I gasp for breath, clutching anything to retain my balance as the remaining fragments of my heart collapse into one another.  My anguish-satitated chest forgetting the innate processes it's conducted since my conception.   Then, my ever-swinging life pendulum makes it's way in the opposite direction and I'm riddled with conflict as my mind ponders, over and over, a phrase bubbling up time and time again:  having cancer has opened my eyes, opened doors, opened my heart, opened the universe to me.  How pissed am I supposed to be?  For how long?  What if I'm not pissed?  What if I am?  What if it is what it is and I'm okay with that?  What if some days I'm so massively NOT okay I could tear my skin from its bones while my screams penetrate the Earth's core?  What if some days I rejoice because I no longer think and feel how I used to and revel in my own transformation?

Cancer has changed everything.  Every.  Single.  Thing.  I'm living in a bubble.  A rainbow-reflection filled, translucent bubble.  Bubbles are permeable:  people, energy, love come and go.  Sometimes my bubble is clouded.  Sometimes it's dazzling.  Bubbles create more bubbles and spread....

"She didn't try to change the world.  She changed herself and world rose up to meet her."
- Unknown

I'm still me but a new and vastly improved version of me.  My focus has changed.  I used to fixate on things I didn't have.  I now relish in what I do have, EVEN if it's the smallest of things.  When I start to feel sad or down, I immediately think of at least three things I'm grateful for.  My friends... my friends.... my thousands and thousands of friends.  My HUGE family.  Lola.  I am grateful to have such an adorable, cuddly, fat companion.  Sunshine, a day in the park, mountain getaways, walking, Brown, my Wash Park apartment, traveling, green tea, sunshine, yoga, beets....  It's so easy!   Instantly, my mood improves.  I've learned I can and will have an amazing day/week/month just by telling myself so.  I go to bed saying, "Tomorrow will be a good day."  And wake up saying, "Today will be a good day."
And it is.

When I'm stressed about plans working out or something going well, I calm myself by thinking, "Everything will work out."  And it does.

I am learning to love myself and forgive myself.  The body works in such wondrous/mysterious ways.  In the book Anatomy of the Spirit, Dr. Myss' explains how every illness corresponds to a pattern of emotional and psychological stresses, beliefs, and attitudes that have influenced corresponding areas of the human body.  Our emotions and experiences become part of our DNA.  Harboring guilt, shame, resentment towards others and myself is just as toxic as eating McDonalds everyday or smoking 2 packs a day.  Your body is the vessel you're commanding while sailing the great ocean known as life.  Just as ships do not stay pristine their entire lives, nor do our human forms.  Ocean crafts undergo heavy wear;  have dents, bruises, battering and even barnacles- things that have attached themselves for life.  It's so important to be active in creating a safe environment for your body to thrive.  This includes loving yourself and being easy on yourself.

I've learned I'm an introvert, not extremely socially awkward as I'd believed for years.  This has helped with understanding how I used alcohol to ease the discomfort of social situations I didn't have the "energy" for.  This revelation has improved my life dramatically.  Introverts aren't weirdos who hate socializing and stand in the corner during parties.  We're weirdos who need alone time to recharge our "energy."  Extroverts need to be around people to recharge.  According to an amazing book I read called The Intorvert Advantage, by Marti Olsen Laney, Psy.D., introverts only make up around 25% of the population and our society is geared towards extroverts.  Naturally, we're going to feel like something is wrong with us given the situation we live in.  As with all things, there is a spectrum.  This is true for introversion and extroversion.  At any given moment or day, I (and any/all introverts around the world) can land on the spectrum from must-lock-myself-away-couldn't-deal-with-another-person introversion to I-must-chat-with-my-friends-over-a-glass-of-wine-or-I-will-shrivel-up-and-blow-away extroversion.  Comprehending this epiphany contributes to my health greatly.  I now say "No, I just need to be home," when my batteries are drained and I need to recharge.

I have to be careful to paint an honest picture.  I certainly don't walk on golden beams while doves tie silk ribbons in my hair everyday.  I cherish the days it feels so but other days are nothing like a Disney movie.  A few weekends ago, for example, could have been a disaster.  Instead, I choose to make it great...

"I get by with a little help from my friends."  - The Beatles

My usual response to cancer bad news is:  hold up in my house, cry, sleep, cry, read, sleep and emerge 48 hours later feeling vise-pressed before finally breaking the news to friends and family.  This time though, I took a different approach.  Friday night, when my dysfunctional brain cells began to creep thoughts of canceling all plans and heading to my "Lindsey-received-bad-news-hidey-hole," I ignored them.  I drove to my nearly aborted yoga class and remembered why this is my drug of choice.  I followed my emotional cleanse with just a tiny bit of retail therapy, then dinner and dancing with Diane, Amy, and Carly (and their signifiant others).  Edgewater Live brightened the evening as we jammed along with the fellas while they rocked for a good cause.  Saturday, a splendid, sunny, Denver morning, began with coffee on the patio of Stella's with Sarah and Ashley.  I was touched with kismet on my way to the coffee shop, spotting several bikes for sale at a yard sale.  I've been saying how I want a bike and behold!  My wishes were granted.  For a mere seventy American dollars I procured said bicycle, winning the prized possession just in the knick of time.  Earlier, the kind gentleman placed the bike aside for me under the pretense I'd return with greenbacks (I never have cash on me) at the conclusion of my coffee date.  "There is she is!" he exclaimed as I approached, dough in hand.  My bike nearly went to the the open-mouthed, awestruck, and indignant women standing there as I wheeled away my new accessory.  They were certain I wasn't returning... but return I did!

Following my bike purchase I walked around the park a few times and then laid out a blanket to relax.  While the sun drenched my skin in vitamin D, I streamed a yoga podcast to my phone and found my inner peace.  An exquisite day.

I digressed just a bit there and you may be wondering what is the "cancer bad news" I mentioned.  Three days after my meeting with Dr. Eadens, he called with the results of my blood work and MRI.  Ideally, he would have had these results to discuss at my appointment but Kaiser isn't known for being that on top of things.  I don't blame Señior Eadens for how this went down, but I can (and will) make a few suggestions.  First, please don't call me at 6:30 in the evening when you're already out of the office.  I can't return your call.  Second, don't leave a cryptic message, "I've received the results of your gastrin levels and MRI and I want to talk to you about them."  This is not helpful to my state of well-being... to say the least.  That night I tried everything I could think of to calm down-- hot shower, tea, Lola cuddles.  I managed to maintain minimal freak-out mode, sliced my finger open while juicing beets, and returned his call the next day at lunch.

The MRI showed growth in some of the tumors.  One of the tumors grew by half a centimeter and two of them grew by a full centimeter.  There are no new tumors WHICH IS STUPENDOUS.  My gastrin level, the tumor marker we've used as a progress monitor, doubled since my previous blood tests in February.  Although it is far below the highest of close to 5,000, it's still concerning.  As I said, gastrin is the hormone my hormone-secreting neuroendocrine tumors produce.  A normal humans' gastrin level is below 100.  Mine is currently 628, doubled from my post-surgery 300 range.

When the injections of octreotide began, we started at the lowest dose.  Double the flavor, double the fun.  I received my monthly injection at the beginning of May so I went back a week later for another one.  Next month the dose will be doubled.  I'll have another scan and blood work first thing in August and we'll see what those little suckers were up to this summer.


"The pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity.  The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."  -Winston Churchill

Drahota Lives is becoming a nonprofit foundation.  I'm currently drafting our mission statement and devising the business model.  The love shall spread as we hold another "big party" and so much more.  The magnitude of love showered upon me is so great I couldn't possibly govern it all.  It will pass though me/Drahota Lives to others in need.  Stand by for more info on this little project of mine as I get things up and running.  You may be on hold for a bit as I'm traveling this summer and a horrid procrastinator.  In my mind, everything is already up and running.


I am looking at a rainbow spanning the sky as I sit here typing about this amazing day.  I swear I'm not making this up.