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Had my second colonoscopy last month (pretty sure I’ll be getting one annually for the foreseeable future) and it was a most delightful little romp.

Yes, I’m kidding, but not entirely.  If you’ve ever had one yourself or read my entry about my first colonoscopy, you know the worst part is the prep.  My test was scheduled for the Tuesday after MLK (Mon)Day - yes, the day after the snow sculptures and my morning spin w/JoJo!! -  so I couldn’t eat all day.   AT 7pm Monday night I had to drink a bottle and a half of magnesium citrate.  What followed was an endless series of trips to the bathroom.

The next bottle and a half of magnesium citrate is to be drunk 5 hours before your test.  Mine was scheduled for 7:30am, so after some napping (interrupted by so many potty breaks it’s hard to call what I did “sleep”) I got up at 2:30am to finish my dose.  More endless trips to the potty.  [Word to the wise, if you’re lying down, you’re in the midst of this prep,  and you feel like you have some gas to release, don’t fart.  It’s not just gas.]

My dear Chris wakes up and drove me to the hospital at 6:30 even though he’d only returned from his gig Monday night at 3am.  What a champ.

Mine was the first appointment of the day so the waiting room was empty.  Colonoscopies don’t take very long, so once I was settled in, Chris commandeered a small couch for himself.  Now I’ll skip to the funny parts.

Cut to exam room.  First of all, the nurse and I are riffing on some 70’s thing or other and she says “you’re too young to know that!”  Hello?  She’s in front of the computer screen displaying my vitals.  She can see exactly how old I am.  I remind her my age and she says she misread the screen and  “wow, you look so young!”  I should be used to this, but I still love being identified as 10 years younger than I am.   For some reason it hasn’t lost its charm.

What they administer for a colonoscopy is called waking anesthesia.   My nurse explained this to me more clearly this time; what the drug does is disrupt your short term memory.  Essentially they give you a rufi.    They gave Roofie a rufi.  As the drug starts kicking in I’m feeling very relaxed and happy.  The last thing I remember my nurse or doctor saying is something about how I did a good job with my prep.  Woo hoo!!

I regain consciousness  as the nurse is wheeling me into the recovery room.   She’s singing “I’m so glad we had this time together…”  I’m all, “Just to have a laugh or sing a song….. Wait.   Why are you singing that?!  Isn’t that Carol Burnett?”  The nurse tells me she’s singing it because I was singing it.  During the exam. (!!!)  Well I’ll be damned.  I have a faint glimmer of a memory of doing so and realize I, ever the comedienne, was making light of what was going on.  Which is to say I was joking about how the time flew by while they maneuvered a camera-equipped rod up my ass and it’d likely be another year till I saw them again.  Bright side indeed.

As I’m giggling about that and she lets me know I can’t leave till I fart.  A lot of air goes up the colon during the exam you need to release it.   A few minutes go by and I’m making some noise and resting comfortably.  They wheel another patient past me and into the recovery room next door.  I hear them explain again the need to pass gas and the fella asks about smell.  His nurse lets him know it won’t smell - if it did the nurses would have a very hard time working that corridor.  She walks down the hall and moments later I hear him let a loud one rip.  I start losing it as I start imagining the entire hallway lined w/unlit, curtain-separated cubbies all issuing forth the brass section.  Awesome.

When it’s time for me to leave, it’s only 9 or so in the morning.  I woozily get dressed and am led to the now-full waiting room to find Chris curled up on his little sofa fast asleep.  He comes to startled to find so many people have materialized all around him and is suddenly rather self-conscious.  He described himself as feeling like a hobo - the only thing missing being a blanket made of newspapers.  We make our way out of the hospital’s labyrinth to go home and go back to sleep.

Had another PET scan and the results look good. My oncologist, Dr. Jain, doesn’t think I need another scan for 6 months, which is a huge relief. The plan had been to get one every 3 months. Yikes. I didn’t used to mind them so much, but now…? The fatty contrast liquid they have me drink 3 hours prior to exam time makes me gag to even think about. It comes in a dark grey pull-top travel shampoo container and it’s like drinking wintergreen flavored Wesson oil. Readers of my blog know I am not a vomiter, but man, this time I came so-so-so-close.

It was a good thing I decided to take the day off, even though my exam was done and I was out of the hospital by 11am. I’ve always had a sensitive stomach; this intensified everything. I got a lot of reading done in my bathroom that day…. yeah, WOO.

Speaking of which, Dr. Jain also wants me to get another colonoscopy fairly soon. No one told me getting cancer would be this much fun!! Who needs amusement parks and roller coasters? Who needs caramel apples and hot dogs? And I’ve had my blood taken so often I don’t even flinch or wince when they stick me with the needle. I am hardcore, yo. HARD-CORE.

Some updates:

I didn’t audition to teach group exercise at my gym. I realized I was overburdening myself. I was feeling supremely half-assed about my routine and my presentation; the whole enchilada. Nothing worse than going into a situation like that and not being confident, especially when you’re trying to motivate people to get excited about jumping around.

So I bagged it and plan to possibly audition this Fall.

That show with SuperGenius didn’t happen. Due to the new management/ownership (not sure which) of the club, the night, as Mike put it, shifted underneath them. There will be a show, though. I’ll post the date as soon as it’s confirmed.

The bruise on my left knee died down mostly. The included picture is from last week at my desk at work. I wanted to show the slow progression. Now it’s a mere shadow of its former self and I have a big ugly friend for it on my right calf that I got from my scooter. No, not from falling but from closing it up and accidentally letting it fall against my calf. Didn’t hurt so much when it happened, but the bruise has certainly lasted a while. I had others, too, so I was referring to my legs as BruiseFest 2008.

My biggest recent news (and best) was last Wednesday when a nurse from BIDMC called me to schedule my port removal. Could I come in either 9am or 12pm on Friday? So soon?! Uh, yeah, OK, I’ll take the nooner. I thought, hells yeah, I can take Friday off after our show at TOAD on Thursday. We were going on late, so, perfect!

I didn’t, however, consider the fact that if I couldn’t take aspirin or anything because of its blood thinning effects, I would not be able to drink, either. Eff! Not a single shot, nary a beer nor mixed drink, nor a lovely glass of wine. NOTHING to take the nervousness of performing away.

Well. That was an interesting realization.

All in all the show went very well. I’ll have it all better organized next time. I didn’t know Thursday night was a 2am night at TOAD. [And the hits keep comin’!! ] Seriously, though, I think we all had a great time, I know I had a blast playing with our seven (yes, 7) piece band on and around that teensy stage. It was great to again have the opportunity to play with all the guys in Phil’s band, that is, Nate, Jefferson and Joe Klompus.

Not to mention we had a great crowd. It was a very attentive listening audience. I fear my lack of calming fluid allowed me to insert too much of my “babble filler” between songs. Totally unnecessary and silly. This is something I am working against all the time, honestly. I have this overwhelming need to make sure everyone in the room is comfortable or something, the constant diplomat or ambassador or whatever, and it’s stupid. People don’t come to our shows to hear my useless offhand comments. The chorus in our song “Where We Left Off” is about that, actually. “Silence so they say, words a breath away, I will hold it in, I’ll find my way.”

ANYhoo, the audience was gracious and friendly and awesome despite my awkward verbal fumbling between songs.

No sleep till Brooklyn, that is to say 3AM, but I didn’t have to be at the hospital till 11:30. My friend Terri drove me, which was a huge relief and meant I’d get to spend some quality time with her. Since it only took about 30 minutes to get that device out of me I was able to show her the room on the 9th floor where I got all my chemotherapy drugs infused. She told me it depressed her to think of me in there. I said not to worry, it’s all over. And I’m a lucky, lucky, LUCKY girl. In fact, she’s one of the reasons for this. All of my friends make me feel incredibly lucky and happy. I do need to say, though, there’s something about TerTer. (And JoJo, too, actually. I could write at LEAST one full blog entry about each of them….) It’s as though we were destined and meant to meet and be in each other’s lives.

After the hospital we stopped by Terri’s place in Central Square - finally. We’ve known each other for… 2 or 3 years now and I’d never been there. Really only got to see the first floor and her office in the basement, but I was very impressed. Great space, layout and decor.

Next, we gathered up her neighbor and friend, Johanna, and went to Sound Bites. You can prolly guess what I ordered - thank goodness they serve breakfast till 3pm there! They each wanted to get some plants and things, so we went to Mahoney’s in Winchester. I got some cool, color-saturated and trippy close-up flower shots w/my cellphone camera. Then to my favorite part of the day, I got us each a cupcake and we played Scattergories at my place for a couple hours. It was fantastic. I had forgotten how wonderful and hilarious that game is/can be. It was a blast.

Of course, it was a long-ass day. I watched my Ghost Whisperer season finale (gripping!) and headed over to the Gearan’s place to babysit till 2am. That’s right. But I didn’t go to the gym all weekend because though I felt no pain during the removal procedure, the area was incredibly (enormously!) sore and throbbing. No way I was gonna do decline push-ups, jumping jacks, dancey step class moves or lift weights. I took it easy. And I decided not to feel guilty about it.

Do you want to know anything about the procedure? Only 30 minutes? What did they do? Well, they gave me a painful shot to numb the area and then cut in. Yes, local anesthesia, not general. I couldn’t see much; breathing on it would invite the possibility of infection and it didn’t occur to me to ask for a mirror. Would have helped, I bet.

At one point I did feel some pain along with the pressure so the doctor gave me another shot and all was well. He didn’t let me keep the device. Evidently the hospital considers it biohazardous material. This occurred to me beforehand, but I had to ask.

I’d forgotten my real camera, so I took a cellphone picture. Because of its low resolution this blog won’t accept it. Snobby blog.

Finishing chemo last September was the biggest hurtle or mile marker in this “battle,” but it must be said that despite the brevity of the procedure, having this last vestige of my cancer removed feels like a big deal.

Today is Valentine’s Day.

One year ago today we were getting a bit of a blizzard in Boston.

One year ago tonight I was having surgery to remove what turned out to be a cancerous tumor on my colon. Happy Anniversary to me!!

I feel a sense of real accomplishment that I made it through last year and feel so strong and healthy. And I’d like to extend a humongous THANK YOU to everyone who reached out to me and helped me in that difficult time. You know who you are, I hope. And a special thank you to Todd. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be where I am today without him.

In keeping with the name of this blog (and in staying true to myself), I’ve written a lot about the things that make me happy. Things that I enjoy doing, seeing, hearing, even smelling. The list is so long it makes me wonder what it is that makes me unhappy, actually. I find it curious to feel down or sad in general. This is different from being upset or pissed off about something specific, or feeling sad for a loss of some kind.

But sometimes I wake up and my mood is low. Maybe it’s so bad I don’t want to get out of bed. Do you have those days? Doesn’t everyone? So what do you do?

One of my ‘tricks’ is to try to focus on a goal for the day, something I wanted to accomplish and that will give me impetus to up and atom.

Other times the very idea that I have no obligations that day, that the next 12 hours or so are ALL MINE is enough. Of course, I’ll then get up, make my coffee, and make a list. Or check the list that’s already in play and see what I want to do next. I’m not much for lying idle. Which can be a handicap if all I really want to do is lie around reading. My mind will fight with itself saying that’s not actually doing anything, but it is. IT IS, dammit.

But I feel very fortunate. I am able to find enormous pleasure and joy in the smallest things. I feel that I somehow allow things to give me joy that might otherwise go unnoticed.

What do I mean? Well, there are the many various things I’ve mentioned before like singing, laughing (my top two favorite things to do ever), fun pens, stationery, perfume, hiking, riding my bike, riding my scooter, frisbee, bowling, reading, talking with friends, playing games, god the list goes on…. Those are all fairly normal, though, run-of-the-mill pleasures. What about the others?

Since lists also make me happy, I’ll make a list of other, less obvious and more specific things that make me happy:

• That moment I notice it’s snowing out. My heart still skips a beat every single time.
• When I witness a random act of kindness on the street or the subway or a restaurant. Warms my heart.
• Watching birds fly in their flocks and shift direction. It must be so amazing to fly. I love it when they look like they’re dropping, or dive bombing, then swoop and fly upwards.
• Feeling like I couldn’t possibly do one more rep of an exercise, but doing it anyway.
• Looking at maps, whether or not I’m using them to find my way, maps can be absolutely enchanting to me.
• Writing a song - there’s no feeling of accomplishment quite like it.
• How when I’m walking or riding the bus, the way the scenery takes on the mood of the music I’m listening to, so it’s like I’m watching a movie with a soundtrack.
• When I read a line or a paragraph in a book that’s so right on that I am compelled to read it aloud, whether I’m alone or not.
• Certain specific songs, for sure, but also specific moments in songs that may only be 3 seconds long, but that I am excited for and can’t wait to hear and sing along or gesticulate with. (This one could be a blog entry all its own. Maybe it will be.)
• The ability to fit everything into my freezer even when it seems there’s no way it’ll all get in there.
• Managing to get everything done I wanted to in a day.
• Playing along with Says You and The Will Shortz Game on NPR.
• Walking home just as people are turning on the lights in their houses and I can see inside a little bit. Could be the voyeur in me, but I just love seeing how other people decorate.
• Miniature versions of full-size products, all kinds. You name it.
• Clean laundry - everything about it.
• Crazy Japanese characters like Domokun and Mashimaro, among many, many others. Domokun’s description is so hilarious, it says “Domokun is a big square of a monster who loves to watch TV, but can’t shut his mouth.” Does his mouth being open mean he can’t shut up so he can’t hear the TV? Otherwise why would they mention the two things that seemingly have nothing to do with each other? This tickles me like you can’t believe.
• Finding the perfect harmony part.
• Watching the clouds as I do sit ups in class. I always try to get a spot by the window. Actually, clouds clouds clouds. I love them. A completely cloudless day bugs me. Seriously bugs me.
• When Lucy sees a birdie outside the window and does that rat-a-tat-tat nyahk nyahk mrow-mrow thing. It’s so weird - I love it!
• Storms and the smell of rain.

What makes you happy?

with Gary Gnu!!

This morning I finally met with my Oncologist, Dr. Jain, and his assistant Dr. Elizabeth Buchbinder. No dread because I knew the most they’d do to me was take blood. Which they did at the end and did so to check the level of something in my blood that would indicate …. man, I don’t know. But they wanted to make sure the levels hadn’t risen. I try to pay attention, I’m now thinking I ought to write more down.

After my vitals I sat down with Beth and we talked. This was more them checking in with me than the other way around. She asked if I’d been nauseous, dizzy, any stomach aches, numbness in my fingers or toes, and as usual I said no, no, no and no. I stopped taking the nausea medication they gave me long before I finished chemotherapy. I honestly forgot to take it because I didn’t feel sick. Said it before and I’ll surely say it again, but how did I get so lucky?

Once Dr. Jain came in we discussed what to expect in the future. I made an appointment for another PET Scan in March and a week later another meeting with the docs to discuss. At that point we can talk about removing the porta-cath. I’m fine with this. The port is unsightly and once in a while I bump it and hurt myself, but I’d prefer to leave it in as long as necessary. The thought of surgery to remove it is one thing, but there’s always a possibility of recurrence and slight as that chance is, I’d rather not have to have more surgery to put another in.

Dr. Jain wants to see me every three months for the next two years. It’s so strange to me to think ahead that far. With most cancer they say you’re in the clear (for the most part) after five years. Wow. I still can’t believe this all happened, you wanna know the truth. It’s very surreal. When I got to the hospital one of the receptionists said to me, “I know you, right? You look familiar.” I said, “Yeah, I had six months of chemotherapy here.” “OH, yeah. Hi.” Funny, I mean, I only finished at the end of August.

I’m supposed to call them if anything comes up before the three months out appointment. Dr. Jain saw my vitals and said he wants me to gain weight. HA, yeah, right. Not planning on that and told him so. Didn’t tell him the weight on the chart was with all my winter clothes on, including my boots. Mostly he just doesn’t want me to start losing weight rapidly, but I would see that as a sign of something dangerous, too, so we’re on the same page.

I had to go to work afterwards and was slammed from 12:30PM on, which certainly made the day fly. Beth called me around 2 to let me know my blood came back with levels of whatever they were looking for even lower than last time. Good news all around.

Yes, white, as in snow. Mostly white, that is. It’s getting pretty slushy and dirty right now, but we got a big snowstorm up here on Thursday. My office closed at 2PM, even (said in the voice of Snagglepuss), which doesn’t happen very often. We’ve had all manner of “disaster” in my office and haven’t closed. We’ve been burdened with bizarre floods due to pipes bursting and the like and kept the office open, despite the real possibility of getting sick from mold, etc,…

Figures, too, that I had just recorded the outgoing holiday message for Christmas. Closing early meant I had to record another message over that one and re-record the Xmas msg on Friday. But that’s a small price to pay; I’ll take what I can get regarding closing early.

Went home to eat a little bit and then back out to the gym to lift weights and do double spin. Yee-haw! There’s a special joy to be had riding an indoor cycle and sweating like a maniac whilst watching snow fall outside. Beauty. And there was also a certain pleasure to be had watching cars get stuck. Schadenfraude.

By Friday the snow had been cleared from the streets and the office was open. I made my way over to Beth Israel for my last meeting of 2007 with my Oncologist. Was running late for my 9AM appointment, thanks to T delays (the green line is an embarrassment in my eyes) and slush avoidance, but the nurse/receptionist told me Dr. Jain was running late, too. He wouldn’t be in till 10:30. Go have some breakfast and come back, she suggested. Honey, I had oatmeal before I left and I have to get to work. Even if he were to arrive when she said, no way he’d see me right at 10:30. So I rescheduled. And went to work. My last day and then a week’s vacation.

The gym was closed that night for their holiday party so I got home and immediately got on my trainer. Forty minutes of that, quick shower and a relaxing me’vening. Made myself some pasta and watched my guilty pleasure, Ghost Whisperer, and then a Sopranos. I’m finally watching the 2nd part of the last season via Netflix. Nice.

So, Saturday was bitter cold. I don’t think I even stepped outside until I left for the show at the Lizard at just before 7. I slept late for me (9 or so), did laundry, did a workout at home using resistance bands, did my vocal warm-up, put together stuff for the gig and still somehow let time get ahead of me enough that I had to rush out the door to catch my bus to the venue. Dur. There seem to be some unalterable personality traits, don’t there? I am a putterer. It’s way way WAY too easy for me to waste time. I’d win a wasting time contest. And a procrastinating contest. Maybe I should organize one of those. … I’ll do it later.

Show, the show, how’d the show go? It went great, actually. Got there with plenty of time to relax beforehand. I ordered my sliders, a shot of jager and chilled with Phil, Frank, Tahaney and Joe. Once Todd arrived we did a little harmony rehearsing in the back room. Then we went on at 9:30PM sharp.

I want to thank all of my gym girlfriends who came out. It was fantastic to see such a great turnout, and they brought friends, too! Jo, Deborah, Jenn, Terri, thank you all! My clinical nurse from BIDMC, Sue, came to the show, too! She brought three friends! It was so great to see her, especially not at the hospital. HA. She’s so awesome - her bright, pretty, smiling face and upbeat attitude really helped me through my treatments. I liked her the moment I met her; we just hit it off right away.

The band did a tremendous job, they dressed so nicely!! and the performance felt just about right on. Of course, I’m my own biggest critic and a bit of a perfectionist, so I’ll always find things that need improvement. Considering we had only ONE rehearsal, this show was a real achievement. I didn’t feel nervous, which may have something to do with the jager, but it didn’t hurt that I’ve been a lot more diligent about preparation. Not feeling nervous was amazing. I was able to pay close attention to the reactions of the audience and tune in to both sides of the dial, as it were.

We had some time at the end, so Todd and I did a cover. It went well, if I do say so myself. There was a moment of … I’m not sure what to call it. We started the song and people were having their conversations in spots in the room, which is fine and perfectly understandable. But as we got into the 2nd verse there was a change in the room. Suddenly it was like every-single-person-in-the-room was with us. It was fucking amazing. It was palpable and I was so moved it was like an out of body experience. The words kept coming out of my mouth, but I didn’t even feel like I was the one singing. There is nothing in this world that can match that feeling and I am now determined to feel it again. And again. It was like… the room reached ecstacy, but in the calmest, most serene sense.

I’ve had that feeling before here and there. When Todd and I would busk in Harvard Square there were times we had a nice big group watching/listening and that unity seemed to happen. Especially when we’d do Angel by Sarah McLachlan. In any case, I am now addicted. This could be my new drug.

My apologies for no pictures - my camera died recently and I’ve been meaning to either get it fixed or get a new one. It was such a good show I do wish I had photos…. OH and the snow waited till about midnight or so to start to fall again.

I spent the rest of my weekend as I’d antipated; I got a lot done and worked out and watched New England knock the wind out of Buffalo. As it turns out I worked out a little harder than I thought. I did my run/walk then worked on my legs with weights, you know, lunges, squats, etc,… Well, let me tell you, yesterday I was in no small amount of pain. I was making ouchie noises when I got up, when I sat down, when I walked around. It was bad.

I wasn’t sure I should even go to spin last night, but I know active recovery is best so I went. Things were going fine despite my legs being stubbornly stiff. Tra la la, tra la la… Nearing the end of class we move into a sprint and *SPANG* I get a charlie horse in my calf !!!! The pain was incredible and my calf throbbed like it was attached to electricity. I pulled my foot out of the clip and massaged my leg for a minute, then got right back into it. What else could I do?

Worked on upper body afterwards and went home knowing today was going to have to be an off-day, no running. So now I’m off by a full week, but my goal is still in my sights. All day today my legs and butt have still been killing me.

To add insult to injury I had to have my port flushed this afternoon. Not like it’s a terrible inconvenience, just annoying. And a little bit painful.

One good thing, my friend, and work IT specialist, Skip, came over after work and helped me re-set up the bike trainer he’d recommended I get. Yes, re-set up. I did it all by myself over a month ago and things didn’t seem right; I knew I’d effed it up somehow. So now I’ll be able to ride anytime at home, which is most excellent. Thank you, Skip!

Friday morning I had my 2nd mammogram. My first was in May and at the time they saw some extra tissue in my right breast. Since I’d never had a mammogram before they wanted me to get another one in 6 months so they’d have a comparison.

I was nervous. To this point there’s been no sign of my cancer metastasizing, but how can one know for sure? I’ve met with a genetic counselor a few times, my birth parents have filled out a few questionnaires and so far my colon cancer appears to be a fluke. So now every time I have a test of any kind I get uneasy.

Got to the hospital a little late, but I was still the first scan of the morning. My nurse this time, Mimi, was much nicer than the one I got last time. She was quick and didn’t hurt me when she’d adjust my shoulder or press my face against the plexiglass. Yeah, it’s a weird little experience, I tell ya. You have to stand JUST SO or they have to do the scan again. And they really do press and pinch your boob pretty hard. Not pleasant.

Since I was the first scan (and that mini waiting room filled up fast, it did) my results came quickly. And what do you know, the extra tissue they found was just that, extra tissue. No cancer in my breast. Phew! I’ll be meeting with Dr. Jain next month and we’ll discuss when I should have another mammogram, whether I can wait a year or 6 months or 3 months or what. For now, I’m experiencing relief.

Spent the weekend in Haverhill, which, of course, means I got to do a lot of bike riding. I don’t know how I’m going to handle it when it gets all cold and New England-y on me, I think I may need to get some better layering active-wear.

Saturday Todd did a ton of work around the house and was too tired to join me on a ride. He’s been riding on the weekdays and found a new 16 mile route. I mapped that out and added a few extra bits. When I got home from the ride I gmap-pedometered the ride and found I’d done 26 miles. This explained my fatigue, for sure. It was a beautiful route, down 110 into Merrimack and then returning mostly via the road along the river, which changes names about 4 times along the way. After riding by the water I moved back inland and passed a corn maze (ha ha, corn maize?) which I must try, a few farms and the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen. At one end of it is a renovated barn and there’s a round gazebo shaped room at the other end. In the middle is this tower of windows and most of it is painted this insanely gorgeous red. It’s on the market and I was guessing it would go for over a million bucks. Damn.

Sunday I did a slightly different and shorter (15 miles) route, but took many of the same roads. I stopped in front of the beautiful house and picked up a one-sheet description. I was right about the price: $1,150,000. What I didn’t realize, and couldn’t see from the street, was that it’s set on 4 acres, has its own marina big enough to accommodate a 60 foot yacht, an open floor plan, a whirlpool in one of the three bathrooms, a huge deck, 2 fireplaces and a built in bar, TV and sound system in the “great room.” Holy hell, can I pick ‘em or what? my new house

Monday was prep day for Tuesday’s colonoscopy. I had been on a “low residue” diet for a few days, which mostly means refined grains, refined sugars, no nuts or whole grains, etc,… essentially the opposite of what I usually eat. Of course, I supplemented this with an entire bag of Brach’s candy corn - my god, that stuff is effing addictive.

So anyway, on Monday I had to do a liquid diet. I was only allowed water, Gatorade, Sprite and Jell-O, but no red, pink or purple. So I made myself some orange because I’m not partial to lemon and I loathe lime. Whenever I buy gummy bears I go through and throw out all the lime ones before I dig in so there’s no way I can accidentally eat one, like at the movies in the dark.

Liquid diet sounds ok, right? I was hungry and tired, but otherwise fine. At 7PM I had to drink 1.5 bottles of this magnesium citrate, which is a liquid laxative. I was only allowed to get lemon-lime flavor. It was awful. It has some effervescence to it so it tasted like diet 7UP had gone to the dark side and had a sour and pinchy aftertaste that squeezed itself into the area between my cheek and my jaw. shudder….

But I must say, it wasn’t so bad. The laxative kicked in around 11PM and I hung out in the bathroom for a while, something that has become par for the course for me. And considering everything else I’ve been through, it just wasn’t a big deal. Friends had told me horror stories about their colonoscopy experiences, prep-wise, so I was prepared for the worst.

At 3AM or so I drank the other 1.5 bottles, sat in the bathroom a bit more, slept some, got up again, slept some, and got up at 7. My colonoscopy was at 9:30AM, so we left at 8:45 and made it on time. Only waited a few minutes when they called me back and I changed into the usual hospital gear: enormous pants w/string tie, jonny and robe. They took my vitals and asked me the battery of questions I’ve grown used to. The nurse gave me an IV in my hand, let me stop in the bathroom one more time, and had me lie down on the bed in a room.

Another nurse came in and chatted with me about the procedure and told me they’d have a camera at the end of the scope. I could watch the monitor they had in the corner and see the inside of my colon along with the doctor. She reminded me that they don’t put me completely under - what they do is called”waking anesthesia,” meaning it doesn’t completely knock you out. My one friend who had an ok experience with this procedure told me he’s pretty sure he was chatting with the doctor the whole time, but doesn’t remember it.

She had me lay on my side so they’d have easy access - uh, yeah - and then gave me two shots in my IV, a pain reliever and the anesthesia. It worked fast, too. I was already sleepy (no coffee and up all night) so I think I just went out. I don’t have any recollection of anything going up my butt, but I do remember seeing a little on the monitor and the doctor saying “Here’s where they sewed up your sigmoid colon” and me saying, “Oh, neat.” But that’s it. The next thing I was aware of was being wheeled into a recovery room where yet another nurse told me I had 30 more minutes and I could nap a bit if I liked. Yes, I liked.

Twenty minutes later or so I was awake and up and putting my clothes back on. Yes, I was a tad wobbly at this point, but I was fine. Todd and I went directly to Sound Bites so I could eat a nice big breakfast of pancakes, sausage and eggs and drink mucho coffee. All in all, not a terrible experience and if you know you need to get one done, I merely recommend you get a Monday appointment so you only have to miss one day of work. Otherwise, piece of cake.

A number of people have asked me if I’ll be celebrating the end of my treatments and if so, how? I joked with a few friends saying I’d commemorate the event with a new tattoo. I will be doing that soon and I’ve even (finally) decided where to put it. Now I merely need to hone the design. To really celebrate, though, requires travel. There’s something about going somewhere entirely new that marks an event, you know?

Somewhere new. I’ve never been to Montreal. Never been to Quebec, either and both were recommended. I’ve always wanted to visit Chicago as an adult… Thing is I only have 3-4 days to go anywhere and it’d be nice to have more time to explore a new city. We’d make the most of it and have a great time, sure, but I’d like to do something that focuses on my health.

Since we had so much fun Big Sur, CA, hiking sounded great and seemed to fit the bill. I did a bunch of research and got some advice and chose Acadia National Park in Maine. Acadia

Todd and I are driving up on Friday and I can’t wait. It sounds like Acadia has it all: lush, verdant trails on which to hike, ocean views, some rocky climbs and ample biking roads. Win win win. I found a cabin with a fireplace, a full kitchen and outside grill. It’s just up the street from Bar Harbor, so I can get in a little mercantile therapy if necessary. My birth mother, Debbie, suggested a great place for blueberry pancakes, so that’s definitely on the agenda.

Right now I can’t believe it’s over. The chemotherapy and cancer, that is. I can’t get my head around it. I feel like I still have to go back to the hospital on Monday and I don’t. That part is done. There is always more, though.

This month I have a PET Scan and colonoscopy and in November I have another mammogram. I will be meeting with Dr. Jain every three months and possibly undergoing a CT Scan with the same frequency. I’m not having the portocath removed until possibly January or February, so a nurse from Apria will need to come out and flush it monthly. Wonderful.

Cancer is something that can return, we’ve seen it time and time again. I will have to be vigilant and stay on top of my health. People ask me if this has changed my outlook on life, my attitude towards things in general and I’m really not sure. I don’t feel like I’ve changed much, at least not behavior-wise. I eat less meat and more fish (lately all I want is fish, all the time, except breakfast), but that’s it.

Perspective-wise I’m highly attuned to the word cancer in general. I notice every reference to it around me; in the papers, online, and in overheard conversations. I’m in the cancer club forever.

I guess I am more active now than ever and I feel an imperative to keep moving all the time. This is not some analogy for cancer chasing me and needing to keep ahead of it, I swear. I’ve always been a victim of inertia. Simply put, a body at rest stays at rest unless acted upon my outside forces. And a body in motion stays in motion. I feel better when I’m moving, so I have to keep it up, maintain momentum.

This is the only body I’ll get and I’d better take care of it. And appreciate it, even if sometimes in the mirror I do not like it at all. None of us are getting any younger, but if I can help slow time’s effect, I’ll do what I can. And I’ll have as much fun as possible with the effort.