The Muppet Man

1978. I was 6 years old and Kenny Rogers appeared in the movie The Gambler. Made no impact in my life, but when he appeared on The Muppet Show one year later with Kermit and Mrs. Piggy...well that was amazing! So in a tribute to the days of innocence and happier times I actually treated myself to a concert last Friday by going and watching The Gambler himself. And can I tell you I could not have gone to something so out of context for me. I drove to Reno, the Silver Legacy, with all it's 80's big bubble lights displaying it's grand ol' style and walked into a room full of Kenny Rogers fans.

Now don't get me wrong, I remember blasting the duet song "Islands In the Steam" with Dolly Parton when I was in about 5th grade, wearing neon number sweaters, headband, and neon rubber bands around my wrist. Madonna and Boy George were making an impression in the world. But why go to Kenny Rogers? Well, perhaps the mountains are starting to rub off on me, I walked into a room full of cowboy hats and boots...big hair and earrings. I was secretly envious and jealous. I wanted to wear a big buckle, I settled for my uggs. I did however have a little problem when to the left of me I sat next to a man that spilled over onto my chair, and then got locked in to my right by a woman in her flannel top, boots, and bright red pointy fingernails (thank goodness she didn't match her husbands big cowboy hat)...I kept thinking in Kenny's words Oh boy! we've got tonight!

Kenny joked through the night saying half of the men had been dragged into the concert by wives because of the romantic songs, the other were Gambler fans. Personally I wanted to hear the following lyrics and bellow them out with every other cowboy in the room....

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold
'em. Know when to walk away, know when to run. You never count your
money, when you're sittin' at the table.There'll be time enough for
countin', when the dealin's done.

At about the 90th minute my eyes and brain started to shut down and I had the overwhelming feeling of just wanting to curl up to the lady to my right, her flannel shirt started to
morph into a warm blankey. The thought of curling up and just laying down on her really
massive shoulder seem so comfortable. It was obviously time to leave. So I saluted Kenny, The Muppet man, and left with him singing one final song: Lady.


Ok, now on a more serious note. I finally got my tumor markers back this afternoon. In 2007 when I had my markers tested they came back and said they were at about 500+. Normal levels are at 30-40. As treatment started and hormonally they shut off estrogen levels in my body they dropped to about 100. So about 5 weeks ago prior to my arrival at the Nevada Center my markers were at 250. 50% of what they had been in 2007. Today they came back at 543.

Not to be totally sarcastic but this is one time when you really need to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em...know when to walk away, know when to run! So for right now we're going to hold 'em. In the world of Oncology, tumor markers go up for two reasons: cancer is spreading or it's dying. Four weeks into my treatments it's very possible that my cancer is exploding and as the cells explode and die they release cancer ooze into the body that cause a spike in the markers. The other alternative is to think this treatment is not working, but that's not a choice.

So we're going to have to wait a few more weeks. Wait till all of the cancer sludge has cleared from my system and hopefully get a result that is 50% less than where I started. So that's the deal Lucille! Other than the wind blowing at full throttle, today was a good day.

The entire staff at the Nevada Center and the room full of patient want to thank Debbie and Bob Spaletto for sending the magazines! In an infusion room the biggest gift you can give somebody is a distraction to everything that is happening - distraction from time, because to be honest with you it goes by so slow. Thanks to Debbie today our entire room, including staff had a distraction as we passed magazines back and forth and men distracted themselves with fantasy's of jetting off in their own private planes, and driving around in Lamborghini's as they flipped through the pages of the Robb Report. From everybody there - Thank you!

XOXOX

Socrates

I've been questioning everything. Everything in life. The choices we make that only later become so clear, the choices we make that seem so clean and simple at the time, but are really wounds that never heal but only fester and sit quietly until they blow up one day with a massive fever reaching into the soul again to remind you of what you cut. Of the choice you made. How life could have have been if you had just seen the true colors of your life's picture? Nothing...I guess it's just life.

As Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living" and that seems to be where I am right now. As a girlfriend of mine said, you can't help but do that about life - but when you're going through this process, seems like you examine everything more so.

The last week have been routine. Nothing major. We wake up every morning at about 7am and we're out of the house by 8:30am and driving down to Carson City. My poor mom, just waits for me, makes me the juice and then talks to me when I'm feeling up for it. Only a mother can pour so much love into the meaningless action of these things. Seems so unfair she has to do this. She's my hero. I now understand where as women we find our strengths there is nobody else I'd rather be with. At 36 it's strange to be living with mom again, and yet it's the safest most wonderful thing I've experienced. Obviously I had no choice, and yet it's been such a blessing. Anybody that has a Latina mom understands this is a relationship like a rose, beautiful yet incredibly dangerous. Latina moms don't back down and they pretty much lovingly tell you to shove it with their smiles, and cooking, or constant picking up after you. I kinda feel like my husband must around me. But it's in a loving way so perhaps it's forgivable. I would not have it any other way....you can't really escape it. We drive back and are at home by 4pm.

I am waiting now to find out what the tumor markers are going to say. I have a meeting with the doctor tomorrow, hopefully they will indicate that the treatment is working. I have faith that it is, but it's hard to say. Currently we're rotating three different chemos, all of which target the lung and breast cancer cells. I don't feel any pain, not the way I had been in the past prior to the treatment, and so i assume that things are slowly repairing themselves.

We've woken up to grey skies with wind and a touch of snow.

Love and miss you all.

PS - My mom is screaming at me right now because she wants me to get up from the computer and take the dog for a walk. We still have another hour to go before we have to leave not to mention it's freezing and rainy! Ahhhgh...Even Duke stares at her from the corner of house making sure he's out of her way.

Furry Eyes and Snow Patches

Wednesday. 8:15am. Vibrate Day.

It's a Vitamin C day. Far away seems last week, a little bump in the road I would say in the scheme of things. In fact time seems to have fast forwarded as last week the mountains and tree tops stretched out in the glory of summer breeze and sunsets in Tahoe...this morning we woke up to winter snow covered mountains.

I left off last Thursday morning, saying "wish me luck". Got no luck, I was in for it. I guess looking back now it's all but a small bump in the road. But at the time I felt like my head was shriveling up into a pea size and my eyes were about to explode. My first bout of nausea overwhelmed me. I have never had nausea from chemo until last Thursday. I hit a fever of 102.2. My poor mother walked back and forth mumbling "maybe we should go to emergency". Somehow I was able to utter the words, "no, can't. Let's just wait". As much as I felt like I was dieing, I also felt that I was going through the process of having cancerous cells explode in my body.

I heard myself saying to myself, the same thing I say to Kelli, my step-daughter after she's had a terrible night, or she seems like all is lost..."go to sleep, tomorrow is a new day". So after taking a freezing shower, my fever dropped, I slept.

I awoke the next day at about 8am, a new day, a new Margot. It had passed. Friday: Sister, Brian, dad, Enzo and Portia coming...Mike also flying in. Ahhh, I can enjoy NOT getting up to get in the car and drive an hour and half away...No more highway 395 for the next few days. Enzo's little voice stays in my head now, whenever I feel terrible I just think of his rules "No kwaying...no 'itting...no kwaying...no 'itting" (no crying and no hitting).

So that brings us to today. Wednesday. Monday's being my "pass out day", I'll say that this last Monday went very smoothly. I did get home at about 4pm to crawl in bed and stay there until the next day. The weather is starting to change, this morning we woke up to white patches on the ground, not the hard heavy snow but the snow that is so light and powdery. The sky is a brilliant blue. I've started the fireplace.

My mother continues to amaze me. Constantly making me a juice every hour. I've been told to drink green apple and carrot juice every hour while I'm awake by the doctor. She carries a juicer with he to the clinic. She's amazing alright, I called her the Carrot Lady the other day, and then the Green Apple Monster - now she's just the Nazi Juice Lady...constantly shoving the 8 oz in my face and saying "tomatelo hijita - no seas fregada!" (drink it dear, don't be a pain in the ass). The epitome of my mother, a hard ass and sweeter than apple pie. Yuck - bad analogy. The thought of the color green or orange just makes me want to puke! My eyes have become furry and I'm starting to grow bunny ears.

I can't help but think today is my dear girlfriends birthday, and how I so desperately want her to enjoy her dinner tonight doubly the amount she would on a normal seating...in ecstasy with the richness of whatever complex flavors your mouth can catch. In your words, I hope you have a party in your mouth - because I sure as hell can't!



XOXOX

Alchemy: Blood, Urine, & Oxygen

Written Thursday, Posted today (Saturday)...

Ah, so brutal! if it had not been for the amazing emails I got, which by the way some were hilarious, I’m not too sure I could have survived. Honestly between being down right scared of the chemo and insulin procedure (IPT), I barely had enough energy to squeeze out some tears when Nurse Shirley tried tapping into my port. My only thought was “Hum, tied up again…hum, what is God (The Universe) trying to tell me…?” I guess that is a conversation for another day. But if anybody knows, please share.

I will say, some things are very different than 2002. First off, the amount of information (thanks to Mike) has been overwhelming…I have to admit, sometimes I question my choice in doing the IPT therapy, especially when you can punch it into Google and get a “Quack Report”. Then I think back to round one in ‘02…Ah, yes, some of you that receive this will remember.

2002. My hair never grew back the same, eyelashes never the same, infertile, and MAC loves me because at this point I’m a life buyer of their eyebrow pencil, lumpectomy, radiation, and some more chemo…and the cancer came back! So, when I tend to question the efficacy of combining urine, my own blood, and oxygen together only to be poked with a massive needle to have it given back to me I just think back on the 2002 days.

Stanford doctors told me that I would be probably battling cancer for the rest of my life – but they did nothing to supplement the attack on those cancer cells. I can’t help but question myself either. Did I do enough, see enough, act in defense enough…maybe not. Forgiveness has to be quick right now, there is no time for regrets or thinking backwards, time to move on.

Here is the schedule: Monday and Thursday are my IPT infusion days with an infusion of DMSO (makes me smell like garlic), and a hydrogen peroxide infusion. I fondly think of these days as “pass out days”. Tuesday and Wednesday are Vitamin C infusions, with UB-Isodes (the urine, blood, & oxygen thing), and an hour in the infrared sauna to help detox the body. I fondly think of these days as “vibrate days”. Vibrate days because the vitamin C being dripped into the port spills into the heart, and the heart pumps it out into the rest of the body – it makes you tingle and vibrate. I also found it endearing when the 17 year old kid in front of me, Andre, said the Vitamin C made him vibrate.

Passing out on Monday was frightening, but I have to admit, for anybody that has ever smoked one marijuana joint in their life (I know none of you have ever done this but just pretend you have), this is what it felt like – for a split, fleeting, nano-second! Then I realized my sugar had dropped so low that I was going to pass out… they injected the glucose back into my system and said “OK, good girl, you can eat”.

“you can eat”, I guess now that I think about it, IPT and getting high have another thing in common: the munchees??? I don’t think I’ve ever heard such sweeter words in my life, I devoured my lunch that my mom and Mike had brought me back. As I was mentioning yesterday to my fellow infuser, I’ve had some of the most amazing dinners (most recently Gjelina, Axe, Nobu…my mother’s arroz con pollo or dad’s ceviche). I am mortified to say, sorry, all of the above have been kicked to the curb.

Let me introduce to you the finest food my pallet has ever experienced. Welcome to the Nevada Center Lunch Special, catered by Mike Murphy and Mom! There is nothing better than a strawberry Yoplait yogurt cooled at just the right temperature being walloped in your mouth by a plastic spoon, followed by some SaveMart broiled chicken, with a dash of green salad and just the right amount of Paul Newman’s salad dressing (who cares what flavor it was it tasted delicious). Oh, and I guzzled a small Sunny Delight OJ like there was no tomorrow. At that point I felt like there probably wasn’t. I invite all of you to question what in the hell would make anybody in there right mind think this is a 5 star meal. Ha, the only thing missing was a good glass of red wine. That’s my Monday and Thursday.

So as I write this it’s about 8 a.m. and I am watching my mother pacing back and forth in the kitchen, she does that when she’s nervous, I realize the week has gone so quickly and we’re back on “pass out” day. Thursday. This time I have a change of shirt so that when the insulin kicks in and I’m recovering I’ll be able to change a Bikram Yoga like drenched shirt and not freeze as I come around and have lunch. Lovely thought, lunch – wonder what I’ll have today.

Please email me, text, facebook, whatever; you all put such a huge smile on my face! Wish me luck. Highway 395 here we come.

PS. Did I tell you how the other day my mom drove back from Nevada to Truckee and had no idea that at a state agriculture stop you ARE suppose to stop! She flew right through the toll! I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt, perhaps she was thinking she had a fast-track on the dash! I screamed at her, she came to a screeching stop and started to reverse; the state trooper was already starting to run to hit some sort of alarm…She did reverse back, and luckily the gentleman was very forgiving, though very red and flustered.

Here are a few of the comments I got from my last email … XOXOX

text to me: There is nothing worse than a Latina mom
driver, except maybe a Chinita (translated to little Chinese for the Spanish
impaired) mom driver!
…By the way, your mom is not the only bad driving mom.
My mom has been able to increase her insurance premium by hitting 1 moving car
and 2 other times hitting parked cars at supermarkets. My dad is not a happy
camper.
…be strong and all will go well. say your prayers. kiss your mom and
dad. smack mike in the back of his head. everyone is here to love you, it will
be Christmas again. Enzo and Portia will be laughing and playing near the tree.
you will be healthier and stronger. you will be 37.
…I was boxing today and
when I was hitting the bag I was thinking of it being the cancer in your body
and I was knocking it out!!!

Paranoid

It's 8:53pm and I'm ready to head to bed. I was scared. Actually more paranoid today than I ever thought possible. Perhaps because in 2009 I was 29 and totally ignorantly blissful about life and just exactly how chemo treatments worked...at 36 knowing what I know now....well I got a little paranoid. I think I stoped the nurse several times to ask her questions that had already been answered but the "just in case" thought would compel me to sit up in my chair and say ..." what about my heart, I'm not 29 anymore and Adriamycin is so toxic". She would respond..."Yes, it is, but at 1/10 of the suggested dose it will not do anything to your heart". I would sit back down, another thought would pop up...and I'd stop her, "what about the port, what if you hit it outside of where you are suppose to puncture it...will I die?"...her response with a cute little smile "no dear, not at all".

But it went well. The insulin did what it was suppose to, at one point I really did feel faint and clammy - what they call the therapeutic moment, according to the IPT treatment protocol- cancer cells are getting angry and are desperately seeking their nourishment, sugar! As your body stops producing insulin and the insulin receptors on the cancer cells (about 20x's that of a healthy cell) start grasping at anything - you get the "Aha" moment, and feed them. You feed them chemo! I felt evil in a fun way, thinking to myself "die f#$%$^...die". But at the same time I was kinda getting a little too jittery...and was scared that I was going to go into coma (paranoid).

The facility was about 1 hour away from the Truckee house so I guess just as bad if I were going to Stanford or UCSF - unlike those drives, we were blessed with rolling mountains and the feel of Montana (never been, but that's what I picture it to look like). The oncology room was totally full, and as sad as it is to see people in chairs getting transfusions it was a relief to know that I'm not the only one embarking on this "alternative" journey. In fact most of the people were from out of state.

A gentleman sat about 4 chairs down from me, and when he spoke he sounded like he was purposely trying to sound like a woman. This is what esophageal cancer sounds like. Kaiser had sent him home to get his final weeks in order when he had decided to make a special trip from Seattle to visit this clinic. Now two weeks later, the tumors around the neck and charlie horse were dissolving. I heard all of this as he explained it to a visiting doctor. Actually my mother, Mrs. Nosy heard it all, and told me, of course in Spanish so the poor man would not know that she was talking about him.

Our morning started at 7:30am and now my mom, after dropping Mike off at the airport, was driving us back to Truckee. Now, picture this...my mother, who at 65 has NEVER driven to Tahoe up until a day ago (her knuckles were white), is now driving us back from Reno. Sounds easy enough, except that half way home, the freeway lanes start to all merge into one. Does not sound bad except that it feels like you are driving in the most narrow of roads, with a cement divider to your right and to your left, trapped, with about 2 inches of space so that if you slightly move to the right your done, and if you slightly move to the left you've crashed onto the oncoming traffic. Well, we made it! But I don't know anymore which was worse the chemo or my mom driving. I'll be driving on 395 South to Carson City for the next...I don't know how many weeks.

Goodnight and thank you for all of your prayers and thoughts!