Complexities

I have a complex situation.  I guess I already knew that, but that perspective from one of the hospitalists I was recently visiting in St. Mary’s Hospital struck a new chord.  Add the fact that I had fallen so far into suffering that I lost track of where I was.  I also had to laugh to myself because his perspective was based solely on the physical ramifications of my scenario.  With a glance at the mental, emotional and spiritual, complex becomes a drastic understatement.  Weave in the philosophic polarity between holistic and allopathic treatment, and the fact that my health decisions are completely self-guided choices, and just the search for a synonym that adequately describes this “complex” situation becomes a daunting task.  It all calls for a long walk in the woods.  And, unfortunately, my energy, mobility, the horrific air quality and 20-degree weather really nix that as being a reasonable and prudent remedy.  So, I turn to writing.  Here, I attempt to purge the stagnation of thoughts and feelings that have not been flowing.  I attempt to make some sense of the insane.  I search for clarity and guidance on icy slopes under the dim light of hard winter.  I look for distractions from the daydream of an endless float down the dammed Colorado River.  I seek visions of a future worth working so hard to live for, and I simply muse the words “working so hard.”  Do I need to find a reason to dig myself out of another deep hole?

I certainly feel much more philosophical than practical in my mind this morning.  After a good 12 hours of much needed sleep following two miserable nights at the hospital I feel some relative level of calm.  I might have the post haze of hydrocodone and cannabis but am currently drug and pain free.  Confined freedom, getting to leave my cell to walk the fenced yard.  I would breath in the sun if it offered itself.  Instead I appreciate the comfort of soft fleece and down.  And I am amazed.  I have spent my life developing, whether I like it or not, a relationship with irritable bowels.  Call it Ulcerative Colitis, call it Crohn’s, call it six major surgeries, three missing organs and a poop bag to boot.  Call it what I like, I’ve never known it like I know it now.  And before now, as I have related to some friends, its lifetime tribulations have made a year with Leukemia seem like a walk in the park.  Leukemia, especially acute, is a freak the fuck out, not a walk in the park.  So what is it all together?  As far as I know, I’m the only one that knows.  I guess I’ll sit on that for a while…

Talk Radio: Cosmic Voices 9/26/12

As a prelude to our upcoming radio show on Wednesday, Nov 28^th (5:30pm), here is my radio interview on Sept 26th with hosts Ramona Winkeller and Dulce Bell-Bulley discussing my leukemia diagnosis in relation to bigger cosmic questions such as, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" The talk explores healing as a path to self-discovery and delves into subjects such as soul contracts and past lives, archetypes, astrological significance, examinations of death and the path of spiritual evolution.  Be sure to tune in to our follow up discussion on KAFM radio this Wednesday.

Talk Radio: Vibrant Wellness 09/26/12

Yes!  I have finally figured out how to share my radio shows on my blog.  Here is my radio interview on Sept 26th with host Joseph Rolley and special guest Anthony Bogart discussing the latest on my holistic approach to leukemia recovery. This follows my second trip to Angeles Hospital in Tijuana for Bio-immune Cell Therapy. Discussion revolves around mind-body connection and the journey from fear to self-empowerment.

Fundraiser: Poetry with Rosemerry

Holiday Poetry Jam & Silent Auction

I am soooo excited to announce this upcoming FUNdraising event to further assist my successful and ongoing alternative cancer treatment.  This will be a joyous don’t miss occasion!

Thursday, December 6^th at KAFM’s Radio Room

1310 Ute Ave

6-10pm

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

I am humbled to share the stage with special guest and award winning poet laureate, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer.  Rosemerry has authored numerous books, works as a writing instructor and workshop leader, and strives “to help people find the poetry in their lives.”  She will be joining us from Telluride for this special event.

Many of you know me as a local writer, teacher and healer, currently exploring non-conventional and self-empowering ways to treat a life-threatening cancer diagnosis. 

The night will include a synthesis of poetry and music with artists Kevin Mahoney and Tony Babbitt.  Holiday shopping will be made easy during an ongoing silent auction with goods from various local merchants, and food and spirits will be provided by local donors as well.  Minimum donation to attend is $10/person at the door and all proceeds benefit “Z’s Cure” including 20% of Rosemerry’s book sales.  This evening promises to be a highlight of the holiday season.  Look forward to seeing you there! 

There are too many vendors and volunteers to thank, but look forward to these highlighted sponsors:  Fraps & Wraps, Mesa Park Vineyards, Palisade Brewing Company, Main Street Mineral & Beads, Orr's Trading Company, Laughing Dog Coffee House...

Happy Birthday to Me!

Both my birthday and birthday celebration were a huge shift and lift for me.  After two and a half weeks of miserable symptoms related to my treatment my mood had gotten very negative.  As I described below, on my birthday hike I made a nice shift for myself.  The next day at my Pizza & Pumpkins Party all of the shared love and celebration was a huge lift for me.  Here's a video that the awesome Nicole took of me sharing the journal entry that I had written below.  Enjoy! 

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Today I celebrate my birthday, though the actual occasion was yesterday.  In addition to the new Pyrex baking pans I bought myself, I gave myself a more valuable gift.  I took a hike with my dog through the local desert canyon landscapes to rest alongside the easily flowing Colorado River.  In a return to nature I often find a return to self.  It was much needed (from my journal with toes dangling above the water):

Oct 20^th, 2012, My 37^th BD: Cottonwoods and River off Rustler’s…

            There are so many ways I could start this BD edition journal entry.  I’ve quickly reminded myself to avoid negativity, referring to the realization on this hike that I need to burn the word “negative” in tomorrow’s fire.  So I’ll say: It is and epic October day on the Colorado River.  My most excellent dog is chillin’ in the tall luscious grass and I am starfishin’ in the presence of Godly red rock walls and glorious golden cottonwoods.  It’s also remarkable that I hiked here and got to hear the sound of my sandals on sand, and now my beautiful bare feet, when they told me 7 months ago that I could be dead in 4.  And what a blessing chemo didn’t work cause look, I don’t look like a cancer patient.  In fact, I am alive and strong!  I have so much gratitude for those who love and that I have so many friends where there is no line between them and family (tribe).  And, I know how to feel, and I know how to heal, and I feel good when I rhyme, so I think I’ll make that healthy this time.  And, I have the ability to build energy and let it flow, so join me my friends and let it go.  Happy Birthday to me!  I am loved, I love, I AM LOVE.

Viva la Mexico!

It is no typical Saturday night in Tijuana.  The loud partiers and sirens might be typical, but the fireworks and shut down streets full of vendors and live music aren't.  It just so happens that our one weekend here is Mexican Independence Day.  This is a more significant celebration that Cinco de Mayo, as the link explains.  Cars are honking outside our fourth floor hotel window at this moment and the fireworks have been over for well over an hour.  Mom and I decided to celebrate by battling with Kings and Queens of our own in a few fervent games of Gin Rummy.

This trip to Hospital Angeles has certainly been different than the last.  Instead of frequent trips to the ozone sauna we are taking frequent trips from our hotel to the hospital for meals.  We've opted for two organic meals a day at the hospital cafeteria and we walk the lengthy four city blocks back to the hotel afterwards.  We've made numerous trips to the grocery across the street and spent this morning roaming the Mercado Hidalgo.  It's highlighted in this interesting NPR story!  I will say I've grown a bit tired of our routine and if there's a next time with similar treatment plan I'll do it differently by staying in San Diego (where it's easier to hang out on the beach) and make the occasional trip across the border for treatment.

When we arrived on Tuesday my blood was quickly drawn and we were told the first treatment would be Friday.  That treatment consisted of a five minute IV of NK cells and a shot of interleukin.  The interleukin stimulates a fever response in the body, thus stimulating malignant cells in a way that "red flags" them for attack from the Natural Killer cells.  I will have my second and final treatment on Tuesday in the same fashion.  This protocol was part of my original treatment here, but I'll be taking something different home.  Apparently my blood chemistry had markers making me a candidate for an Autologous cell factor treatment.  I will get further explanation of this on Tuesday, but the gist is a series of subcutaneous shots for the two months following this download of NKs that will stimulate the growth and production of these cells in my immune system.

This is really far out stuff and the skeptic in me raises an eyebrow at a price tag of $8000 for two five minute IVs and $3000 for some shots to take at home.  As mom and I discussed, we've come to expect some sort of drama with spendy hospital stays.  It's like that way we feel like we're getting our money's worth.  I remind myself that there is so much going on behind the scenes in the lab with equipment that far exceeds my understanding, even with an owner's manual.  And the big truth is the proof in the pudding.  The fact that my last biopsy showed only a 19% cancer blast count when my oncologist in Junction expected it to be in the 80% range says a lot.  If I only had 20% properly functioning cells in my bone marrow the exclamation I'd get from people when they see me would not be, "Wow, you look good!"  I like hearing that I love living it.

The biggest piece of missing info that I'm itching to know is my whit blood cell count.  As I've explained in past blogs, counting my WBC has become a weekly past time of mine.  My last CBC before departing Colorado showed a whopping 2.5 (parameters for healthy WBC is 4.0-10.0).  This was the second highest it's been since February and the 0.8 jump was double any increase or decrease I'd experienced.  A snafu temporarily sunk my spirits Friday when the results I requested from my blood draw showed a WBC of 1.1.  The half hour of distress quickly dissipated once I realize I was looking at records from my original arrival.  Keep in mind it's all in Spanish and takes a while to decipher!

So, as Mexico celebrates its independence, this date that signifies the start of the revolution against the Spanish, I too am caught up in a bit of internal revolution.  This blood and marrow of mine that was once peacefully settled by happy and healthy red and white blood cells faced a critical invasion by malignant cells.  Now, inspired by the words of NK Hidalgo, they've taken up arms to reclaim what is rightfully theirs.  I can hear them now... "Viva Zachariah!"

Here's the scene outside our hotel window this eve:

Return to Angeles

Last night as I was drifting off to sleep my phone reminder chimed at 9 o'clock.  I dismally turned to silence it.  Before long it was chirping again, our 7am wake-up.  After ten hours of sleep mom and I are both feeling in about the same condition, out of sorts and groggy.  There's that phenomenon of finally getting that solid restful night of sleep.  That trigger in the body requesting MORE!  So, needless to say I stare at my computer somewhat glassy-eyed knowing I need to let it go for the time being.  However, I did want to put out a quick update.

Our US Air flight from GJ to San Diego via Phoenix was smooth and after a short wait curbside we were shuttled seamlessly across the border.  It amazes me how different things can be in the distance of a few short miles and a line marked by barbed-wire; cell phone signal, store fronts and driving customs to name a few.  As we entered the familiar lobby of Hospital Angeles I reflected on my moments of frustration the days prior to departure while attempting to navigate the details of this trip.  Clarity and follow-through are not strengths of this facility while patients are abroad, but I knew we'd be taken care of upon arrival.  I was right.  We weren't a dozen steps in before we were met my our striking (in my biased opinion) International Patient Coordinator.  We worked out details and payment and were escorted to Dr. Perez's office.  Along the way we bumped into Dr. Perez, in his soaked gym clothes carrying a small office table.  Not the first impression he wanted to make, he later explained to my mother, but I think we both appreciated the glimpse of the real person behind the usual lab coat.  At the office seventy mL of blood were extracted from my Hickman port and we were told the next appointment would be Friday for the first dose of NK cells (see past blog for details).  At that point other possible treatment options would be discussed as well, depending on breakdown of my current blood chemistry.

This visit down is being done on an outpatient basis because of the less strenuous treatment regime and to keep me out of the hospital as much as possible due to my still low WBC.  It is saving a bit of money as well.  We are staying on the 4th floor of the Camino Real, about a fifteen minute walk away from Angeles.  We bought some basics at the grocery across the street, but are having most of our meals at the hospital to keep me on the proper balanced diet of organic fruits and veggies and appropriate proteins.  Our game plan until Friday is pretty much to hangout, rest, read, write, and walk.  I think we'll throw in some games of cribbage and gin rummy as well.  Truly, it's mom and son time.  Here we are after breakfast this morning: