Another Dog Gone: RIP Chase 4/1/95 - 4/24/10

We lost our dog Chase on Saturday, about 9 months after we lost his life long companion, Sara. Chase was an Australian Shepherd mix that we adopted at the end of the summer in 1995. My son, then 11, had wanted a dog and like the overachieving mom I am, I told him he could get one if he did a research paper for me on what breeds did what so we could make an intelligent decision. He surprised me and did the research paper so when he wanted to go to a pet store to look at a dog his friend had seen I kept my part of the bargain.

We walked into the store and saw a small dog, obviously an older puppy, with grey and white fur and steel blue eyes. It was love at first sight for all of us. The pup had been rescued from living on the streets by a teenage girl who worked at the pet shop. She said that she had named him "Chasen" because he was always chasin' things around. I should have known then but love makes you blind so we piled him into our car and began our 15 year adventure of dog ownership which eventually included two other dogs--Sara and Novella.

We decided to call him Chase for short and took him home to begin the task of training a high energy dog. One of the first things Chase did was bound through the house, jump on my bed and pee all over it. So we moved him outdoors and got a kennel to work on house training him. I also signed him up for dog training classes and wound up doing two sessions to work on his boundless enthusiasm for running wherever he wanted.

Chase was a very smart dog. He was great at doing tricks we learned at the dog classes and even greater in ignoring me when he did not want to do what I wanted. After all he was the alpha dog and no amount of persuasion was going to change that.

My son and daughter were convinced that Chase was part wolf because he howled at us from time to time. He was clearly a  shepherd (we thought part German and part Australian) because he took pleasure in herding people and small animals. In particular, he saw it as his duty to chase any small animal he came across, including our cats. One time he got one of our cats who was a bit slow and started to shake her while holding her by the neck. Luckily I was able to get him to drop her and the vet was able to repair her. She did not venture in the yard again when Chase was there.

We took Chase to the dog park once and Chase somehow got a large group of dogs to start fighting with each other. The owners of the other dogs got hysterical and ran into the fighting pack to pull out their dogs. I whistled for Chase and, for once, he came immediately (after all, his instigation work was done) and we all hightailed it out of there.

Chase went hiking in Palos Verdes for several years off leash with a pack run by a young man named Paul. Paul sent us a Christmas card one year with a picture of Chase running on the hiking path. You have never seen a happier dog. Unfortunately Chase developed a problem with his hip which affected the movement of his rear legs. The vet recommended that we not let Chase hike anymore. At the end, Chase was clearly having a lot of pain from that hip problem and his hind legs. He stopped moving, eating and drinking. And he was the equivalent of 100 human years old.

My son had to take Chase to the vet for that sad, last trip while my husband and I were away this past weekend. I am sorry that I did not get a chance to say goodbye. Chase, I will miss you. You were a good dog.

Four Questions (not the Passover kind)

I realize I have not posted for over a month.  I got to the point in the past month that I really had nothing to say other than to whine about how sick I was.  Cycle 4 was particularly bad.  My doctor took pity on me and changed the protocol.  Instead of 6 infusions per cycle, I now only have one and it is by IV only.  I am half way through cycle 5 under this new protocol and feel significantly better although still not well.  I am physically weak--fatigued and easily out of breath with the smallest activity. (Think walking up the stairs, or lifting up the comforter).  I am 30 pounds lighter but with very little muscle.  I still have nausea but not anywhere as severe as the earlier cycles.  Next month is my last cycle and then a recovery period to try to build up my strength before I return to work in mid-June.  Then my life begins again, although with this pesky problem of not knowing if and when the cancer will come back.

So what have I been doing?  Watching TV, reading magazines and generally, as my friend Carol said about herself, whimpering a lot.  I spend a lot of time just in quietude trying to live in the moment.  And some of the TV and reading I have done looks at psychological process for addressing negative thoughts which, of course, tend to fly around when you have cancer.

One show I watched on PBS was Daniel Amen's Magnificent Mind At Any Age.  In the show, Amen talks about his idea that you can defeat automatic negatives thoughts (cutely called ANTS) by addressing four questions.  A blog by Walter Reade lays out these questions:

Here’s a technique that Dr. Amen gives to help you decide whether or not you should believe these thoughts. Ask yourself these four questions:

1. Is the thought true?

2. Can I absolutely know that it’s true?

3. How do I react when I believe that thought?

4. Who would I be without the thought? Or how would I feel if I didn’t have the thought?

Once you answer the four questions, take the original thought and completely turn it around to its opposite (for example, “I’ll never be successful” becomes “I will be successful”) and ask yourself the same four questions!

Yesterday I was reading an article in Oprah Magazine by a woman with stage 4 breast cancer who interviewed a woman named Byron Katie.  Interestingly Byron Katie also has four questions to address negative thoughts.  From her website :

The Four Questions

In its most basic form, The Work consists of four questions and a turnaround. For example, the first thought that you might question on the above Worksheet is "Paul doesn't listen to me." Find someone in your life about whom you have had that thought, and let's do The Work. "[Name] doesn't listen to me":

 Is it true?

 Can you absolutely know that it's true?

 How do you react, what happens, when you believe that thought?

 Who would you be without the thought?

Then turn it around (the concept you are questioning), and don't forget to find three genuine, specific examples of each turnaround.

Look familiar?  Interestingly,  Katie claims to have created these four questions, which she calls "The Work" in 1986.  She also claims to have discovered The Work all at once as a revelation which transformed her.  Amen on the other hand seems to have come more recently to these 4 questions.  I am not aware whether he credits Katie for the questions in his books.  He does not in his lectures for PBS.  And it would appear from his CV  that he was studying hypnosis in 1986.  

Leaving aside the origins of the 4 questions,  it would seem that both of these people are part of the positive thinking movement that Barbara Ehrenreich disdains. (See my December 6 blog entry )  I am a bit more sympathetic to positive thinking these days since negativity does not help when you have cancer.  I just think you need to be realistic.  Positive thoughts may not stop my cancer (notwithstanding what the Wellness Community believes) but it will make my life more in the present, no matter how much time I have left.  Under the circumstances, I am not sure I can do anything else.

Life Interrupted

I am now reaching the end of cycle 3 and the supposed half point of this ordeal called chemotherapy.  This cycle has had some new challenges.  I was much sicker during the first two weeks than in earlier cycles. Nausea and vomiting seem to become a constant companion.  Then I woke up last Wednesday with a pain in my right calf.  I thought at first I had somehow pulled a muscle (which is hard to imagine since I do not do any exercise) or perhaps had a form of a charlie horse, which I was getting a lot last year.  But then, I looked down at my right leg and realized it was swollen to twice the size of my other leg.  Time to call the doctor.

I called the number I was given and then was transferred to an automated answering service for my doctor's practice.  Eventually, after telling people that, no I am not part of their clinic but just a regular patient, I talked to a person who took down my name, my symptoms and promised to have a nurse call back.  After a half hour, I decided to do some research on the internet to figure out what this problem might be.  Unfortunately it looked like it might be a blood clot which can be pretty life ending if a piece winds up near your heart.  So after another hour of waiting, I called back the doctor's office and mentioned I was still waiting for a call back.  The person who answered this time said that everyone (!) was at the clinic and I might not get a call back until after 5 p.m., another 4 hours. So I decided to mention that I thought I had a blood clot.  Like Groucho's magic word, the bird came down and a nurse called me back in 10 minutes.  Then I spent the next 4-5 hours getting an ultrasound and being wheeled around the hospital because I could not walk anymore.  Finally after 6 p.m. I saw the doctor on call with the results of the ultrasound--a blood clot that went the entire length of my leg.  They gave me a shot and consulted about whether to admit me but then decided to send me home with a prescription for Lovenox for at least the next 3 months.

So I have been dutifully giving myself these blood thinner shots for 5 days and keeping my leg propped up as much as I can.  However, I still cannot walk so we canceled our end of cycle trip to Santa Barbara, which is our effort to have some normal time during this overwhelming abnormal 5 months. Now instead I am just hanging out waiting for cycle 4 to start this Thursday.  A little disappointing but better than having my heart stop.

I have to keep remembering when I feel sorry for myself that nothing is normal these days and my life has been interrupted big time, that there are far worse things that could happen.  In my own life, there could still be dangerous complications to the surgery, the cancer and the chemo.  And in the past week I have read of the deaths of 2 young women--one a 13 year old who died after being hit by a car and the other a 20 year old college junior who died this weekend for reasons unknown.  These deaths happened to children of people whose lives on the surface seemed perfect.  Both young women attended prominent schools and lived comfortable lives where they could spend their leisure time learning dance or theater.  Each of these children have grieving parents whose lives are now not just interrupted but forever altered.  I think I will call my 20 year old and tell her I love her.

Cycling On

I am reaching the end of cycle 2 and am feeling quite good today.  I woke up craving a hamburger which Paul suggested was not a good idea.  Sometimes when I feel good I think I want to eat certain things that turn out to make me feel sick in the long run.  And it is pretty clear that how I experience tastes has changed.  I tried eating a small ice cream bar last night and it did not taste like it normally does.  I do not have the metallic taste in my mouth that some get but something has changed.

We are trying to follow Paul's urologist's suggestion to get away for a short trip at the end of each of my cycles.  So this time we are heading off to San Diego on Monday to Paradise Point for two days before cycle 3 starts again on Thursday.  Unfortunately rain is forecast for Monday.  But it was also forecast for today and it is quite sunny out so maybe we will get lucky.  I am curious to see how I do in the car.  I seem to have more susceptibility to motion sickness these days which of course is exacerbated by the long trips to the hospital on infusion days.  I wonder if it is a form of anticipatory nausea in that I have associated being nauseated with driving in the car.

I have been ranting a bit this week, since my life has so little activity, about NBC's coverage of the Olympics.  In 1984 we went to England during the summer Olympics which were held in LA.  We thought the city would be a mess so we planned to get out before we got entangled in one massive sig-alert.  As it turned out, the city functioned fine.  We on the other hand were treated to BBC's coverage of the Olympics which was more comprehensive and live than any American television coverage.  Since we had jet lag we were able to watch events live and uneditorialized, without constant focus on American athletes.

This time, the winter Olympics are in Vancouver which is the same time zone as LA.  However, NBC is delaying its broadcasts here for prime time.  So on a number of occasions I have seen the winners of events posted on the internet or in news alerts to my emails hours before it is shown here on TV.  Most frustrating was the Men's final in figure skating.  Evan Lysacek trains nearby in El Segundo at the rink where my daughter once skated as a child and worked a few years ago before moving to SF.  We like Evan-- for his skill, his work ethic, his looks (let's face it) and his poise.  I found out he had won 3 hours before NBC showed us the event.  BAH!  And since I knew he had won, I left on my DVR to record the program but discovered later that the DVR cut off in the middle of Plushenko's program. Therefore not only did I miss Plushenko's performance on the ice,  I did not get to see his apparently abrupt departure from the kiss and cry after he learned he had not won the gold.  I have been able to see some of Lysacek's interviews where the commentators tried to bait him into badmouthing Plushenko.  He really did take the high road showing how well he is advised and how smart he is to follow that advice.  Hopefully he does not turn out to be like Tiger Woods and Kobe,  brilliant athletes who looked like nice guys but turned out to be something so very different.  We need athlete heroes who are genuinely good hard working people without any huge hidden character flaws.  Is that too much to ask?

Rolling along

I am now in day 11 of cycle 2 so my paranoia is in full swing despite this lovely southern California Valentine's Day.  I still feel the effects of the last chemo infusion on day 8, which unfortunately led to my worst night ever so far in terms of sickness.  But now I am also worried about infection since I am at the bottom of my white cell count cycle.

 Otherwise I feel pretty good.  My head still has a little fuzz which keeps falling out daily.  I am eating a bit better.  Smells seem to bother me more this cycle than the first.  Anything anyone cooks in the house becomes an instant source of nausea.  The cooked fish was the worst.  At a friend's suggestion, we have ordered an air purifier to see if it will help.

We also finally replaced our old leaky overflowing master bathroom toilet with a new, water saving ADA approved toilet acceptable to the beefy boys.  Unfortunately for me, as I discovered the other day, the toilet is too high for my stubby little legs which dangle and shake during uncomfortable moments.  We have however found a workaround--a foot rest from Relax the Back.

This cycle has not been quite the same as the first.  The main overall difference is that I seem to have had more time during the infusions when I felt okay, then to rebound to feeling much worse than I remember feeling during cycle 1.  I cannot be sure that I did not feel as bad during cycle 1 since the bad times tend to run together and diminish in intensity as time passes.  My nurse the other day remembered that I was quite sick during one of the early days of cycle 1 which mercifully did not register in my memory.

The rollercoaster ride continues.

Hair Today, Gone Today

I decided to get the rest of my hair shaved off this morning.  I will need to start wearing hats and scarves now so here is my first "scarf" for my new lack of 'do.

Losing my hair has been fairly upsetting but I could not live with the hairs all over my pillow,  particularly when some of them wound up in my mouth.  Hair is really not that tasty.  So I went to Supercuts with my daughter as support.  It took me a while to convince the hair stylist to shave it all off.  She wanted to leave some hair even though my hair was already quite short. I am sure that reflects our belief that women should have hair no matter what. I told her that the hair was falling out anyway which she had trouble believing until I explain I was undergoing chemo.

The first thing I noticed is how cold it is without hair.  I put on a red hat but found this head cover in the car so decided to sport it instead.  Gotta laugh or I'll cry.

Yesterday one of my colleagues,  who is also a member of the cancer club, confided that losing her hair was the worst part for her.  I don't know if she was saying that because I was feeling so bad about losing mine but it was very consoling.  I have felt very vain because the hair loss is such a big deal to me.  It was the first thing that made me cry when I talked to the doctor about what the chemo would be like.  I am relieved that someone else viewed it as a big deal and since I do not think of this particular colleague as vain at all, I felt validated in my own feelings of helplessness and loss.  So I am not vain, just mourning the loss of my close friends on my head that kept me warm and happy.

Weekend Update

I am coming to the end of my first 21 day cycle which is the time, I am told, that I will feel the best in each cycle.  Here's an update on the minutae of living with chemo and cancer:

1. My hair finally started to fall out yesterday.  I had hoped I would be the one in a million who were spared, but no.  The odd thing is that my scalp actually hurts a little.  I woke up the other night aware of how sensitive it was from my just lying on it.  
2. I am eating much much better.  Maybe a bit too much.  I am hungry a lot of the time and had to get Paul up yesterday morning early to fix breakfast because I was hungry and nauseated.  I still have a more restricted diet than usual but I have had a few of my beloved Starbucks lattes (nonfat, decaf) this week.  I have developed a passion for sliced apples and cheese.  I also seem to do well with scrambled eggs even during the worst of the nausea.  Hope that keeps because a few things have not worked (like a bagel that they had at the hospital).  
3. The nausea has also subsided but has not gone away altogether.  I have cut way back on nausea meds but still have to take them at least once a day.  I am a little surprised because most of what I have read says the nausea from the chemo should be gone after 4-5 days.  I guess I am more susceptible to nausea anyway given how sick I was during my pregnancies.  Crackers do not help but those lovely little Reeds ginger chews do.  One of the nurses said that if my white cell count and platelets dropped I might experience some nausea too.  That was most likely to happen starting about day 11 and building up through the end of the cycle so that may explain the more recent nausea.
4. I am paranoid about getting sick.  My mother in law has a really bad cough and cold.  She is coughing into her hands and touching surfaces all over downstairs (including the kitchen).  I am hiding in my bedroom.
5. I have been feeling well enough to read and even do a little work but not as much work as my boss would like.  He made a big deal about my not working during disability and that ended as soon as he had to take over about half of my work.  In fact, although he told me not to put anything concerning work I did in writing, he sent me an email instructing me to do a written summary of a conference call I covered this week.  So much for stealth working.  
6. I have been reasonably upbeat so far.  I only had one bout of the blues the other day when I spent the day in my room pretty much alone.  Paul's urologist apparently did a survey of medical literature on the effects of positive thinking on cells and claims there is evidence that positive thinking does help.  I am too fatigued to do the research myself and remain skeptical but luckily my mood has been mostly positive anyway. I try to find humor in the situation if possible since otherwise I would be obsessing about discomfort and possibly even death.