Scalpel, Skin, Saw, Skull

I've been mentally running around like a crazy person trying to plan this trip to UCLA. I have six different appointments already scheduled. I just got off the phone a little bit ago where the gentleman said that they won't schedule my post surgery pathology appointment because they will need to review the results and decide if they're going to recommend further treatment, like chemotherapy or radiation. Once they have their recommendation (hopefully NOTHING), they will decide if I need an appointment with Dr Liau or a specialist. Fingers crossed for just Dr Liau! Of course, I can always opt out of those treatments, but it's still a scary concept to acknowledge that the DNA of my tumor could have morphed into a higher grade. That's a very scary thought, one that only swims around the periphery of my mind, a possibility but not my current reality. It's important for me to not get caught up in the "what ifs." And anyway, I feel great! So there.

Can you believe I'm doing another brain surgery? It's almost exactly 2.5 years after the first one. That seems very quick, and yet, an entire lifetime. They're going to cut through my beautiful, unknowing, innocent little skull. They will use scalpels, a saw, and other tools. They will peal back my skin, pull off a portion of my skull. They will cut small nerves. They will dig around, separating the brain tissue and tumor. They will do all kinds of things, moving and removing things in the most intimate part of my body. They will be working on the area where my most inner thoughts and feelings, my genius and my ignorance are dancing. I speak of a brain surgery the way that most people discuss their grocery list, but here I am, getting quite serious. I guess it's time. After the last brain surgery, I never wanted to have to do another one ever again - and yet here I am CHOOSING do it. Crazy stuff.

I feel better than I have even from before the surgery, before the diagnosis. I hope that I don't have a major regression from the surgery, any type of set back - like death, or blood clot like last time - because I'm feeling fantastic, incredibly healthy, superhuman even :) I'm just so grateful for this opportunity, yet afraid as well. I mean, seriously, they're venturing into my brain. Yes. It's a big deal. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens. Gotta take risks in life in order to have success, and I do believe that this is an educated risk that very well might be the biggest success of my life. Why not believe that I can beat this? Why not believe that we can beat anything?

One of my favorite trees along Green Lake. I'm soaking up all of the beauty around the neighborhood, storing the images in my memory bank to fill me up while I'm gone in LA.

I love the flower memorial that has been continuously updated since they chopped down this sick tree along the lake. However, I'm quite confused because they're killing flowers in the process to recognize the death of the tree, doesn't that seem hilariously ironic?

Her Charm

Another beautiful walk along Green Lake...

Documenting my love affair with moss

Sleeping Lovers

Last night, I was a bad girl. I can't be good all the time. It's in my DNA, just ask my grandma. Trust me, she'll know what I'm talking about. She's a little naughtier than me, and boy is it her charm. There is no one like her! Sometimes I need to turn on some soothing music, uncork a bottle of pino, pour a glass, take a deep breath, close my eyes and tell myself that everything will be okay. Last night I listened to Lana Del Ray. If you've never heard her sing, she's mesmerizing.

I keep chugging along, but I have little blurps of exhaustion. I'm in a blurp. I think it's related to the fact that I can't run. One more day. Ugh. One more day, except I stretched in my sleep, which quickly woke me up in a rip of pain. A little tear of the stitches which were healing so well. Damn. Tomorrow I'll gauge whether or not I should run. I don't want to get the incision infected. That would be disgusting!

If I can't run, I start to fall apart. I get lethargic, my appetite grows erratic, my mood dives, and I start to feel sad for no reason. It's embarrassing.

Today I started my high doses again. I'm doing a 4-6, four days of high doses twice a day and then six days off. On the dosing days, I can only eat between 11:00 am-ish to 4:00 pm-ish. No smoothies, the antioxidants clean out the free radicals that need to carry the artemisinin into the cancer cells. My fare during dosing days is quite simple. That's why I need to run, I need to feel energized. Green smoothies and running are what keep my blood flowing and happy.

Oh well. This will not last forever. I am lucky to have this opportunity to conquer my brain cancer. Most who have come before me have not been so fortunate. That's what I have to keep remembering. I'm a lucky one.