Life On My Terms

I had an epiphany last night. It was profound, and yet seems so simple, so clear. I feel like that's the story of my life. My mantra should be, "Look again, there's probably something obvious that will make you feel better."

To preface, I have to explain that I don't sleep well. Actually, I'm a horrible sleeper, one of the worst. Always have been, but of course now post diagnosis it's worse. If Kevin Hart was judging me, instead of Dancing With The Stars, he would give me a 2 out of 10 (and we all know how easy he scores). Most nights I start to fall asleep, and just as I'm on the cusp of slumber, my right hand goes numb, or tingles, or perhaps it's my right leg, and I snap out of bed afraid I'm about to have a seizure. Naturally, this is not conducive for sleeping. The other day, I shared how afraid I've been about my upcoming MRI. And how much I hate that. I hate being afraid. But what occurred to me last night is that my deep fear isn't the MRI, but what the MRI could set into motion, like another brain surgery, or radiation or chemo. But, while I analyzed those fears I thought to myself, I've already gone against doctor's wishes, and it has proved to be better for me, both mentally, physically, and even longevity wise. That I have been rogue for a few years with my treatments, and instead of being afraid of what doctors could tell me to do, I've done what I want, even though their words hovered, and have permeated my psyche instilling fear. But you know what? I'm the only one who can control the thoughts in my brain. I choose to allow fear in, therefore, I can also remove the triggers that instil the fear.

This cancer will be on my terms. I will no longer have that deep rooted fear because I will know that I will only do what I want. I will not be pressured out of fear. I will do standard treatments if that's what feels right. But if it doesn't then I won't. I'll cross that bridge when I get there. This is my life, my one shot. I don't want to regret a thing. And if that means I die young, then that's what it means. Truthfully, if I am going to die young, then it was probably going to happen anyway. But it will be my journey, and I will be true to myself.

Man it's a relief to realize the power I have. But, that power will be diminished if I stray from my heart. We all have our own paths to take, but we also have to blaze alone.

I mean, what is the purpose of this life? Could it be to remain true to yourself? Can that really be summarized in a one-liner? I don't think so. Life is vast, and minute, full of variables, and surprises, and gifts, and challenges. I don't have the answers, but I do know that when I finally fell into a deep sleep, lips upturned in a subtle smile, it was from the rolling thought of, Thank you for this life. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.....

This morning, born out of the ashes of my new found strength, I made the most delicious smoothie in the history of Jess smoothies! I even made some smoothie friends.

Matcha Latte
1 tsp ceremonial matcha
warm/hot unsweetened almond milk (enough to fill the cup)

Fill the mug 1/4 full with the warm/hot milk, add the matcha, whisk vigorously. Once it looks nice and creamy, fill the rest of the mug with milk and do a final whisk or two.

Apple Cider Vinegar Aperitif 
1 tbsp ACV (with mother)
filtered room temp water

This one's pretty self explanatory.

Spicy Salty Sweet Green Smoothie
coconut water (add as you blend to the consistency you desire)
1/2 cucumber (with peel)
1/2 jalapeno
1/2 green apple
1/4 lime (skin and all)
1 large handful of spinach
2 leaves lacinato kale
2 inches of ginger (peeled)
2 tbsp fish oil

Blend it all together until it's creamy (it's the fish oil that gives the great consistency, but you can substitute flax seed oil, or coconut oil if you prefer, it may change the taste a little though). This batch fills two glasses.

Goin' for "Stable"

In the picture below, you'll notice more of Larry's fresh garlic. It's delicious, but my breath is ATROCIOUS. Luckily it's just Emma and I today, and bad breath is her favorite.

This morning, I woke up rested. I had the chance to debrief with Meghan over the phone last night. We laughed, and I cried a little bit, told her my fears, and if I heard correctly, I think she might have dropped a tear or two as well.

All in all, I feel like this is going to work; the low doses make me feel so good. Also, this protocol is great - absolutely doable. I enjoy having my last meal at 4:30 pm, then cleansing my body with only water until pill time at 8:30 pm. It takes a serious amount of discipline, but I enjoy the challenge. Oddly, it makes me feel strong. I like routine, things that I can count on. I like knowing that antioxidants are for breakfast and lunch, that every day is the same. There's no guessing, no worries, just the basics, every single day.

I'm scared to see growth, albeit minimal. I worry that somehow I won't beat this. I fear that I will continuously decline, and that this tumor will invade and take over my brain until I am no longer functioning. Those are my fears. And, if I look at the majority of cases, it's exactly what happens. BUT, I have stopped Herman's growth before, so I know that I can do this. I know that it can happen. AND, we did shrink the other areas of tumor. SO, who knows. We just have to stop Herman's growth. I'm happy - not thrilled, like I probably should be - that the other areas are smaller, but as long as Herman is growing, he's a major threat and that rains on my parade.

Herman needs to be taken seriously; he's a formidable adversary. So, here we go again, another three month period to conquer this challenge. Herman feels angry, like I've been trying to keep him down, and he's pissed. I just have to keep the low doses of artemisinin coming each night, tucking little Hermie to bed with my own version of a bedtime story.

It's weird to live like this. To be a functioning young-ish adult living with cancer. My life would not be as easy if I would have followed standard of care and done radiation, so I can be grateful for that. I can't imagine all the effects I would be dealing with. Yuck. At the doctor appointment, my mom asked when they would stop pushing for radiation, and the response was: I need to get two more MRIs with minimal growth to be considered "stable." At that point, hypothetically, I would have an entire year of minimal growth which would put the radiation discussion off the table. They would continue to monitor but not push for radiation. So there you go, that's our next goal. We not only want to stop growth, and have it shrink, we want the doctors to stop pushing radiation.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. For now, I just need to go run green lake. My goal today is to jog two laps at once (without stopping), that adds up to be approximately 6 miles. I have never accomplished that feat before, but I need to challenge myself. Hermie and I need to have a run and a long talk. It's going to be wet, but I think Herms has pretty good hearing and can decipher my words through the wind and rain drops. He's already getting pouty. He knows he's in trouble.