Surgery #8, here I come!

It's not as bad as it sounds. Next week, I'm finally going to have the tissue expanders removed and the implants put in. I've been living with these saline filled exercise balls inside my chest since February. A necessary discomfort if one wants new breasts after a mastectomy. But, definitely inhumane!

In the past several weeks, my hair has been growing back with a vengeance. It is getting thicker, and very gray (meaning, salt and pepper), but it's HAIR! A cute pixie look that everyone likes, except me! But, for now, it's what it is. Sooner than later, I will go back to a more youthful color; the pixie style may stay. Who knows.

Life has been busy -- keeping busy keeps my mind off of the stiffness in my back from all the incisions. I've been handling mediations, and have presided over 2 hearings, that require me to write detailed written decisions. One decision has been issued - - I'm official! I love the job ... very challenging.

Enjoyed a visit to Seattle a few weekends ago with my brother and twin nephews. We Rode the Ducks around Seattle and went for a little cruise on the lake. Lots of fun -- then, it was home and Aunty Adi made spaghetti for the clan. Had a chance to watch Avatar, too -- great movie, but not sure it was worth all the hype.

And, so it goes -- I am moving toward home plate in the treatment of cancer. And, I am sure now it's all about ATTITUDE. Do what the doctors recommend, and just keep busy. Time passes faster than one expects if you don't let the diagnosis of cancer rule your life!

Inflate, Expand, and Count the days!

I AM A SURVIVOR

Why would anyone voluntarily endure the torture of having their breast skin stretched unmercifully just to have bigger breasts? I ask myself this each time my surgeon "inflates" the expanders that sit like small exercise balls inside my once lovely boobs. Of course, I can't deny that I enjoy looking down and seeing a nice cleavage. But, the torture that one has to endure to get it -- hmmm, these babies better be GORGEOUS when this is all done. May 26 the expanders come out during surgery #8, and the implants move into their new home. YAHOO!!!

I returned to work full time about 3 weeks ago. It was a challenge to sit upright 8 hours a day with all the stitches in my back, and the weak back muscles. But I survived.

Something I did not expect, however, was the PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) that showed itself to me about a week and a half back to work. Over the past months, since early July, I was deeply involved in the process of diagnosis, treatment planning, treatment, a new job, surgeries, surviving chemo, keeping my head warm, keeping my brain functioning as I learned a new job, and just staying mentally and physically strong. You get the idea.

What I didn't really deal with is the big "C" word -- I have cancer. Of course, I was comfortable knowing that my team of health care providers were working with me to do everything possible to get rid of that devil living in side of me (which I am quite certain is gone), and setting me up with the tools to insure that it wouldn't come back. But, that doesn't change the fact that I am now a member of a very unique club -- a survivor of breast cancer. It changes things a little -- our futures are not predictable by any means, and I'm a control freak who has to know what is happening tomorrow. Now, I realize what people mean when they say "live for today, make it the best, and worry about tomorrow when it gets here." I spent about 1 day feeling angry, depressed, scared, and helpless -- what happens if this comes back when I am older and I don't have this same level of strength. The answer: I will deal with it, if and when I have to.

Today I got "good" news -- my cancer tumor had some estrogen positive receptors -- that means that I can add another pill to my regimen if medications, vitamins, and herbs -- Arimidex. Why good news? Because in addition to the Herceptin, which targets the Her-2/neu positive cells which duplicate rapidly, Arimidex works to repress estrogen which could feed estrogen hungry cancer cells. My chances of non-recurrence increase by another 50% (how does one calculate that -- 97% chance of non-recurrence before, 50% better chance with Arimidex).

I'm back to the gym -- and I never thought I'd say "hooray" to the gym! It feels great ... still a little stiff in the back, but I'm doing it.

I'm active at work -- keeping busy during the week handling cases that involve kids and their special needs is a good thing.

MY PET PROJECT -- HELP YOUNG ADULTS IN ARMENIA
HAVE A BETTER LIFE

I'm back to organizing and planning for the opening of House of Hope - Mer Hooys, in Armenia. See more about this wonderful program at our website.

Even though Armenia has its problems with politics, economy and government, the children of Armenia deserve a chance at a decent lifestyle -- and, if we give them the right training and opportunity, hopefully one day they will lead the country to a better future. We are lucky to be born in this country, and to have a roof over our heads and food on the table. Lots of kids in Armenia aren't so lucky.

Please help me in making a difference in their lives
by supporting
Mer Hooys.

REMOVE THE OLD - INFLATE THE NEW

Men -- you've got it easy!!

I am fast learning what the words "determination" and "perseverence" really mean. As I progress through my unexpected encounter with breast cancer, I have acquired a profound respect for those who have traveled the road to recovery before me. Without determination to get it over and stay healthy in mind at the end, and without perseverance in achieving that goal, the journey would be nearly impossible.

On February 3, 2010, I woke at 5 a.m., showered, and readied myself for the ten minute ride to West Hills Hospital. My cousin Susan has been my chauffeur for these many early morning trips to WHH. I was directed to my room on the 6th floor, where I waited for the trip down to the operating room. At 7:30, I took that ride on the OR gurney, and was placed in the OR "hold" area until my surgeons and anesthesiologist arrived. I had become very familiar with that "hold" area over the past several months -- this was my 6th surgery since July 2009!

I had a great team - one general/oncological surgeon (who had been there with me for the 3 lumpectomies), two plastic surgeons (brothers who operate in tandem - one boob each), and a wonderful anesthesiologist who had been with me on two prior surgeries. Each of them greeted me, tried to make me feel at ease - fat chance! - and then the circus started. The general surgeon performed a double mastectomy, assisted by the two reconstructive surgeons -- first he removed the breast tissue in one breast, assisted by one of the plastic surgeons, and then he moved to the other, assisted by the other brother. While they were carving up breast #2, the first PS started reconstruction work on the first breast. The two surgeons working on the 2nd breast then switched roles, and started reconstruction. That included insertion of a silcone "spacer" with a port, which would eventually be filled, periodically over several weeks, with saline to expand the muscle and skin until I was as "big as I wanted to be". Oh Joy!!

I am lucky because my cousin Roger is on staff at WHH -- I am known as "Dr. Amerian's cousin" at the facility - that entitled me to incredibly supportive "VIP" treatment in every respect. After 5 hours of surgery, and some unknown period of time in recovery (I'm told it was around 2 hours or more) I was rolled back to my room -- which was a semi-private room. I was very lucky that I had the room to myself for what turned out to be an extended stay.

Take my word for it -- having a double M is not fun. But, by Friday morning I was beginning to feel a little better - thanks to a self-directed morphine pain pump, regular pain IV shots, and an automatic pain med pump in the incision areas. But, I don't do anything the easy way -- nope, not I!

Friday I learned that the doctors (all three of them) were not happy with the way the skin looked around the sutures. Necrosis (dying tissue) was setting in thanks to poor circulation. At 4 that afternoon, one of the brothers called me and told me that the surgeons had all agreed that I had to return to the OR and have a 2nd surgery to remove the dying tissue. My alternative was to "wait and see" and most likely come back in a week for another surgery. No way -- I'm there, let's get it done. Of course, that meant trying to get one of my preferred anesthesiologists, and beefing up my resistance for the next surgery. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper.

But, the team came through for me. My anesthesiologist of choice cancelled plans for Saturday and came in for me; the surgeons were there too. And, there I went again, at 9:30 a.m. Saturday, into the operating room, for what turned out to be another 5-hour long surgery. Without going into gory details -- this one involved turning me onto my stomach (thank goodness they did that while I was OUT!!), taking muscle, skin and fat from both sides of my upper back, rolling me onto my back, and grafting that tissue to create two new breasts.

I can honestly say - that second surgery was the "bar exam" of this entire battle -- I woke up in recovery and eventually back in my room feeling like I had a fully inflated inner tube around my upper torso. And, three weeks later, it feels the same!!

Three more days in the hospital, and then I was released to recuperate at my mom and dad's house for the next 10 days. How lucky I was to have my parents there for me, even while Dad was going through his own medical challenges. A few days later, both brothers and my niece Melia joined the crowd, and we spent President's Day weekend as a family. I think this was the first time in at least 25 years that we were all back together as a family in the home we grew up in.

The highlight of that weekend was a duplicate treat -- Dad turned 88 years old, an event we celebrated with a nice dinner and a great chocolate cake! And, Dad's 800+ page book on the history of the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem - 10 years in the making -- was finished and he received the first copy on that Friday. That was a fantastic afternoon - he was so excited!

The birthday kids!

Dad and his publisher, Nahabed

The fog of cumulative anesthesia wore off early the following week. I was able to convince my mom to let me return to my home by mid-week, promising that I wouldn't do anything strenous. Fat chance -- I was lucky to be able to get out of bed and walk to and from the kitchen!

The next few weeks were tough -- lots of pain and swelling, 5 drains that needed measuring and emptying twice a day, extraordinary fatigue, too much TV, lots of sleep, no exercise, and prayers that this torture would eventually go away! Truly -- NOT FUN.

But, I have now passed the 3 week mark, the pain is easing up, the inner tube is still there, I have more stamina (appetite was never an issue), and my surgeons have promised that by 6 weeks I will feel A LOT better. I'm holding them to that promise. And, of course, it will be temporary, because in May or June I'm back in the OR for surgery #7, to replace the spacers with permanent implants. That happens after the spacers are filled up to stretch the muscle under which they are now inserted.

A year from now, all of this will be a memory -- I'll have two beautiful, symmetrical artificial breasts - or so I'm told - and I will be cancer free. That's the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

For now, it's one day at a time. Hour by hour, day by day ... just keep focusing on the prize.

And, as a preview of the prize -- my hair started growing back while I was in the hospital. I still look like a partially bald porcupine, but my hair is coming back - black, white, straight, curly -- it really doesn't matter what it looks like -- it's hair! Wahoo!!!!

CHEMO IS OVER -- YEAH!

The holidays are over and life has moved on into 2010. On January 7, I was happy to finish the last infusion of poison (a.k.a. "chemotherapy"). I am still receiving infusions of the targeted drug Herceptin weekly through January, and then tri-weekly until September, But, that drug has few noticeable side effects. Wahoo!!

Chemo is not fun - but, now that it is over, I can say it is a tolerable experience, if you have a decent attitude. The side effects are cumulative -- the worst are muscle fatigue (which I understand takes months to overcome) and sore toe and fingernails - go figure! Of course, and NO HAIR! But, soon I am expecting to see some spikely little black strands of hair poking out of my scalp, no doubt causing some itching. OK -- that's really OK! It's HAIR!

Of course, the holidays didn't pass by without incident. Despite being extra careful to stay away from people who had colds and the flu, the stomach flu hit me with a vengeance right after Xmas. And, it hit lots of my family members too -- not the first time the Amerians got together for the holidays or a special event, and then ended up with lots of homes loaded with sick people! Fortunately, all are well now.

We had a great time with my niece and nephews over the holidays -- Santa stopped at my house with a TRUCKLOAD of presents for the kids -- all of which Aunty was privileged (ha!) to wrap and schlepp over to Grandma and Grandpa's house where all were staying. The chaos that went into the 15 minutes of opening those gifts was something I'll never forget! So much for neat folds, and careful placement of tape!

In January, I began to become more active at work, now that training is complete. I have started mediating cases, and preparing for the time when I will hear my first case and have to write a legally complicated decision. That comes in April, after I return from medical leave.

Next, it's time to remove the "boobies" ... I will be having a double mastectomy and the beginning phase of reconstruction on February 3. I'm told to expect to feel like a Mac Truck has come to rest on my chest when I wake up. Oh joy! Well, positive thinking -- it won't last forever. But, don't expect me to be a happy camper for the first few days -- I have no intention of doing so!

Knowing that I will be out of work for 6 weeks, not able to lift, push, or do anything strenuous, I have been a busy bee in the kitchen. I've made plenty of spaghetti sauce, turkey chili, turkey burgers, Armenian burgers, soup, and dolma (stuffed veggies and grape leaves). All of it is packed away in the freezer -- Mom won't have to worry about what to feed me, and when I get home I'll be ready to recuperate without having to worry about what to eat. Like that ever stopped me!

Life goes on ... our family is facing its challenges early in the year. My Dad - who will be 88 years old on Valentine's Day -- is facing some medical challenges that will change his daily routine. But, I'm so proud of him -- he has written an 800 page book on the history of the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem. The book has been in process for nearly 10 years. Dad has done an an astounding amount of research in books of many languages to gather information for this book -- the first of its kind in English. Once published, it will be distributed throughout the world to a variety of places. This has been a dream of my Father's life -- and it is nearly complete.

Dad is also writing his memoirs, and we are encouraging him to keep at it -- his mind is clear and his life is so interesting that it is important to get it written. He has finished 300 pages - and I think he's at about 25 years old at that point! Dad was born in Baghdad, studied at the Armenian Seminary in Jerusalem where he became very close friends with Torkom Manoogian -- now the Patriarch of Jerusalem; he later studed at the American University of Beirut, Lebanon. He speaks 5 or 6 languages, is a writer, an expert on the history of the Armenian Church, and, after coming to the United States, he became an engineer and worked on the first of many space vehicles that went into space. His later years were spent as a real estate broker. What an interesting life ... I can't wait to read those memoirs!

The picture below is a picture of Dad, cousin Lita Dulgarian and Mom -- great friends and cousins going back to the late 40's when my Dad came to California. Cousin Dick Dulgarian recently passed away just short of his and Lita's 60th Anniversary. Life as we get older is tough because we begin to lose those we love. But, as hard as that is, and even though we know the time is to come sooner than later, the best thing we can do is enjoy the time we have with our loved ones, and work at making memories that will last a long time.



Following our trip to Turkey in June 2009, my brother Brian and I have been trying to contact family members to update our family tree and the history of our extended family. Brian has done an amazing job so far -- visit our website! And, if you are a member of the family, contact Brian and let him know of any updates, historic pictures, and anecdotes of the family.

Dear Santa: Please Leave Me Some Hair! Cookies and Brunch Eggs Are Waiting For You!

This is a year of change for me. Change is good, and sometimes it hurts -- a lot! In late February, I lost a dear friend and mentor to cancer, John Yaldezian. John led a full life, and although he suffered in his last weeks, his time on this earth was well spent, and he was well loved and respected by his large family, his extended family, and his many friends.

Over the next several months, I traveled to my family's ancestral home of Dickranagert (eastern Turkey), I was diagnosed with cancer, I became a judge, and I started chemotherapy after three lumpectomies.

Not enough for a year? Nope, not for this kid.

In this past week, I turned 60 years old, and I lost to an assassin one of my dearest friends, a professional colleague, and personal mentor Jeff Tidus. What chemo hasn't killed in my poor body, this tragic event has. I'm told adversity in life makes one stronger -- my faith in that advice is truly being tested as I will my already beaten body into submission, and continue my fight against the invader, as Jeff would have wanted me to.

But, it isn't easy to combat grief, and cancer, at the same time. I draw on strength I never knew I had ... thanks to my late grandmother's fortitude, the support of my family and friends, and the knowledge that Jeff would have wanted it that way. I grieve for his family, who was his life. God has a plan ... I just wish I knew what His plan was.

Shortly after I wrote my last blog, I received an email from Jeff -- his response to my latest post was "You are my hero. I admire your courage and your strength."

Ditto back ... for the past 11 1/2 years, Jeff mentored me through the start of my own private practice, my mediation/arbitration work, my development of skills as a good lawyer, and, right up to the day before he died, my battle with cancer and my new job as an administrative law judge. We were each other's heroes ... Rest in peace, my friend.

As I approach chemotherapy treatment #5, I revel in the fact that I have gotten through the first four in relatively decent shape. No hair, fingernails may fall out, tired as one can get -- but, I'm still kicking!

My acupuncturists tells me that I look better than a lot of her patients going through similar treatment. My blood levels are decent (thanks to shots of Neulasta, and Iron supplements), my energy not so decent, but I'm getting by, and I will be done with this toxic invasion in another month. Lots of supplements, lots of rest, no exercise (not so good), and eating whatever tastes decent. I'm lucky to have cousins and friends who cook healthy food for me -- my desire for cooking is taking a vacation during all of this.

It's cold out there, and my head is freezing! So, when will my hair grow back? Have I been a good girl, Santa? Can I have a real head of hair as a Christmas present? Yeah, I know -- next year. OK.

Over the past month, and two more treatments down, I made 60 pounds of Adi's famous fudge, with the help of cousins Sandy and Susan. Definitely "back-breaking" work -- something Sandy learned when she found out a day later that a fall from a ladder the day before had broken her vertebrae and foot!

I finished most of my training as an ALJ, and am nervously awaiting the day when I will be thrown out to the wolves and have to do my first mediation and hearings in Special Education. I'm over the hump, and heading toward the first finish line.

On February 3, I will have a double mastectomy and reconstruction, and recuperate for 7 weeks. Then, I'll hopefully start hearings at work and moving on toward the next surgery in May, and eventually a full recovery in the Fall.

So, what have I learned so far? It's all about a positive attitude. That's not a cliche -- it's true. One can either revel in one's misery, and feel lousy all the time, or pick oneself up and just keep moving along. Tomorrow will happen whether I plan for it or not (except when some sicko decides it's time to snuff out the candle). If it comes, then I'll deal with it. If not, then today I lived the best day I could have lived. Seeing how quickly one life can so easily be ended, I realize that each day has to be lived to the best and fullest -- without regret.

So, enough with morbidity! Here are a few recipes that will help you get through the holidays and feel like a gourmet chef!

ADI’S CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

Makes about 32 cookies

Ingredients: (this can easily be doubled – use a 4 quart saucepan)

2 cubes unsalted butter

¾ cup dark brown sugar

¾ cup granulated sugar

2 eggs (room temp)

1 T vanilla

2 ¼ cups flour (or substitute 1 cup oatmeal)

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp iodized salt

2 tsp cinnamon

2 cups chocolate chips or to taste

1 cup unsalted toasted almonds

½ cup toasted chopped pecans (available at TJ’s)

½ cup currants

Directions:

Melt butter over low heat in a 4 quart saucepan. Add both sugars and stir until dissolved and carmel-like. Remove from heat and carefully add eggs one at a time, stirring to insure that you don’t cook the eggs. Add vanilla.

Put dry ingredients into a sifter and sift into the sugar/butter/egg mixture – or use a mesh strainer (or mix salt/soda/cinnamon with some of the flour to insure it is blended). Mix until moistened. Make sure the batter is cool to touch. Add the nuts, chips and currants. Mix.

Refrigerate the batter in a bowl or plastic container overnight. Remove and let soften slightly. Scoop into small balls, place on parchment paper and bake at 375° for about 11-12 minutes. Don’t let them get too dark – they should be lightly golden but still soft looking. Remove paper onto cooling rack.

Batter can be frozen – either in a lump, or after making into small individual balls and flash freezing. ENJOY!

BRUNCH EGGS

10 eggs

1 pint cottage cheese

1 lb Monterey Jack Cheese, shredded

1 7-oz can chopped chilies (ortega)

½ cup flour

1 tsp baking powder

½ tsp salt

canola spray, or 2-3 Tbsp butter

Melt the butter in the bottom of a 9x13 casserole and coat bottom and sides. Or, spray with vegetable spray. The butter browns the bottom and sides better than the spray.

Whisk the eggs in a large bowl. Add the remainder of the ingredients and mix. Pour into the pan. Chill overnight so flavors will blend. Remove about 1 hour before baking. Heat oven to 350°. Bake about 35-40 minutes, until the eggs are set and the casserole is golden brown.

This can sit in the oven for 15-30 minutes with the temperature off and it will be fine.

Variations:

You can make this with low fat cottage cheese and 2 percent jack cheese. It is a little runnier and not quite as rich, and you may have to increase the flour slightly. I sometimes add additional chilies for a stronger flavor. Personally, I prefer it exactly the way the recipe is written.

This recipe serves 10-12 people. It can be increased to 1 ½ times for a 4 quart casserole. It will serve 20-22 people if you have other brunch items also. Or you can decrease by ½ and put in a nine inch square casserole for 4-6 people.

Enjoy!

Anything is possible -- halfway through the chemo marathon

Today I completed my third chemotherapy treatment. I have learned a lot of "tricks" over the past 6 weeks, and I have learned a lot of lessons. Lesson one -- hair keeps your head warm!

But, first, before I share my lessons with you, I want to share an event that gave me the biggest boost I could have asked for -- my dear cousin Ken is going through a similar challenge. On September 12 his wife Harriet had a surprise 60th B'day party for Ken, inviting his many Trex fraternity brothers, as well as cousins - many of whom have been close friends for decades. She include me, my mother, and my cousin Roger. That evening was one of the most memorable, happy evenings I have ever experienced. We all had a great time visiting, reminiscing, and enjoying our time with cousin Ken. Ken and I were close during our childhood days in Inglewood, and when we were in our 20's. I was so happy to share a few minutes with Ken one on one, knowing that he and I were both fighting a battle that strikes so many of our generation. Courage -- that is a word that crossed my mind that night -- Ken is fighting his battle with courage, and I intend to do the same.

Ken, Adi, and Judy M -- all survivors!

Cousin Ken and Adi -- always eating!

Aunt Betty, Harriet and Adi

Ken and Harriet

CHEMOTHERAPY -- NOT A BAD WORD, JUST BAD STUFF WITH A GOOD PURPOSE

The infusion of chemotherapy itself is not difficult, especially after having a porto-cath surgically inserted into the chest. No more stabbed veins having to bear the brunt of infusion. One tiny little pin-prick stick into the port, and the rest is easy. Each treatment lasts about 4 hours -- first the steriods, anti-nausea meds, and benedryl, then Herceptin, Taxotere and Carboplatin, one at a time, dripping into my vein. I find myself sleeping through most of the procedure - thanks to the Benydryl. On the "off weeks" I go in for Herceptin infusions - those last about 30 minutes.

The side-effects of the toxic chemicals flowing through my blood stream are more challenging. Dry mouth leads to sores in the mouth. Lots of them -- and, I found (I think) the solution by brushing with Biotene. Chemo round 2 - no canker sores! Yea!

The anti-nausea meds play havoc with the GI system -- I seriously considered checking into the ER at West Hills hospital on day 6 to request assistance with "delivery". Enough said ... thank you Milk of Magnesia, Dulcolax, and prunes!! I'm armed after session three with all of the tools I think will help --- let's see if they work.

Blood levels and blood pressure go crazy -- pulse rates at 115, BP at 150/99, low hemoglobin, low iron, low white blood cells, and then all of that reverses. And, the weight goes up and down by 10 pounds every week - - water, "stuff", then no water, no "stuff" -- one really learns to get in touch with ones entire body in a unique way.

Neulasta injections are the next thing on the agenda -- that drug stimulates white blood cell growth and helps the immune system -- and, it's like going through growing pains for a day. Those injections will follow each chemo treatment, beginning tomorrow. My lucky brother Brian has been designated to inject me on Thanksgiving (doctor's office is closed) -- payback time!!

And, thank you Lauren -- my savior -- her acupuncture treatments and plan for taking numerous supplements (herbal and vitamins) have helped me stay balanced and supporting my waning energy levels, all with my oncologist's blessings!

NO HAIR LEFT? LOOK AT THE POSITIVE SIDE!

When I was little, I had thick curly hair. Before chemo, I had thick straight hair -- a beautiful dark auburn hair with red streaks. At 60, I will be partially bald, with a thin layer of white hair. And, next spring, I will again see the curly hair, not dark but salt and pepper -- the cycle begins again.

Just as predicted, about 14 days after the first chemo, my hair started shedding. Sorry - no pictures of that one! The day after the 2nd chemo, I had my hair buzzed, leaving a fine layer of hair on my head. Within another week, after a few "hair"-washings with soothing tea tree oils, all of the dark hair was gone and I was left with a very fine layer of white hair covering my blotchy scalp. The Dustbuster was my friend for two weeks - vacuuming the bathroom, the pillows, the beds, and around the bed.

Losing one's hair - particularly when the hair is a notably thick and beautiful - is a very humiliating experience, for a short time. And, it hurts! The follicles tighten up and my scalp actually hurt for two weeks -- somewhat like having a pony tail too tight.

I had to accept that I looked like a pumpkin, temporarily. I had to accept that I had white hair (covered by a very talented colorist for many years!). I had to accept that I am a cancer SURVIVOR, because I look at myself like that every single day in the mirror.

And, I had to accept that I had two choices -- fight it, beat it, and get on with life, or live in denial and depression. So, as I stood in the shower on that second Sunday, rubbing my head vigorously to rid myself of the last of the naturally dark hair, seeing LOTS of hair on my hands and at the bottom of the shower -- I cried a little, and then I looked at myself in the mirror and said DONE. Get over it.

The song "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair" from South Pacific came to mind -- I wasn't washing out the man, I was washing out the CANCER -- and, wow -- the aha moment came to me right then. Big deal, it's only hair.

So, now I am brave enough to go without a hat around my family (once the shock subsides) and around the house, and it feels good. But, hair keeps the head and body warm -- and my head gets cold at night! Thanks to my cousin Judy M. who sent me a great cozy knitted cap that is soft and comfortable -- I wear that to bed a night.

And, I have lots of cute little cotton turban hats, brimmed hats, and scarves for accessories, and I wear the combos to work every day. I've worn the wig once - not my favorite thing - but, it works for formal events (like a formal group photo with my fellow judges in a few weeks). I'm becoming a fashion statement at work -- my new colleagues have suggested that they would have a day where everyone wears a hat to work in honor of my battle with cancer.

LOTS OF LOVING FRIENDS AND FAMILY MAKE THIS AN EASY ROAD TO FOLLOW

Judge Krikorian ... wow, a dream come true!

I go to work as a JUDGE every day, tired, sometimes queasy, sometimes achy, and not always in a good mood. But, I go. And, I just cannot say enough about how incredibly supportive every one of my new colleagues at the Office of Administrative Hearings is and has been, particularly my presiding judge Ann. I am training, learning a new area of law, new procedural techniques and rules, and new rules and regulations. The training and Friday furloughs have given me the ability to go to work, even when I don't feel well, and get through the day without a really rigorous schedule. Once this is over, I intend to hit the ground running and put the energies I am now focusing on getting healthy into my job and take on my share of the workload that my colleagues are selflessly absorbing as I get through these challenges. What a team we have in Van Nuys!

Friends, Family, Neighbors ... lots of support!

What has made this process feasible is the overwhelming support I have received from those around me. I will never be able to repay the kindness and generosity that has come my way.

The phone calls and cards from many friends asking what they can do for me mean a lot -- that alone helps me stay focused. I am learning to accept help and rides to treatments. My cousins Sandy, Susan, and Debbie, and my mom and dad (brave in the face of watching their daughter enduring this challenge) have come to the hospital during and after every surgery, and cooked for me regularly, keeping my refrigerator stocked with healthy food I can eat, and supported me with love. Cousin Frances and my dear friend Alice have kept me company at the hospital, supported me, and made Dolma for me (thank you Alice!!). Natalie has given me massages and energy work. Lucy Y. and Lauren (my acupuncturist) have given me CDs to listen to, and have provided me with positive energy. Nadya V. and Judy M. have been there for me, sharing their own similar experiences and giving me tips and encouragement!

Laurel K., Lorraine P, cousin Janis, and childhood friends Barbara H. and Joanie F. have offered me respite in their homes on the beach, at the desert, in the mountains and in the countryside. My neighbors Julie and Steve have been there for me whenever I have needed anything, including rides to the hospital and house chores. And, it goes on and on and on! Wow!! I'm going to have to make a LOT of fudge for the holidays!!

IS THIS EASY? NOT! IS IT DOABLE? YES!

I cannot wait until Chemo is over. That's the darn truth -- I hate this!! But, what other choice do I have?

So, I have chosen to feel lousy when I feel lousy and accept feeling lousy for short time, and being grouchy! And, then I pick myself up, get on with life and face it the way Patrick Swayze did -- I may have cancer but I will not let cancer get me.

What's next -- Chemo the day before Thanksgiving, my 60th birthday 6 days later, then more chemo, then Christmas, New Years, and then one more chemo. Three weeks later (or so), I have a double mastectomy and take a leave of absence from work for 6-8 weeks. Then, hit the ground running until May, when the 2nd surgery for reconstruction happens. Then, more Herceptin through Fall. And, then, ... healthy and traveling again.

Tricks of the trade --

Cancer doesn't like sugar. Adrienne likes sugar. So, right now cancer wins this battle -- metallic tasting See's candy isn't my favorite flavor, so I've stayed away as much as possible from too much sugar. Dark chocolate occasionally -- a box of See's candy has NEVER lasted in my house more than two days, until now! Wahoo! Something good comes of this nightmare.

Ginger helps nausea -- ginger ale, ginger candies, ginger tea, ginger biscuits, even ginger locum -- just make sure it has real ginger in it! Ignore the sugar.

Water -- I HATE water! It tastes like metal! But, tea works, coconut juice works, and stewed mint leaf tea works ... water, well - it is a necessary evil!

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My favorite "mix" for keeping the food moving through the system (and a good side dish under more normal circumstances):

Fruit compote:

1 small can of orange juice concentrate
1 package of dried prunes, pitted
1 package (or about 1/2 pound) dried apricots
1/3 pound dark raisins
8-10 dried mission figs (Trader Joe's)
1 fresh pear, peeled and cut into chunks
3 cinnamon sticks
1 cup water
fresh ground nutmeg

Place all of the above in a saucepan, bring to a gentle boil, then simmer 20-30 minutes until the fruit is soft and liquid is absorbed.

Serve with cottage cheese, yogurt, oatmeal, or as an accompaniment to roasted pork tenderloin.

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Exercise is necessary but hard during chemo -- after 12 years of weight training twice a week with my friend Hilda, I'm taking a break on the recommendation of my oncologist. Stretching at home, light free weights for upper body, occasional bike riding (in the bedroom) will have to do it for now. My body needs to send its energy to other places to heal.

No razor needed! No hair grows during chemo - so, no leg waxing, no shaving, no plucking. Wahoo!!

Avoid salt, spicy foods, and things with strong odors. Drink lots of water. Eat foods rich in potassium, iron, fiber, without salt, and anything that tastes good. But, avoid favorite foods unless you want to hate them when it's all over.

Use the Internet -- there are so many websites out there that refer us to sources of support -- not just for cancer, but for specific issues -- like "how do I resolve constipation when I can't walk" "what works for nausea" "where do I find hats for hair loss" ...

Draw on your faith, pray and take 10 minutes every day to just be inside your own self. Don't be afraid of fear, and draw on your inner strength to pull through -- a real challenge. This is easier for me with the support of my dear friends Fr. Sarkis and Fr. Shnork, who are praying for me.

Surround yourself with friends and family - maybe not in person, but by email, over the phone, a quick dinner out, or just a quick visit.

These things are not limited to someone going through treatment for cancer or some other disease - many cancer survivors have told me that once they are finished with their treatment, their lives change -- they look at life, and the people around them, differently. Their priorities change, their stress level in life changes -- the little things don't matter anymore.

Slowly but surely, I see these things are happening to me ... I am learning to let go of the predictable lifestyle, the predictability I have always tried to have over my life, and just let it all happen -- because, like it or not, it will. It's how I deal with what happens that matters, not what may happen.

That's it for now. More recipes to follow in the coming weeks -- if I can't cook, I might as well share the recipes for my friends! Thank you everyone for being there for me ... it is the most priceless gift one could ever ask for.

YO Adrienne! First Day of Chemo -- Five More to Go

YO ADRIENNE!

A river runs through me tonight, and it’s not just red and white blood cells.

Thursday, I spent the entire day (7 hours) having my first chemotherapy and Herceptin treatment. I prepared myself by having a great massage and energy work by Natalie K on Wednesday, and then started the morning of chemo at the gym working out some of my anxiety – thank you to my dear friend and personal trainer Hilda for understanding and being there for me.

Then, my neighbor, Julie, drove me to chemo, brightening my day with the gift of a lovely Brighton Breast Cancer bracelet. I am one of the luckiest people to have such great neighbors for fourteen years – they are such wonderful friends, including their dog Maggie, who has helped fill the huge gap in my life that Benj left last August.

I joined 4 other chemo patients in the infusion center at the oncologists office, and waited for my turn – the oncology nurse, Sylvia, was the best – patient, explaining every step, showing a much-needed sense of humor, and easing what was obviously one very anxious “me”. It’s amazing to me how cancer patients quietly band together – several of the people in that room saw my tremendous anxiety and shared comforting words with me that helped me make each step a little easier. My friend and fellow “A” Angel H. and friend Nadya V have been a great support in that respect, as well.

Being a dental hygienist does not equal being at ease with needles! Insertion of the IV was probably the most traumatic part for me – I’ve been poked, stabbed and injected so many times in the last 2 months that the idea of having an IV every week for the next six months, and then every three weeks after that (not to mention the two upcoming surgeries) is almost more than I can bear. My veins are not the greatest, and I expected “trouble” - - unnecessarily. Not sure that I won’t still need a “chest port” (ANOTHER surgery) in a few weeks, but I’m going to at least try to avoid that if I can.

One does not just get one big blast of chemo at one time. One first gets blood drawn, vitals taken, etc. etc.. Then all the pre-chemo chemicals – steroids (which leave you completely unable to sleep at night!!) and antihistamines for anti-allergy to chemo, anti-nausea drugs, saline, who knows what else for about 1 hour. Then, one by one, each chemical of the “cocktail” is infused – Herceptin 1 1/2 hours, Taxotere 2 hours (I reacted negatively to that drug so we had to slow down the drip to drop by drop – grrr!!), Carboplatin 1 hour, saline flushes from time to time.

Thankfully, my trusty I-pod and the anti-histamine knocked me out – I couldn’t believe that I slept for nearly 1 1/2 hours! I woke up around 1:45 to a much welcomed Starbuck’s iced decaf latte from my mom, who came to keep me company and take me home (HOURS later!). And Mom very thoughtfully brought me ONE PIECE of See’s Candy for a treat after I got home.

Drip, drip, drip – by the 5^th hour, everyone else had pretty much finished their chemo, and I was the only one left in the infusion room. By 5:30, the drips were finally DONE, and I was free to go home. Mom and I stopped to visit cousin Dr. Roger, whose office is in the same building one floor down.

The anxiety over the treatment process was gone (and hopefully the blood pressure will come down), and I felt pretty darn good. I know that this is just the start of this phase – it is the weirdest feeling to have all of this poison running through my veins – and, the next challenge is the side-effects – steroid puffiness, low white blood count and eventually Neulasta (not fun), susceptibility to infection, hair and possibly nail loss, weight gain (NO!!), tingling fingers and toes, fatigue, on and on. But, particularly after talking to my fellow chemo patients today, I realized that I have to focus not on what might face me, but on what is – when the side-effect comes along, I’ll just deal with it.

So, tomorrow it’s stay home and rest – after a bout with my reclining bike, stomach work on the ball, and stretches. And drinking that water that I just CANNOT STAND – ugh --- I have to drink 8-10 cups, at least, a day!!

Then, Saturday, I plan to work out at the gym, ride that bike, and get acupuncture from my friend Lauren – the latter is probably one of the smartest things (next to massage and energy work from Natalie and Debbie) that I have done for myself. No more terrible sciatica and back pain – and, the acupuncture (with oncologist’s blessings) will help me get through side effects.

Sunday, Nazaretian/Hairabedian’s Meals on Wheels will visit with a care package after the Trex Picnic at the Ararat Home. Yummy Armenian Food! Monday, I report to work at 8:30! Wow!!

And, next Friday, my “former” co-workers at Jackson DeMarco in Westlake Village are having a lunch for me to celebrate my appointment to the ALJ position. I’m so grateful and honored to have had the chance to work with my wonderful colleagues in Westlake Village!

This treatment regime will go on until early January, and then I continue the Herceptin until this time next year. In February (moved up from fall) I will have a double mastectomy and the first part of reconstruction – probably facing four weeks off work. Then, in May, part 2 of the reconstruction, with possibly one more minor surgery following.

I’ve been told to avoid crowds while having chemo, and to try to keep my exposure to people limited to avoid infection – of course, try doing that will be challenging when I will be traveling around presiding at hearings and mediations with parents, school district and board of education reps – “You sit at the other end of the table” will probably be my subtle motto. I look forward to visiting with my friends and family in small groups at a time.

Thought for the day: In October, 2006, I had the pleasure of attending the Armenian Bar Association mid-year conference in Philly, and spent several days with my friends Garo, Tanya, and Shake. Garo drove me around Philly, stopping the Philadelphia Art Museum and the famous “Rocky Balboa” stairs – where the statue of Rocky Balboa (aka Sylvester S) lives. I think the picture at the beginning of this post says it all (don’t ask what’s in that bottle – it wasn’t Gatorade!). “Yo Adrienne” never had so much significance! And, notice the hair ... it will return.

Friends Garo and Shake

The Doc and the Judge!