Welcome Dear Friends,

In December, 2003, when I began my journey with metastatic breast cancer I created this site as a way to let you know how I was faring. I assumed that this site would be temporary as I’d have surgery, chemo and be just fine in a matter of months. Looking back, I understand that I was in a state of shock. Anyone who has experienced a life-threatening trauma understands precisely what I mean. While each of us may respond differently, we all experience a surreal, nearly out-of-body way of managing. We are on “automatic pilot” or a dream-state, even though we may appear completely normal to those observing us. In a very calm, and naïve way, I said that I’d simply keep living my life with as few interruptions until this strange and unsettling dream concluded, at which time, I’d go back to “life as usual.”

Of course, “life as usual” has never been the same, which is exactly what “life as usual” really is about. However, despite being in an altered state of consciousness, what I wrote in 2003 expresses very well my core beliefs, though it reads as if I were completely in control of my feelings, that I wasn’t worried or scared. In fact, I experienced a full range of emotions, but being in control wasn’t one of them! I was scared but I was sure I’d be fine. I knew very little about cancer, much less metastatic cancer. Two years later, I have a new respect for what it means to have cancer, how many different types of cancer there are, including degrees of severity and aggressiveness, that there are many ways of treating cancer, and we each respond differently to treatment. I also now understand that this “temporary” site may well be up for the duration of my life.

In mid-January of 2004 I learned that I had Stage IV breast cancer, which is considered incurable. I had no more surgery, no chemo and no radiation as Dr. Shapiro felt that quality of my life was important. I responded well to the oral medication I was given, went on with my life, and in November of 2004 we believed that I was in full remission.

In July of 2005, Dr. Richard Shapiro, loved by so many people, died of a massive heart attack at the age of 41. It was a huge shock for us all. It was especially shocking for those of us who believed our lives were far more tenuous than his. (Read Dr. Shapiro’s memorium.)

Dr. Jim Talisman and myself

Dr. Jim Talisman Pomeroy is my new oncologist, a good fit for me. Tal is a research scientist who is very much in favor of national trials as a way of documenting what does and doesn’t work in cancer treatment. He readily admits that “we don’t really know what we’re doing,” but he has dedicated his life to research that will hopefully bring breakthroughs in cancer treatment. Tal is also a social and political activist. When a South county hospital closed its chemotherapy unit, Tal immediately absorbed the mostly Latino patients, even sending a van to bring in patients if they had no transportation. He speaks Spanish and some of his staff are native speakers. He is an advocate of Oriental medicine, including herbal medications and acupuncture. And he is constantly assessing supplements that will help patients on their healing journeys.

Cecilia Rivas is his assistant who facilitates coordinating patients with national trials. She first met Dr. Tal as his 28-year-old patient with aggressive Stage III breast cancer. She has been in remission many for years, had a second child and has worked in his office for nearly ten years. As a woman who has experienced cancer first-hand, she provides compassionate support for new patients.

Cecilia Rivas

A new tumor was found in my liver when I had tests in September, 2005. Additionally, there are bits of cancer throughout my liver and some in my lungs. Tal and Cecy enrolled me in a national trial for women over sixty with metastatic breast cancer. I began treatment in

October. I have chemotherapy once every 28 days for a year unless the cancer does not respond or there are complications. We are currently discussing a change in drugs given my allergic response to the Doxil. However, there are options for overriding the allergy; I’ll know more soon and will post it in my updates.

Two years ago, shortly after my initial diagnosis, I saw Dr. Gyatso and his son Tenzin Jamyang. Dr. Gyatso is a traditional Tibetan doctor; his son is an allopathic doctor, trained in India, and now doing his residency in the United States. Jamyang and his older sister, who also is a doctor, incorporate traditional Tibetan medicine with Western medicine.

Dr. Gyatso confirmed my diagnosis of breast cancer in my liver before it had been proven through Western tests. He put me on a regimen of Tibetan herbs, including the remarkable “Precious Pills” which are filled with purified minerals (in my case they include turquoise). Precious pills take ten months to make and are blessed by a monk chanting prayers while other monks wrap each pill in silk! The prayers add enormous healing qualities to the pills.

Dr. Gyatso

Dr. Gyatso returned to California to teach classes at Stanford University in November of 2005 and then came again to Land of Medicine Buddha where I saw him in December. After a catch-up visit, including the opportunity to meet his daughter, Choge, who manages his medical practice, Dr. Gyatso checked my pulses. He said, “Very good! Very, very good!!” He checked his notes from two years ago and said, “Before, not so good. Now very, very good!”

I interviewed Dr. Gyatso for the book I’m now writing on Faith and Healing in early January, 2006. This time he said, “I think you are going to live a long life. We will watch to see.” I’m all for this, especially now that Theo is nearly two years old and baby Zane has joined our family! (See my photo album.)

Going through chemotherapy isn’t easy. I am still living my life as fully as possible, but not quite as fully as I’d like. I have had an allergic response to the drugs and other side effects as well. My thoughts on how you could help hold true now as they did two years ago:

Give me a call or send a note. If you live close by, take me out for lunch or accompany me to a chemo treatment. We can get a roll and tea from Gayle’s and have a visit. My work schedule is busier than I can manage but I have to be in chemo so it’s a great time to catch up.

Send me humor. I love to laugh. Share your stories, suggest books or movies, send pictures or photos, keep me amused. No one disputes the fact that humor is great medicine both for the giver and the receiver.

Prayer and Meditation. Prayer comes in all forms. No need to bargain with our Creator for my benefit, but rather, send me the strength of your being. My heart is open to your love.

Set a place for me at your celebrations. I adore having a good time. When you have a party or gathering, enjoy the food a little more with me in mind (good food nurtures far more than the body), make space for me to celebrate your harvest, your fortune, the arrival of a new family member, a birthday, a wedding, or a special milestone. Think of how much fun it would be if we could all share in each other’s moments of joy.

Reach out to each other. Make a point of smiling at someone you don’t know. The power of smiling and laughter is both nurturing and contagious. Take a moment to offer a helping hand for someone in need.

Share your thoughts on healing. The anthropologist in me is always fascinated with how each culture has ways of curing dis-ease and healing bodies and spirits. You will not only be sharing this information with me but with each other. We have set up a virtual “chat room” where you can exchange healing ideas, just as we have a “chat room” at The Vanilla.COMpany where visitors can exchange information on vanilla.

Share the stories of your lives with one another! The diversity of our cultures is so very important, but at the core we are all more alike than different from one another, no matter our different languages, religious or spiritual beliefs, the color of our skin, or whether we were born in a small village or big city, in poverty or comfort. While our experiences of life may be different, we all bleed the same color of blood and we all experience wrenching pain, and boundless joy. By sharing our stories we can break down the barriers that have so long kept us separate and join us closer together.

Embrace each day to the fullest. Some of you have shared with me your stories filled with adversity, tragedy, and unimaginable loss. You already know the value of life and how tentative it can be. Those of you who have been blessed with relative ease, send compassion and loving energy out to the many people around the world who have not been as blessed, and be grateful for how fortunate you are.

Dance, Dance, Dance!! It doesn’t matter if you have three left feet or you’re shy beyond imagination, dancing’s the most wonderful way to fill yourself with joy. Dance in the daylight, dance in the dark. “You can boogie in the living room, boogie in the hall, you can boogie, boogie, boogie anywhere at all!”

Hold me in the light just as I hold all of you in the light and in my heart.

I send love and blessings to you all.