Round Three

I think I know why they call them "rounds" of chemO.  It's pretty similar to boxing.  You go in for the 1st Round and get pummeled; you get hit and knocked down.  You stand up and creep into the corner to smell some salt and get stuff put up your nose to help you feel better.  You catch your breath.  Then just as you are feeling ok; just as you clear your head enough to stand up without wanting to sit back down, you go in for Round 2.

Round 3 stinks.  I was down for the count for a couple of days but here I am back up.  Today is Luka's party; she and Scott are downstairs making frosting for ladybug cupcakes.  

I keep going.  Take my millions of vitamins, my turmeric, my maitake mushrooms, my citrus pectin.  I stretch and walk.  Round 3 almost brought me to tears, but here's the thing.  I feel better.   What do you do when you feel sick and crappy and like saying screw it - I don' t feel like drinking another damn cup of green liquid vegetables?  You first decide to go to Costa Rica.  And stay at the most awesome place there (www.tierradesuenos.com).  And what do you do when your doctor puts you on new medicine and you figure out it will be too dangerous to be in a different county in case you need to go to a doctor and you don't know the language?  You quickly decide to go to Hawaii instead.

I am leaving for Hawaii on Thursday.  Sun, yoga, watsu massage, saunas, ocean water.

The other night I couldn't sleep so I tried some visualization and was getting pretty into it.  I was picturing myself swimming through a crystal blue ocean.  I could breath under water.  I felt invincible, calm, and peaceful.  But my window was cracked open and a car must have stopped at the light on our street corner.  Its bass was booming and the beat sounded like the music from Jaws.  Swear to Lordy I ain't lyin.  Can't I even visualize without Jaws lurking around? Sheesh.  I'm going to Hawaii.