O my gracious, it's.... it's......!

So what's a little sniffly cold?

Even the sturdiest can fall prey to ordinarily innocuous things gone wrong: Pneumonia; funked up flu shots; antibiotics that weaken one's immune system and then aggravate one's lower gastrointestinal tract - double up the probiotics when you're chugging those; dwindled effectiveness, tiresome whether you're depended upon or not; space brain; and why don't I have a roaring winter fireplace so I can torch all of those tissues filling up my waste bin??

I said space brain, yes?

This may well be my first illness in years where I have not collapsed twitching in a heap of fear. Being ill sucks - but when the offstage whispers taunt me, wondering about my blood counts with how low can they go???, followed by anxiety-infused "NOW what do we do???" - I get edgy. And I am blessedly less at the mercy of the what if??'s than before.

I still have white counts and neutrophils that set off alarms under the best of circumstances. Nurses from the hospital used to warn me about What Could Happen if I left my white-walled prison too soon, before those chemo-ravaged counts could crawl back up again. "Sepsis," one nurse intoned. "What's that?" I asked. Evidently it's when everything goes completely to hell and then you die.

"Fine. I'll stay another day. Too bad the food sucks here."

By the grace of God, I have been free from western medicine's hospital claws for slightly over two years. Can you dig it? Yeah! Still, after being surrounded with the best intentioned folks in my various social excursions, I have managed to come down with a cold. Akk! Blecch.

This is what I am doing: Prayer; rest and liquids; extra beta-carotene (50K-100K/day), Vitamins C & D3, ImmPower and even finishing up a box of the purportedly white cell-nudging ProBoost leftover from last year; s-l-o-w-i-n-g d-o-w-n; breathing; moving my bod just enough to keep the gremlins from stiffening my joints too much; praying over a still-good box of Zithromycin and remaining calmly open to taking it if it seems warranted; letting all this be a grace. And doing it again.

This is what I am NOT doing: Chasing down my healing team in a breathless panic; getting blood draws and freaking out to see the counts not on their best behavior; and being really really afraid, which kicks your immune system's butt. Not in a good way.

Added to this morass of unwellness has been a dermatological sideline as well - mystery spots! Itchy ones. Even with a seemingly perfectly valid excuse to lapse into hypochondria, initially eyeing a few itchies on my body had simply led me to sigh and think, "Hmmmm. Visiting someone with a cat. Maybe allergic reactions to a few flea bites? I live in the country. Coulda picked up something…" The short version of this tale of "What causeth these cooties?" includes a rather drawn-out month of worrisome itchies and two biopsies from a dermatologist who even now can only say, "Well, I just don't know for sure!" Of course my inner physician had gone haywire online, attempting to self-diagnose and treat before Dr. Dermo could see me. I bypassed fear and launched into certifiable paranoia. Suspecting "the itch mite" (also known as scabies, which sounds as sexy as leprosy) led me to thunder through my home, washing everything I could get my hands on in THE HOTTEST water, drying on HIGH, scouring floors and staring bleary-eyed at my posh bed while I searched in vain for any signs of little creepy crawlies. I made my own healing salve with essential oils (tea tree, orange & Neem) in a base of witch hazel. It's maddening having a problem and not knowing what it is. "You have this; do THAT." That works for me. One month after first noticing the spots and as I await the results of the 2nd biopsy as well as a culture for staph, I still don't know exactly what's been tormenting my body and psyche.

The doc who can't tell me what I have assures me that I don't have skin cancer. Whatever it is and was seems to be ebbing, thank God. The 2nd biopsy of last Wednesday almost caused me to faint, and my first stitches in 54 years are being covered, cared for and watched before they're taken out in 10 days. I want a lollipop for all of that!

When I was with my friends in Scotland from April-July of 2009, then only months out of the hospital, a "cold" would produce a high fever and once landed me in Emergency - God bless Alison for taking me there at 11pm! Last year I got some IV vitamins dripped into my veins that threw in a Herxheimer effect for good measure. This year I have prayed, NOT gotten CBCs while my immune system is working it to overcome these things, taken sensible measures, and prayed some more. "LORD, You'll heal me or take me home. Let it be so according to Your Will for me!" This year, the thrashing has eased greatly even if the itching and visual ikkies are a new thorn in the flesh.

I have mystery spots and a sniffly cold.

Normal people get colds and then get well. I shall also, by God's most loving Grace.

a new day in quiet

This stained glass window is from the Chapel at Bishop's Ranch near Healdsburg, CA… my not even 2-day Silent Advent Retreat. The retreat center had been overseen by the Society of St. Francis in, I believe, the 1970's and '80's. The stained glass windows are a testament of Franciscan gratitude to "Brother Sun," "Sister Moon," "Brother Fire" and many other aspects of God's glories here on earth and in the heavens. "My Lord be praised...." they all say over and over.

I'm allowing this first day of 2011 to be a private retreat of my own, punctuated with the odd phone call and later sharing a "good luck meal" with two friends from my parish … a couple I'd run into at the Northgate Mall last night after running an errand at Macy's and pondering a film I ultimately did not see. I returned home to say Evening Prayer, candles ablaze. And take two bites of naughty chocolate cheesecake (shhhh!).

It is quiet.

My soul has yearned for quiet and I'm letting the Holy Spirit shush my jittery jagged should machine. Another breath. Raindrops, then my furnace kicking on again. Not far away the shoulds are glowering, hissing to judge. "Not enough!" a bony finger twitches.

I breathe again and thank God for the quiet.

While one of the blessings of Bishop's Ranch is their kitchen staff - and the joys of being served such glorious food! - I can savor my own bed even while the odd challenge gnaws away at me. I am rarely devoid of "…but what about THIS????" I am praying through more instances of their shrill jabs. I can be accountable to the Lord and not unduly idle… and taking restorative time feels, right now, like a gift. I know how to giddyup. God knows that, too.

One of today's gifts is peace. Today is a good day to be softly happy and alive.

darkness and light

"Once in Royal David's City, Stood a lowly cattle shed…."

I shared in my Centering Prayer group last night that I felt I'd "failed" Advent. I had begun it with earnest intention to go inwardly in preparation for the celebration of the coming of Christ. In the shorter days I began to allow a more interior beingness take place. I had even booked a 2-day Silent Advent Retreat at the nearby Bishop's Ranch outside of Healdsburg.

By the time our little Chancel Choir was dress rehearsing for the Really BIG Christmas Eve service, I had allowed myself to fall headlong into the seasonal frenzy. I could feel it the weeks before Christmas. I couldn't seem to insulate my spirit from the incessant DO DO DO! GO GO GO! Buy this, plan that, make SURE of THIS! I was full-tilt ADD, knee-trigger WHAT'S NEXT? girl. It's not surprising that my blood counts were slightly worse for the wear this month, after I had crowed about their Meaningful Increase just weeks prior. Platelets: MOVE IT!

By the Christmas Eve caroling and 11 pm Eucharist service I felt like a wobbly cardboard cutout. Where was my experience of magical wonder and spiritual emergence? "I know I'm pushing it," I told myself. "I know this isn't really the best for my health on any counts." And while I continued to praise my disciplined Advent chocolate avoidance (now enthusiastically relinquished) plus read Morning and Evening Prayer most days from this wondrous publication called Magnificat, I found myself tango'ing with the old dynamic that I thought I'd dropped…. playing a Red Shoes kind of drama with "never enough."

It's Monday, December 27th. There's a lovely pale fog in my Novato front yard. My work with the markets, which consists primarily of trying to make sense of the diabolically senseless, may be easier this week. The BIG CRASH!! I've been poised for since this past SUMMER! remains a distant rumor yet continued possibility. I'm locked in a very stressful battle with Alta Bates Summit Hospital, who are justifying charging me over a thousand dollars in co-pays just to walk through their doors twice to have seen my oncologist Dr. Krijanovsky. He's been paid! The labs have been paid! The hospital wants more blood. Guess who's taking them to the local media and possibly an attorney? Sigh. Breathe. Pray! Can I fight the good fight without getting my knickers in a knot? Just when I tell myself that I'll have a quiet day, along comes some avoidance or outrage and like the quintessential Pavlovian, I'm off to the races, drooling.

I am still a work in progress.

Above is a photo of our choir. Even though my choir director chewed me out for asking someone to take photos (dude! I had asked him not to use the flash! Don't yell at ME!)…. even though I was bleary-eyed dreading singing the really way too hard Poulenc without another six months of rehearsal….even though I thought, "Lord, I love you… but it's awful late to be in Church….), I was present and GRATEFUL. Two years ago I spent Christmas in a leukemia ward. (Alta Bates has already extracted their pounds of flesh for THAT). I didn't cry, although I almost did during a few rehearsals. I am less triggered and more grateful, less terrified and more soberly aware.

Still. It's not easy to know that death could come knocking when I have not invited it. I have no cheese and crackers for you; go away! I thought I'd be saving these musings for 30 years hence. I am shifting from really quite afraid to slightly more accepting. And in fact, in very rare moments, I feel an eagerness to leap into the Lord's arms… and see again those I love who have already left this planet. I guess when I'm tired I think more about death.

I'll get more CBC's this week as I feel guided. The requisition form is ready to download and print out. I have to watch my blood counts even though I am not my lab values.

It's a little later. The fog is beginning to clear here in Novato.

It's almost Christmas and I think I'm gonna make it....

take two, they're small....

Behind every capsule I take is a fairly significant body of research, either my own or that of my healing team. In the past nearly two years since I stepped away from my last hospitalized chemo treatments, I have melded

and shaped this list from "anything I could get my hands on that might help me not have leukemia come back!" to supplementation that is more intelligently pointed towards rebuilding the me that was vulnerable to come down with this thing in the first place.

In lieu of spending the next two hours assiduously adding hyperlinks, I'll let any curious minds use Google to further their own investigation. You are also welcome to email me - I am happy to share my experience.

The ever-present caveat applies: There are no guarantees - except, for me, in God's love in His Son Christ Jesus. I have nothing to prove here. Each day is a gift! I have wanted to share in the spirit of "this is what I'm doing" rather than considering that I could offer advice - save for prayer! - to anyone else.

So! I pray and worship; I work; I exercise; I cherish my friendships; I nourish myself; and I take this stuff!

On an empty stomach 2x/day: Marrow Plus (Ji Xue Teng) by Health Concerns (2 tablets each time), then separated by about 20 minutes, Wobenzym-N by Garden of Life (2-3 each time). Earlier this year (April-Sept.) I took Vitalzym instead of Wobenzym.

The remainder I take with meals 1-2x/day:

Pine Street Clinic AML customized Chinese Herbal Formula*– 1-2 caps - and that IS

Ba Ji Tian

Bai He

Bai Hua She She Cao

Ban Zhi Lian

Chen Pi

Dang Shen

Dong Chong Xia Cao

Du Zhong

Gou Qi Zi

Hai Zao

Huang Qi

Tien Men Dong

Yi Yi Ren

MULTI: I vary them, zeroing in on whole food types. For example, Raw One for Women by Vitamin Code OR 2/2x daily Nutri-Essentials Plus by North Shore Nutriceuticals (developed by integrative oncologist Dr. Keith Block).

Super Omega-3 EPA/DHA by Life Extension, 2/day OR Parent Essential Oil- 2 caps / 2 times daily (has Evening Primrose Oil in it).

ImmPower by American Biosciences - 2-5x/week

Mega Green Tea Extract (98% polyphenols) by LifeExtension

Resveratrol (various brands) alternated and combined with Grape Seed Extract

Methylselenocysteine 200 mcg. - 1-5x/week

Vitamin C - 1000 mg. with bioflavonoids

Curcumin (various brands)

Digestive enzymes with meals: Betaine HCL 648 mg. and/or Maxi-Zyme Caps by Country Life.

Probiotics, e.g. Udo's Choice Super 8 Hi-Potency or Ultimate Flora Advanced Immunity.

Calcium - 3A Calcium Formula – 3 caps daily.

Vitamin D3-5 by Bio-Tech (5000 I.U.) - upping my dose to 2-3x/day for the winter.

Beta-Carotene (25,000 i.u.)

Hepatrophin PMG (liver pills!) by Standard Process, 1-2x/day

"Recovery" and "Bone-Stem" Aura Therapy Patches (Bio-Magnetic Systems Ltd.). Don't laugh; that and the liver pills saw the most improvement in my stable but very low blood counts for the 1st time in 18 months.

Several times a week I make a Green Smoothie (e.g. organic greens with fresh/frozen fruit, Tbsp. maple syrup and water) OR a custom "Power Drink" with Emergen-C, 1 T. Emerald Energy Defense green powder , Trace Mineral Drops (by Liqui-Mins), fruit juice, 2 oz. aloe vera juice, 1T. maca, soaked chia seed "gel," a few pieces of soft fruit. Also fresh carrot-beet-apple-ginger juice 2-4x/week.

Pure water! I have an AquaSpace Aquarius Triple Plus with AQUATOMIC® : AQ-435F/AT (AQ-435F/AT) (recommended by Jon Barron). Before that I got reverse osmosis refills from Whole Foods. For a year I've used a RainShow'r filter (with fresh filters, of course). I drink 5-8 glasses of pure water a day between meals.

Quite a list, eh? I try not to make idols of what I'm doing, simply to have a grateful discipline in it all. In everything I give thanks to God (1 Thessalonians 5:18), blessing my food, my water, my handfuls of herbs… breathing in deeply the gift of each new day.

May this be a blessed Advent for everyone reading this.

Food glorious food

Oh what a week! Who amongst you looks forward to a gathering of loving family ties, a table laden with otherworldly delights, a day (or two!) off from work, the pleasures of creating culinary genius in your kitchens? Right. Same here. I'm jagged midway between my hourly conviction to welcome such goodness along with my DNA hounding me otherwise, from memories of rabid dysfunction to outright paranoia about what I will and will not be tempted to throw down my gullet. Peace and joy are not too far away, however!

May I pause right now and wish you reading this a truly blessed occasion of giving THANKS to God as you understand God. Gratitude IS big medicine!

"A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." Proverbs 17:22. (NIV)

I was shown that Old Testament line over a year ago in the home of the people whose healthfully laden table you see in my photo. Yes, I regularly boast about Kevin and Jennifer Van Kirk at Hallelujah Acres in prosaic Golden, Missouri, about 45 minutes from Branson.

"A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." Proverbs 17:22.

I suspect that every blog of a fighting cancer warrior includes their path of food and nutrition. How 21st Century hospitals can put multimillion-dollar equipment in their wards, require the most stringent training of all nurses and doctors and yet pile the cafeteria plates with such wretchedness is beyond me! I complained in BOTH of my hospitalizations! My friends brought me organic meals from Whole Foods when they visited! So this post is about Food, Glorious Food - giving thanks to God for God's bounty and sharing a smidgeon of my own "experience, strength and hope" as I continue to rebuild all of me as wisely as I know.

If you have any form of cancer - and I avoid generic references to it as each one is VERY different! - and are searching the Web for wisdom, I pray that the core of your search involves a Divine Source of guidance that informs all of your actions as well as building a team of people you can trust to the depths of your being. I'm not doing this on my own, believe me.

Awright awright - so what do I eat?

After 4-1/2 months as a "high-raw" vegan, two of my now-four holistic healing practitioners made some noises about including meat in my diet. I was appalled. The great and not-so-great thing about running with the raw vegan crowd is that they err on the side of "our way or the highway." Do I think it's a worthy way of nourishing oneself? Absolutely, if you're of a physical and even psychological constitution to benefit from it. I have doubts as to its efficacy as a long-term path. There are raw vegans out there who write books, give lectures and look FANTASTIC. Lord, bless them! And if anyone is on anything that resembles the Standard American Diet (aka the SAD), after some detoxing symptoms, they are going to feel GREAT going raw and vegan. For awhile at least! For myself, having been raised on animal protein from the local Jewish butcher shop, I responded positively to slowly adding it back in.

Being a high raw vegan did not help my blood counts. As it's my bone marrow I'm on a path of healing, that is pretty darn important.

Meaty Caveat: I will not touch feed lot meats of any kind nor fish that is taken from oceans or lakes in a non-sustainable manner. Please see the movie End of the Line regarding the latter comment, and do any amount of online research on "organic meat" to show you how poisonous is eating the flesh of any poor animal tortured in a feed lot environment. It's bad juju and it's bad for the human body, period. I gratefully enjoy organic ONLY red meat and poultry and thank them for helping me to grow in health.

ORGANIC is my rallying cry and commitment to health. Rarely do I touch anything grown commercially with pesticides. I admit that it's in my better interest to eat a non-organic apple (well washed!) than a wholesome organic brownie, even though a part of me will probably always try and steer me towards the latter. Sigh! Fruits and veggies - yeah! - both raw and cooked. The salad bar at Whole Foods and I are very good friends.

NO SUGAR, period. Yes to moderate use of honey, occasionally to agave (current controversies aside), never to Stevia 'cause I don't like the taste.

Almost NO dairy. I simply can't justify it, and as well being a Church singer, I don't want to clog my pipes. Do I yearn for rich creams and cheeses? Duh! I believe that I can get my healthier proteins and fats elsewhere. If it's refined, I look the other way. I lean into wholegrain or sprouted bread and grains, although I endeavor not to overdo.

Plenty of pure filtered water and herbal teas! Hydrate hydrate HYDRATE but not during meal times as it dilutes healthy digestion. I admit to a current run on aged pu-erh teas, which while caffeinated seem to have some health benefits. I haven't had a regular coffee or espresso in over a year, although I do treat myself to Swiss Water Process decaf.

Will I sample yummy naughties on Thanksgiving or other celebratory occasions? Yes.

The most important thing I can say about food is giving thanks. Blessing one's food, every morsel, transports their molecules and healing properties to a goodness I call God's Grace. I try to listen to the unction of the Holy Spirit in how I nourish myself. What good is fanaticism or glowering rigidity? Likewise I pray for Godly discipline, since inside of me is a little cookie monster who will justify and gussy up any chance for a treat. The checkout line at Whole Foods is a particular weak spot for me, with their overpriced organic chocolates whispering, "I'm so small… you've worked so hard for me today!" Nearly 24 years of continuous sobriety ain't got nuthin' on my recovering sugar jones!

If you have any form of cancer, it is crucial how you nourish yourself. Find spiritual and nutritional wisdom that resonates with you. And use common sense. I do not believe that diet alone can cure this monster, however Twinkies and Big Macs are not the way to restore a broken body.

"A cheerful heart is good medicine…" Proverbs 17:22a.

silk flowers for four

"What do you call the place in the wall where one's ashes lay?" I asked. "At a cemetery, it's a grave. What is this?"

"Well," said the nice woman in the second instance of a tone of voice I can only describe as intended delicacy. I'd phoned earlier to ask if certain bits would be there on the grounds. The folks didn't come across as false, but I'm aware that they probably feel they HAVE to be this gentle.

Death. Grief. Loss.

Be nice.

"Well, the wall is called a mausoleum," she said. "If the burial site is large, it's called a crypt. If it's small, it's called a niche." She pronounced it "nitch" and not "neesh."

"Really," I said. "A niche?" My mistrustful issues still churning, I later Googled it. I'd never heard of that before.

{Just now - I am so ADD! - I found a website describing 'solutions for cremation'. Suddenly I'm planning my funeral. Hello! Back to the present moment!}

This is about my mother. And this is about me as well.

My Dad and my brother are buried at Mt. Olive Memorial Park in a gawshawful part of L.A. that used to be near what once may have been called the City of Commerce. I chose that place for my father's burial because he and my mother chose it for little David's funeral. Yes, I've thought of having them moved elsewhere, but that's really taking control issues out into way way left field. After my mother died in August of 1997, three days before Princess Diana, I asked if she could be buried there. "No."

It's a Jewish Mortuary. She's not Jewish.

My half-sister and I found Pacific Crest Memorial Park for our mother Helen. It's in North Redondo Beach. I don't remember why we decided upon it. But I have visited it over the years, mostly perfunctorily. On this most recent trip to L.A., I almost admitted to myself that in my mere 48 hours there, I'd not be visiting my Dad and brothers' sites. I knew however that I needed to visit where mom's ashes lay.

When I last visited in June, it was during an absolute whirlwind L.A. la-la whoosh. For 9 days I dashed from one thing to the next. On that day I was on the phone in the car and while walking over to her corner. That's not on. This time, I very much wanted to be present. I wanted to leave silk flowers for her. There are funky little plastic urn-vases they sometimes have hanging around and other times do not (hence my phone call of the day before). Yes, they would make sure a supply of the little vases were out nearby. Yes, they would make sure the pole was there too, since I can't reach the vase holder.

I went to Michael's Arts and Crafts - you know, the chain that's everywhere - and found some fall offerings on sale for 80% off. I took at least 15 minutes trying to find the perfect combination. I was drawn to their attractiveness rather than the allure of scoring a deal. They had to feel right and look right. Four little bunches for the four of us. I paid $1.71 for them. A dollar seventy-one. They felt as though they were worth much much more.

I don't recall if I always cry when I go there, but I did this time. It was very important to me to have those silk flowers firmly anchored into that nondescript vase. "Stay," I breathed. "Stay. Let others see that someone cares for this woman who lived and died, whose own mother came to this country as an immigrant." I imagined her saying, "I really like these, Danni. Thank you for bringing them for me." Danni was my nickname. My brother David couldn't pronounce "Dianie" when he was very little.

"I'm sorry we had such a hard time," I said.

"Yes, I know," I imagined her saying back.

It was a gentle visit.