Thoughts of both parents around Mother's Day

With two other volunteers in Whately 

I usually walk Maddie into the woods at the end of my driveway to briefly do her business. The other day when she stopped and wouldn't go, I realized it was because I had forgotten to put her collar on.

"Oh, we forgot your collar, let's go back in," I said, and she turned around and obliged.

I usually take it off to "undress" her for the night.

It reminded me of the time my father was walking our dog Sam across the street from our apartment at night and a threatening man emerged from the park. My father jerked on the leash to get Sam to come. His collar slipped off and he froze. So Dad scooped him up and got back to the apartment safely.

Sam was a poodle mix before it was trendy. An affenpinscher-poodle, or affen-poo, or something like that. My mother's friend needed to find a home for him and my parents agreed to take him.

One summer at the beach they said my father was coming back with a Big Surprise.

We thought it might be a boat.

But my father brought home a black dog so small that he could fit in the palm of my father's large hand. Sam ran and hid under the car in our driveway at 77 Coronado St., Atlantic Beach. He of course came out and became a legendary part of the family.

As Mother's Day approached last week, if a person who thinks about their mother all the time could do it even more, I did just that. I took out my mother's handmade cookbook and made Aunt Anna's Company Chicken. I served it to a friend with parsley for garnish and candlelight or mood. (Marinate boneless breasts in dehydrated onion soup mix, whole cranberries and the dark kind of French dressing and cook at 325 for about an hour and a quarter. Before done put pitted black Bing cherries on top.)

For Mother's Day brunch, I put out the flower-rimmed placemats that she used for brunch in the apartment. Everything was beautiful; an artist on paper and in life. Doilies under plates, flowers on the table.

I didn't have enough little bowls of one kind for fruit, so I used a couple of different types and thought of her saying that everything doesn't need to match. Eclectic is more interesting. No milk containers or anything in packages should go on the table. We made an exception for the bottle of syrup.

I was kind of beat. I had gotten up at 4:45 a.m. to drive to Whately for the start of my 6 a.m. volunteer shift (handing out T-shirts) for the Cancer Connection's Mother's Day Half Marathon.

It was cold and rainy. For my last volunteer stint (Bridge of Flowers 10-K) we handed out T-shirts inside a school. I hadn't thought to ask what this would be like. It turns out we were under a tent, only partially protected. I didn't have on enough clothing to be comfortable handing out T-shirts. Luckily I had some gloves in the car but was still cold on this raw day. It took me half a day at least to get warm.

The volunteer coordinator said some volunteers had dropped out (many of them recently treated cancer survivors and patients). Understandably, they didn't want to get sick. I told her that I didn't have an excuse because it's been eight years.

Three of us handing out T-shirts sang and jumped up and down to keep warm. I was never so happy to see a Dunkin Donuts as when I headed out at around 8:30 to get a hot chocolate. All in all I was glad I did it.

With my 45th high school reunion fast approaching, I dreamt that I told someone that I wished it was my 15th and not my 45th. The person said it didn't really matter what year it was because we're all in the same boat by only being sure of this one day.

Too much cancer talk not good before bed

It was a pleasure to be back at the Academy of Music yesterday and see the beautiful theater full of people there to watch a movie, a reminder of old days.

It was actually excerpts from a PBS documentary based on Siddhartha Mukherjee’s Pulitzer Prize-winning 2010 book, “The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer,” produced by Ken burns and directed by Barak Goodman.

When I got the email invite from the  Cancer Connection, I just glanced at it and thought Burns would be presenting the film, as in introducing it, rather than presenting as in producing! But no matter, I was glad I saw the excerpts and the panel discussion that followed.

 I would have gone anyway to the free screening presented by WGBY in advance of “Cancer: The Emperor of All Maladies,” a three-part, six-hour documentary scheduled to air on PBS March 30-April 1.

I had read part of the book, but not all of its 571 pages. Friends had vetted it for me, wondering if, so soon after my last transplant, I would be disturbed by the subject matter.

The book begins with the author, then a young doctor, treating a woman named Carla with acute leukemia, a blood cancer which "still sends a shiver down the hospital's spine."

Sorry to stop in the middle of a sentence, but you can get the idea about why I didn't want to read too much of this. But it was fine seeing the excerpts now, especially the one featuring Emily Whitehead, the young leukemia patient saved by a pioneering therapy and still in remission three years later.

With all of this cancer stuff swirling in my head, I should have taken a good book or my New Yorker  to bed. Instead, I wrote about the documentary for my Surviving Cancer blog (to be posted tomorrow) and then I made the mistake of picking this time to ask Joe to do the long overdue job of turning of my mattress.

Pardon the change of subject, but it all relates to a bad night's sleep. Did you know that you should rotate your mattress every three months? This topic came up with Diane and David. I have slept on the same side for so long that I have made a little burrow for myself.

After Joe flipped it for me last night, I could not get comfortable. The bed felt hard as a rock. I missed my comfy spot. Plus he had needed to move the bed and night table. I didn't move them back, and due to this laziness I feel like my chi was disturbed.

Meanwhile, I considered placing my head at the foot of the bed to find my spot (like a dog does!) but that would have defeated the purpose of saving my mattress.

So tonight, a little feng shui in the room, and no cancer before bed.

Actually it's Better Call Saul night. Not exactly a prescription for a good night's sleep, but an excellent distraction.

Needles: the good kind

I had almost forgotten that I had signed up for free acupuncture through the Cancer Connection in Northampton, so I was surprised when the phone rang and it was acupuncturist Laurel Turk saying I had come to the top of the list.

Since the only time that she does this in Northampton is the same day I volunteer at the Literacy Project, I went to her office in Sunderland earlier this week. There was therapeutic value just in driving along beautiful Route 47 just as the leaves were beginning to turn.

 I previously had acupuncture done at Dana-Farber's Zakim Center for Integrative Therapies  and also in Amherst by a woman who is also an herbalist. The session at the Zakim Center was definitely calming, causing me to immediately fall asleep. Same thing for the sessions in Amherst. These were  complemented with Chinese herbal medicine to balance and strengthen my system after my first bone marrow transplant.

I took home a bag full of raw herbs that I boiled in my spaghetti pot and drank like a tea. It tasted and smelled horrible. The whole house stunk. My kids said it looked like the acupuncturist had just gone out behind her house and collected pieces of bark, and they would kill me if I did not stop. I am not doubting Chinese medicine, but it was not my cup of tea at that time.

At the session last week, I said I primarily wanted to address the neuropathy in my feet. I would love to get off that drug Neurontin, with its side effects of dizziness and drowsiness. There are many other imbalances in my body to address, including the graft vs. host in my liver and the tendency of squamous cell cancers to pop up on my skin.

My feet were the only place the needles hurt. The rest went in easily, including a couple in my head to calm my runaway mind. She also used a moxa stick, in which dried leaves of the Chinese herb mugwart are lit and applied to the needles, intensifying their benefits.

With each needle, I felt more and more like I was in a warm bath.

It was so much better than the needles that usually poke me.

I am happy to say I get five more sessions. Thank goodness for places like the Cancer Connection that offer services not just to those in crisis but also to those dealing with the long-term effects of cancer treatment.

Reflexology 101

I did something different today, going for reflexology at the Cancer Connection in Northampton.

I have been aware of the programs, services and support of this wonderful place, but more as a reporter than a participant. Obviously I knew during the past 10 years that I definitely was qualified to take advantage of the services that are free to cancer patients, survivors and their caregivers, but I continued to see myself more as an observer.

That changed when I told a friend that I had been curious about reflexology and was going to pay for a session, and the friend suggested I check out the free programs that are available. Here is a definition of reflexology:

Reflexology is a gentle thumb-pressure technique that stimulates nerve endings in the feet and hands, corresponding to various parts of the body inducing deep relaxation. This soothing massage of the lower legs, feet and hands, combined with Reiki, help strengthen the immune system, activate circulation and restore a state of balance and calm.

I'm glad I went. It was so relaxing that I feel asleep, though the benefits might have been undercut when I woke myself up with a coffee and a chocolate chip cookie at the Woodstar Cafe so that I wouldn't be sleepy on my errands for the rest of the day. Anyway, sitting outside in the sunshine was as relaxing as the therapy had been.

The Cancer Connection itself is a soothing place, with an inviting living room where I filled out forms. I will definitely return to do reflexology again or try such other complementary therapies as massage, acupuncture and Reiki.