An Amazing Time in Atlanta

Earlier this week, I headed to Atlanta for the first time in my life. The reason? I was asked to be the keynote speaker at an event at Holy Innocents’ Episcopal School. Specifically, I would be speaking at the School’s Program for Global Citizenship’s Annual Lecture. My buddy from Duke, Quinton, is the Director of the Program and thought it’d be good to have me talk to the kids and share my story and the mission of The Wunder Project. Pretty awesome, right? First, a little about the Program for Global Citizenship. The Program provides an incredible opportunity for high schoolers at Holy Innocents’ to travel within the U.S. and abroad and think of ways that they can make a leadership impact on the communities they encountered. Once they come up with their start-up or non-profit plan, the school gives them small grants to help make their dreams a reality. It was incredible for me to chat with the students (I did that during their lunch, before my talk) and see how creative, driven, and community-oriented they were. Kids these days. They totally blew me away, and they had the most insightful questions about The Wunder Project, my adventure with cancer, and colon cancer in general. Big shout out to Holy Innocents’ for being an awesome school with phenomenal students. It was 7pm almost before I knew it, and time for me to address the crowd, which consisted of students in the program, their parents, some of my fellow Blue Devils in the area who came out to support me (shout out to Adj and Sara and Andy!), and other folks associated with Holy Innocents’. I spoke about my path to leadership, my fist-fight with cancer, and The Wunder Project. We showed The Wunder Project film and, during Q&A, even showed our Harlem Shake video. I had a great time addressing the crowd and an even better time answering everyone’s questions afterwards. A huge thanks to Quinton and Holy Innocents’ for having me. After the talk, I spoke with parents and students and was so honored by their kind words and support. The entire experience brought home the fact that I really do need to get in front of people and discuss The Wunder Project to truly make the impact I’d like to make. So, in the next couple of months, we’ll be hitting the road and meeting with major corporations to talk about partnerships. I know that we can get the major, big-money support we need to continue to infuse our movement with new energy and new dollars. There is no quit in me until we reach our goal, and it’s exciting to see things coming together so well. So I flew back from Atlanta early on Thursday morning and by Thursday night, I was off to Palm Springs for the Coachella Music Festival (where I am today). Expect an update soon because this experience is, as it was last year, truly special. My life is so busy, but I am loving it...and living it with all of my heart.

Chemo Round 48

Before I go on, I realize that I’ve been a slacker with updating the blog, and I apologize for that. For those of you who have followed the blog for a long time, you know that my delay in posting isn’t because of bad news or anything awry but because of good stuff and general busyness. That applies now as it always has. You know your girl Wundy always has a lot cookin'! I got some pretty solid news about my blood work before chemo round 48. Things are looking good, my disease is stable, and we are on our way to unlocking the mysteries to my particular strain of “the cancer” as I like to call it. I am beyond lucky to have such innovative minds working on my case, chief among them being the great Dr. Lenz. I couldn’t be in better hands, and knowing that gives me such confidence and peace that I never worry about my disease. Never. I’m not saying I don’t pay attention to my body and take care of it as best I can, but I’m not nervous or anxious about the disease in my body. We’ve got its number and it’s a matter of time before it’s totally stomped out. And I will be doing the stomping. Chemo Round 48 went very smoothly. The time I spent infusing was easy and fun. Over the last two and a half years, I’ve developed some great relationships with the nurses and volunteers at Norris, so coming in for chemo is like spending time with friends. It’s a pretty wonderful feeling, rolling in for treatment and seeing over half a dozen people with whom you share a real bond of friendship. That’s exactly what I experience every other Monday, so I’m a very, very lucky girl. After chemo, we stopped at my new favorite spot – a place that makes vegan NY-style pizza. Are you kidding me? Delicious. I knew that my appetite would be spotty for the next few days, so I got myself a large pizza with pineapple topping (my favorite) and knew that I’d sustain myself with that deliciousness. Along with that, I noshed on coconut popsicles, fruit, herbal iced tea, and some more coconut popsicles. I kept myself well-hydrated and got enough sleep. Consequently, side effects were super minimal – just a little headache on Tuesday and Wednesday. By Thursday, I was up and about and functioning well – taking care of Wunder Project business, running errands, singing and dancing like a crazy woman in the car (seriously, what do the other motorists think about me?), and pumped that I had gotten through another round of chemo. One aspect about this cancer-killing adventure I’m on is that it’s a long road. It’s been a long road so far and I am fully prepared for it to continue to be that way. I don’t get anxious about treatment and I don’t ever think “ugh, when will I be done?” I’ll be done when I’ve fully vanquished this beast, and that’s going to take a lot of time and effort. And I’m totally cool with that. Before my diagnosis, I was likely one of the most impatient people you’d ever meet – when I wanted something, I wanted it immediately and I got pretty irritated if I didn’t achieve whatever I wanted to achieve right away. Cancer has taught me to take one bite at a time, to pace myself, to understand that victory will come but it won’t come immediately or even pretty soon. I’ve learned a brand of patience that had been utterly foreign to me before. Now, don’t get me wrong – I’m still goal-oriented, quick to make decisions (like, lightning quick), and decisive in my actions. But as far as my health is concerned, I know that I am a work in progress, and that it will take a while to fully recover from a disease that was so extensive and hell-bent on killing me two and a half years ago. Slow and steady wins the race, and, make no mistake: I am winning the race.

The Tattoo That Binds

When my dear friend, Annette, passed away in late December of last year, I was crushed. She was an incredible human being and the toughest cancer warrior I knew. Our friendship was truly special – we were more than just two people going through a similar situation together with similar attitudes. We were real friends. And within our friendship grew a sanctuary for each other. I felt safe when I was talking to or spending time with Annette, and I think I did the same for her. We were two soldiers in the trenches with each other, surrounded by loving family and friends but especially bonded by our battles with cancer. In my mind, there is no one who understood the whole cancer experience more than she did. There is no one who connected with me more on the “we’re fighting cancer and doing our best to survive” level than she did. Losing her was a great, great loss for me. It was as if I was alone, in the wild, foraging for myself in a world that was unknown to me. Never mind that I was over two years into treatment, extremely close with my medical team, and bonded as ever with my family and friends and colleagues. The truth is, when I found out that Annette had passed away, I felt as lonely as I ever have. It was one of the darkest moments in my life. Grieving for Annette has been a long process. There was no punctuated breakdown or day where I couldn’t get out of bed. Instead, it was as if there was a little sad cloud over me at all times, no matter how great my day was. I couldn’t shake the persistent sadness over my friend, and I didn’t want to shake it, either. Holding on to that feeling of loss was still holding on to my friend, so I didn’t mind that even the most fun days were curbed by a tinge of sadness. That was ok for me, and I lived like that for months. Maybe I’m still living like that. Ever since her death, I wrote Annette’s initials on the inside of my left wrist. It was instinctual, really. I hadn’t planned on doing it or keeping it up, but every day when I woke up, I scrawled “a.c.” on my wrist and went about my day. When something went well, I’d smile at it. When I grinding through a chemo week, I’d look at it and feel stronger. When I was playing basketball and made a shot, I’d kiss it. This was a physical representation of my friend, and it gave me some peace. And it made me feel close to Annette. Yesterday, I made it permanent. I went to my favorite vegan tattoo artist, James Spooner (wonderful guy), and inked her initials on my wrist forever. I chose to do it in lower case, since that was how Annette wrote all of her personal emails. I also chose the font that she’d always use, Courier New. I had some of my crew with me for the tattoo, including my parents and my buddies Stoney and Jordan. My mom asked James if the wrist was a particularly sensitive spot and if the tattoo was going to hurt. James responded: “Yeah, it’s probably going to suck.” I just smiled. First off, there’s no way it could be tougher than getting “Wunder” tattooed on my ribs, and I had already been there and done that. Secondly, I welcomed the moment when I was binding my body with the memory of Annette. I didn’t care how badly it hurt. I didn’t care if it bled. This tattoo was for my girl, and I embraced whatever came with getting it. The moment the needle hit my arm, I felt the rush of pain, but it wasn’t too bad. My crew was impressed that, throughout the whole tattoo process (which only took a few minutes), I never flinched or grimaced. Instead of letting the pain affect me, I thought of Annette. I thought of the good times we shared, our phone conversations, our bonding time at Norris, and when my Foundation gave her an award last June. I thought of the stories she told me about traveling with her family and thought about how much she loved her family and friends. I thought of how hard she fought the disease, and all she went through to survive. I thought of that last time we spent together at Norris, and how we held hands tightly and spoke about hope and peace. I thought about the exquisite beauty that was Annette, and that IS Annette. And I felt happy. Very happy. Then, the tattoo was done. I think it’s beautiful. Actually, I think that tattoo is perfect. The initials “a.c.” are a part of my physical body forever, and just the way Annette wrote them. I was honored to be her friend, and now I’m honored to have her initials on my wrist as a physical reminder to keep fighting, to take care of myself, and to embrace life with open arms and a heart filled with love – just how Annette did.

Chemo Round 47, That Lymph Node, and New York City

Actually, the title of this blog post is in reverse order. I’ll start with New York. I flew back home to L.A. the day after my appearance on the Today Show, and I had a whole two days at home before I packed my stuff up again and headed back to The Big Apple. Since last week was an off-chemo week, making the trip was a breeze and I had a blast. I did a media event (and spoke alongside Deepak Chopra which was an incredible experience), ate some delicious vegan food, and even scored a new pair of kicks while I was in the city (for you sneakerheads out there, I strongly recommend Flight Club in NYC). The weather started out a bit unfriendly – I grimaced through a sleet storm the first night I was there – but ended beautifully. As usual, New York City was magical and lovely. I hightailed it back home by Wednesday night because I had a CT scan on Thursday morning. This would be an all-important scan because it would reveal whether the radiation I did in January on that rogue lymph node in my chest actually worked. A pretty big deal, but I remained calm. I understand how other cancer warriors get “scanxiety,” that super anxious feeling when you’re about to get a scan or waiting on results. But here’s the thing about “scanxiety”: it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make the scan results better or worse. All it really achieves is freaking people out. So I refuse to countenance scanxiety. The moment my mind wanders to “wow – I wonder what the scan says,” I remind myself that I’m in control. If I went by what scans said, I’d be six feet under by now. So forget the scans. I listen to what Dr. Lenz tells me, I do everything I can to make myself as formidable a foe against cancer as possible, and I keep on rolling with my life and The Wunder Project. I had a particularly powerful moment during the scan itself, as I was in the tube. I was chillin’ in there, wearing my Duke hat (of course) and waiting to take that mandated deep breath that I’d need to hold. A thought popped into my head, and it was a really reassuring one. The thought was simple and powerful. “This scan does not determine your future. YOU DO.” I don’t know where the thought came from, but I have to tip my hat to my Creator for even putting such a sentiment in my head. It felt great to listen to that thought and to believe it. And I do believe it. The results were ready on Friday, but Dr. Lenz was in NYC (we just missed each other!) so we didn’t discuss it until Saturday, when I headed to USC Norris for the annual colon cancer patient reception (which went really well -- I spoke as did most of our Wunder Project team) followed by a chill session with Heinz in his office. The results? Are you ready? The lymph node shrunk. We blasted that fool. Radiation worked. And the disease in my belly remains stable. So all in all, a pretty great scan. It won’t change my course of treatment, so I’m still hanging with my bag o’ chemo every other week, but still. This was a success. That lymph node could have eroded a major vein in my chest and, if that would have happened, I could have bled to death. We needed this radiation to work to take me out of danger. And it did. The side effects of a scratchy throat and losing about 5 pounds (hey, not a bad side effect) were all worth it. And now I can help people who have questions about radiation since I went through ten rounds of it. A win/win for everyone! Finally, Round 47 of chemo. It went great. No cameras followed us around this time, no meetings during infusion, so I got to really relax this time around. I spent the next two days in bed, watching TV and movies and eating and drinking. And now, Thursday morning, I’m back. Feeling very good and, as always, feeling very grateful. And if this wasn’t enough news for you, I’ve got one more thing to share. That news crew that followed me around a couple of weeks ago was from CNN. CNN as in CNN! I’ve been excited for weeks over this awesomeness. The segment on me and The Wunder Project will air THIS WEEKEND on Sanjay Gupta’s show, “The Human Factor.” It'll come on at 4:30pm EST on Saturday and at 7:30pm EST on Sunday. CNN was also awesome enough to give us some web coverage, which will start in early April (I’ll let you know when). Check out the show this weekend and let me know what you think! The Wunder Project is definitely making moves. Finally, I’m getting another tattoo today. But I’ll save that for another post.

Chemo Round 46 and The Today Show

You know, my treatment routine is getting more unconventional by the day. Last round, I did the Harlem Shake before infusing for Round 45. This time, a camera crew was with me (don't worry, when I can tell you where the camera crew is from and when our television segment is going to air, I’ll tell you). The Wunder Project has been getting a lot of attention from the press, which is exactly what we wanted, especially during this early period of the Project. Getting as many people to know who we are will only expand our circle of supporters, so I couldn’t be happier with the way things are going. Having said that, though, I knew that this round of chemo would be a doozy and probably something that not many cancer warriors would welcome with open arms. But when you’re WunderGlo, normal bounds of reasonableness – even when it applies to chemo -- just don’t really apply anymore. So here’s my recap of Chemo Round 46: I got to chemo a little early on Monday to fill a prescription and have a little pre-filming time to myself, and got there just in time to do both. Soon enough, the TV crew and my PR team were with me, and the cameras were rolling. Because I’ve done so much filming with Jordan, the creator of The Wunder Project film and The WunderGlo Foundation video, I was cool as a cucumber. Honestly, having a camera capture my every move just doesn’t bother me at all. This TV crew filmed me and my friends playing basketball last Friday, and literally shooting a free throw with a camera about a foot away from my face didn’t even phase me. So I guess you can call me a little bit of a pro at this point. ☺ Chemo itself went great – had a good meeting with Dr. Lenz, infusion time flew by, and I was attached to my bag o’ chemo and on my way before I knew it. I got home and got in bed, trying to preserve as much energy as possible. Because tomorrow, I’d be on my way to New York City. I flew to New York on Tuesday while infusing, forcing myself to eat and drink as much as possible (the after effects of radiation only began about a week after treatment ended and continues to persist – my little throat hurts!), and trying to sleep as much as possible. My mom traveled with me and took impeccable care of me, but I knew that no matter how great the care was, I was challenging my body in a serious way. We landed, I slept, and the next morning, I felt the same way I always feel on a chemo Wednesday: not awesome. So how does a chemo Wednesday feel? It’s hard to describe to people who don’t have cancer, but just think of it like a hangover. You feel a little queasy, not really interested in eating, and headachy. The gross headache feeling is the worst of all three, so I usually try to sleep it off on Wednesday. I couldn’t, though, because I had a conference call with a major drug maker (I’m going back to New York next week for their event), and then I had to take a car to my hotel (we stayed in New Jersey at my mother-in-law’s house for the first night). And in the morning, I’d have to get up early and be at my very best, because your buddy WunderGlo was going to be on the Today Show with Kathie Lee and Hoda. Luckily, as the hours passed on Wednesday night, the gross headachy fog began to lift a bit. I started making up songs in the hotel room (a surefire sign that I’m getting my crazy/normal ways back), and after my mom hoofed it to bring me back some delicious (vegan) Italian food, I was feeling the old me creeping back in. But still, was this enough to knock it out of the park the next morning? I told myself that it would be and reminded myself about who I was dealing with. Come on. I can do this. Please. Ah yes, that old WunderGlo confidence. Much needed. The next morning, I got up bright and early, hopped in the shower, and was chugging almost at full strength. By the time I got to the Today Show, I was feeling the flow. I jumped into hair and makeup and, minutes later, was camera ready. And almost an instant after that, I was ushered into the area where the filming would take place. Lots of cameras and lights, and Kathie Lee and Hoda doing their thing with another segment. I’d be going on with a doctor at NYU (Dr. Pochapin – very cool dude) and another cancer warrior (Teri Griege – ridiculously awesome lady), and the three of us chit chatted quietly before we were given our spots on the couch and the countdown began. This was it. My first live television segment, and on national television, and on the most popular morning show in America. I wasn’t nervous. You know, when people cut you open and remove organs and other folks pump you full of chemotherapy drugs, very few things actually make you nervous. So yeah, I wasn’t nervous. And it went really well. Kathie Lee and Hoda are total studs – warm and professional and fun all at the same time – and Dr. Pochapin and Teri did an awesome job. And, by all accounts, I did an awesome job, too. It was invigorating. And you can check it out here. After that, I took off to a major magazine for a little chit chat about The Wunder Project. No rest for the weary, team! And after that, I had a full day in New York City, hanging out with my mom and my best friend from law school (Rhett) and my sister-in-law (Marie) and her boyfriend (A.J.). We wrapped up the day at around midnight, and I crashed in Marie’s bed, giving thanks for her super comfy sheets and the deliciousness of some well-deserved rest. Yesterday, I took it very easy, flew home, and crashed again. And today, I’m up to my old tricks. I’m feeling great (just finished up at the gym), and extremely excited about where The Wunder Project is headed. And this is only the beginning. Oh yeah, and I go back to New York City on Monday for some more media stuff. Life is moving fast, but I’m loving every minute of it. I’m pretty sure cancer wished it had never messed with me. And now it’s really quakin’ in its boots. That’s right, cancer. Bad choice, fool. I’m coming after you and I’m not going to stop coming after you until you are history…for all of us.