The One in Which I Tell You that I'm not Stable

Not so much "Yippee Skippee" this time. 

Okay, I know many of you know that I had my MRI on Monday, I still haven't posted any results. I usually post a cheery update saying "I'm stable! Yippee Skippee!", so you may have already gotten the gist that...the scan was not stable. Well, let me be more specific. Tuesday morning, we heard from my oncologist - My MRI scan this week showed a change from the last one that I had in July. Just a reminder, in this case: NO change is good. Change is not good. So, I spent a great deal of time trying not to freak out. I meditated and walked with Steven and tried not to cry TOO much...because we really didn't know very much yet. (P.S. Still don't) The oncologist was just reading the report that he got from Good Sam's radiology department. He hadn't seen the scan itself yet. All he really said was there was "a change".

In the late afternoon, we heard from our radiologist (Dr. Rad) - same thing. Hadn't seen the scan itself, but from the report, he was more reassuring and told us a little more information based on that report. Through speaker phone, Steven and I both peppered him with questions, and he used words like, "minor", "subtle", and "very mild" flare/inflammation at the tumor site. What made me feel the most reassured is he said: "By no means, is this definitely a recurrence of the tumor". No, I'm not paraphrasing. That's exactly what he said. I know because I wrote it down. (More about that later below)

I can't tell you how reassuring all those words were. I felt like I could breathe again.

We still have a lot of meetings and research to do, but for now, I "stay the course". I will continue the Temodar cycles and have an MRI every other month. We have appointments with both the Los Gatos oncologist and the neuro-oncologist at UCSF next week. We are considering seeking yet another doctor for opinions. It can't hurt, right?

What we know now, is this: The radiologist said the slight inflammation may be "radiation necrosis", which sounds really spooky and Halloweeny, so I guess we can look at it as timely and festive? <cue spooky noises and music>

I know radiation necrosis isn't something to joke about, but it's better than a recurrence. And P.S. Piss off if you don't find the same things funny that I do. If you haven't figured it out yet, I have a weird(-ish) sense of humor.

Just kidding!

What seemed a little eerie - is that, (I kid you not), I woke up Tuesday and was randomly thinking of how lucky I am - considering the circumstances. I am relatively unimpaired RIGHT NOW from my illness. And you all know how I feel about the RIGHT NOW.

It is what matters. RIGHT NOW.

I can walk unimpaired and without support.In fact, I just started doing this 30-day Yoga Challenge with Adrienne on Youtube, and I am kicking ass - or is she kicking my ass? Either way, I'm doing downward dogs and cobras, and planks to beat the band. 

I'm not physically disabled right now.

 I can talk relatively unimpaired, although, I have some issues with that (especially when I'm tired or just waking up). But most of the time... the important thing is that I can still communicate my thoughts and feelings. And, not to brag or anything, but my mind is still pretty sharp.

Yes, there are some differences. My short term memory is pretty shitty. But I've learned to adapt. I carry notebooks. (Surprisingly, despite my love of technology, I like the ole' paper and pen to jot down things that I need to remember. I call it my "paper brain". So, if you tell me something you want me to remember, and I don't write it down, I have no intention of remembering it. Whoops! I gave away a little secret! (Shhhh! maybe some of you didn't catch on....) <slinking away>

Nothing to see here! Move along!

Okay, as I think about it, all these thoughts were really not "random". I was trying to keep my perspective while I waited for the news about my MRI. And guess what! That is all true today. After hearing the news. The fact that the scan was not "stable" didn't change that.

Yes. It threw us for a loop, and Steven and I needed some time to process it. But if we stay in the present and not start projecting into the future, we are more than okay. We are lucky.

But....but....I could leave at that, and wrap this up in a big bow, but I feel like I need to share with you....

 In a cosmic joke of some kind (P.S. Cosmos, I don't think it's funny AT ALL, and if you could knock it off, that would be GREAT!), we are having some other challenges as a family that my sister-in-love and husband are dealing with right now. The cliche says, "When it rains, it pours..." I know we have a serious drought here in California, but if you could manage to have some drops land on another family, we would be so grateful. Thanks! (I think Steven and his sister have already proven that they're studs. No need to make people jealous.)

The Studs! Look! They even have weapons! Look out!

I had to scrounge around in my Ninja Warrior toolkit and find my Zen Manual. It's a little dog-eared, and I'm flipping through it like mad. Yes, I'm soaking up the message: Worrying never changes the outcome. 

But this time, I'm also focusing on another message: Together, we have so much more strength.
My love goes out to all my Warriors and Angels, and I send my love and positivity to my family. We are so strong. We will get through this!

Okay, so technically Pam & Steven aren't twins, but they are AWESOME!

Love, June Xoxoxo #MFBCFNW

The One in Which I Totally Embarass Schmoopy/Steven. Squeeee!

I was revisiting some of my blog posts, which I do occasionally to make sure I'm not totally repeating something I said before. FYI, I know I repeat things sometimes. Well, I don't know necessarily what it IS that I'm repeating, but I know I've said some things more than once here. I blame it on the treatment - radiation is notorious for affecting our short-term memory. But then I talk to other people who are my age or older, and they say, "I do that all the time, too". So, whether it's brain cancer or age - you pick - I wanted you to be aware that I know that I repeat myself.

Oh, Oh! Warning! Ear worm coming on! "I repeat myself when under stress...I repeat myself when under stress..." (Click at your own risk of spreading the earworm.)

 (Kiddies, you're just going to have to trust me on this one. You had to be in your formative years in the 80's to really appreciate this. But I didn't receive these socks for nothin')

(Now, that's one I think only my generation is going to remember. See! There are things we remember! Doesn't that feel good?) My job here is done. Oops! Not quite.

I had three high school friends who came to visit me within the last week. Two flew 3,000 miles all the way from the D.C. area to spend a day and a half with me. One lives in Los Angeles - and for all of you that don't live in California, look at map, people. It's BIG. It's not like she lives down the block.

But I digress.(It wouldn't be an authentic June blog post if I didn't bird-walk a little bit, right?)

I was extremely thrilled to see all three of them (of course), and honored that they took the time away from their busy lives to come out here to see me. Unfortunately, I had one glitch in my visit with Pam & Jill. When we planned the visit, my chemo cycles were not going to coincide with the visit, but with my Tooth Saga, I was on the tail-end of cycle #9 when they arrived. Saturday morning laid me out flat, and I had to take another five hours of sleep before I rallied for a wonderful evening. On the plus side, they got to explore downtown Livermore, and I was the recipient of some awesome goodies as a result (see socks above):and this sweet shirt:

If you come visit me, expect your car to be dirty when you leave. It's all DIRT, Baby!

It was all good in the end.

 Snuggled under blankets, listening to live music at Double Barrel in downtown Livermore. 

Visiting with Allison was a lovely time. She drove out from San Francisco at rush hour. I warned her about that, but then I remembered that she lives in L.A. (Hello! McFly! You call this "traffic"??) Fortunately, she arrived just in time to enjoy the sunset in my backyard, and we had a chance to discuss Life, Love, and the Pursuit of Happiness around the firepit. No pictures. I'm finding that I "forget" about my phone more and more - except for the app that reminds me when to take my meds. And pictures of sunsets. And sunrises. But spending time with people trump phones 100% of the time.

Saying good-bye with all these friends was slightly awkward (for me). Doesn't the saying go, "This isn't saying good-bye. It's just saying 'See ya' later!'"? But we all knew/know that in my case, that may have been good-bye. In fact, they might not have gone through that much trouble if there wasn't at least a tiny part of them that was saying, "This may be the last time I get to see June alive." We didn't discuss it, but I talked to Steven about it, though. (Hint: I talk to him about pretty much everything. So, if you tell me, "Don't tell anyone about this,..." that really means, "Don't tell anyone but Steven about this....")

Don't worry, my Warrior friends. I'm not dwelling on that last good-bye. If you follow me on social media (Instagram, Facebook, etc.),  you know that I'm spending a lot of time enjoying my new surroundings in Livermore. Sunsets, sunrises, walks with Schmoopy and the doggies...and trying to transform this house into our home.

It just so happens that my next MRI is scheduled for next Monday, 10/26, and that always brings on the scanxiety syndrome. Through yoga, meditation, and my Schmoopy, I keep re-centering myself to the present and the gifts I have every day: visits with family and friends, the beauty that surrounds me, and my best friend/love of my life...the best thing that ever happened to me. Namely: Steven.

I was at a wine club release a couple weeks ago, and one of the club members leaned into me while Steven was talking and said, "You know how lucky you are to have him, right? He's a good one."  (I resisted the urge to say DUH! And if you are reading this right now, #sorrynotsorry #braincancercard #freepass) Just in case you didn't know it by now, yes, I do know how lucky I am. He gets embarrassed when I talk about this, but that's just one of the things that makes him so special.

I talked to my "mother-in-love", Judy, the other day. (She lives in Arizona.) She feels helpless that there's nothing she can do to help me, living so far away. I get that, but there's really nothing that anyone can do. I told her, you already did probably the most important thing to help me through this.. You raised the man I married, my Schmoopy. I don't know what I would do without him. The greatest gift of all.

He shaved his head for me, but winery guests were afraid he was sick - and my hair grew back, so he has hair, too, now!
___________________________________________________________________

This totally didn't start out as a blog post singing Steven's praises, but I started writing, and this is what came out. It was going to be an essay on how to achieve World Peace and stop Global Warming. But I guess that one will have to wait. Priorities, people. Priorities! 

P.S. I know I've told you how bitchin' he is before. That's not a brain cancer or age/memory thing. I just think he deserves it.

P.P.S. Thank you so much to Jill, Pam, and Allison for the visits!!! Love, June Xoxoxo #mfbcfnw

P.P.P.S. And not to bum you out, but just a reminder: It could be "Good-bye!" for any of us - and not "See you later!" Something to think about when you are with your precious loved ones.

The One in Which I Hope Winter is Coming

No, I'm not talking about the very popular series Game of Thrones. I watched a couple of seasons, but my very wise son and I had a conversation a while back about how he stopped watching those kinds of shows because he didn't want those violent images in his head. I thought about it, and I agreed. I don't need those kinds of gruesome thoughts in my head. So, when I say, "I hope winter is coming." I'm not referring to THAT winter..

I'm talking about the seasons-seasons. You know, like spring, summer, fall, and winter. (and NO, they're not capitalized in this situation. I googled that shit, you fellow grammar geeks!)

Now, I am straight up going to warn you that I'm not going to write anything in this post that's terribly orginal. #sorrynotsorry Writers have been using seasons as an analogy for life ...well, probably forever. If we could interpret all the petrolglyphs on the rocks, we would most likely read messages about seasons being an analogy for life.

But I have something to say about it; I have my own voice, ...and most importantly, you can't stop me. So, neener, neener, neener! 

I'm going to put my mom on blast for a second, but I'm also going to turn the lens around and look at myself,, so I hope she doesn't take offense.

But just in case: I love you, Mom! <smooches!>

I have two siblings, and despite our very different personalities and lifestyles, we love being together. And when we get together, we tend to be loud and raucous, and we think we're hilarious. At least we laugh A LOT. My mom often seems to get frustrated because she can't get a word in edgewise as we riff off of each other. After all, we are from the same generation - have the same cultural references - and have had a lot of the same expeiences since birth. I've often said that my mother wants to have all the family together, but once she gets her wish, she seems like..."be careful what you wish for..." Most of the time, I think she is better one-on-one with each of us because she can really TALK instead of listening to us. P.S. I don't think we're as hilarious as we may think we are. <gasp!> No! That can't be, can it?

My siblings: brother John, sister, Kathleen/Kathy/Kate, and me (I'm easy to pick out. I'm the one with blue hair and brain cancer) - Summer 2015

I have experienced the same thing with our four children. They are seven years apart, oldest to youngest, but when you get into your 20's, that gap doesn't seem like that big. And our kids are very close. They've got each other's back and communicate regularly. Just like my siblings and I, they are really different in personalities and lifestyle, but they have such love for each other!

Aidan, Katherine, April, and Sara - Daou Winery, Summer 2015

We recently went wine tasting at Daou Winery in Paso Robles. We were looking for a place to meet halfway between Santa Barbara, where Katherine is living right now, and the Bay Area, where the rest of us are . Sara recently turned 21, so we can all go wine tasting <eh hem!> LEGALLY, I should add. But once we got around this big table, (just as usually happens when we get together as a family) the kids are very loud and raucous...and yes, they really are hilarious.  I was trying to participate in the conversation, but ...wouldn't you know it! I couldn't get a word in edgewise! And I was growing more frustrated. I kept opening my mouth to speak, but one of the children or another was hopping in to say something. This has happened before in similar situations. In fact, it happened one time when I was with my mother, and she looked across the table at me as if to say, "See. See what I feel like." We spoke about it later, and we agreed that we felt ...."marginalized" at those times.

But then I had this moment of clarity at Daou. It wasn't my turn. It was their turn. I don't mean this in a deragatory way at all. I sat back and watched and listened and enjoyed every minute of it. (Except when I snuck away with my granddaughter, Autumn, and went for a walk with her in a sling and talked to her about all the pretty flowers on the property. She had a lot of very insightful things to say.)

Yep! Grandma June using a sling like a boss!

Watching my children - so different and yet so close and funny and enjoying the whole experience of being together - I was bursting with pride and feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. And I know Steven was, too. We talked about it on our way home.

Or more accurately: WE made "dis". Okay, if we're going to be truly accurate, we made four of dese...I mean, "these"

I've been thinking a lot about that experience, and realized there's a time for everyone. I wasn't being "marginalized" that day. There are no margins unless you limit the space you can occupy. I was in a different space - not in the margins - just like Autumn.

Autumn (despite her name! haha!) is in the beginning of her life - the spring. When you first see the signs of life. She is blooming and growing so quickly. Every day, we see something new and different. It's almost hard to keep up.

Could she be any cuter??? (Pssst! The only acceptable answer is "NO, she's the cutest thing EVER!")

When she gets a bit older, she will be in Summer. Bright and full of promise,  children grow into adults - first, with little responsibility, but getting stronger through nurturing and their own determination. There are so many variables, who knows now how she'll "turn out"?

Our kids are in the summers of their lives. Doesn't everyone like summer? Summer is awesome! Full of possibilities, and yet, sometimes it can seem stressful because we are trying to cram so much into that time. School, relationships, maybe travel...marriage and babies (not necessarily in that order)...It's intense and chaotic but as much fun as it can be...

Steven and I are in the fall of our lives. Transitions through our lives are usually gradual and sometimes we turn around and say, "Huh. When did that happen?" There's no definitive line. I took this picture in the vineyard the other day while walking with Steven because I thought that it represented a lot of what I was thinking. We have the leaves turning colors while the fruit hangs ripening. Some blocks are ready to be picked and begin the new season while others need more time to mature.

Without getting too hokey (#too late #don'tcare #stfu), we are seeing the fruits of our labor break away and change into the things they're meant to be. Some of it is our doing, but some of it has nothing to do with us. So many variables...

I think of our parents as being in the winters of their lives. Winter is usually less flashy. Sometimes it can look barren or colorless. Sometimes it's associated with death. But think about it: winter can be really long. And if you look closely, you see the beauty. The sun sparkling on the snow, or the cleansing rain, or the trees revealing intricate, gnarly branches that are obscured during the other seasons by the leaves. The water amd those branches are sources of life. And they're beautiful.

Think about the season of life you're in. Yes, it's natural to reflect on seasons past, but don't begrudge those that are there now. Or be fearful or resentful of where you are now or where you're going. Appreciate its own unique beauty.

I'm appreciating this time of life, but as my title says: I hope winter is coming for me eventually  because it looks pretty damn sweet to me.

And remember: you can only be marginalized if you limit the space that you occupy.

The One in Which I Unpack the Love

Earlier this week, I had a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Steven had left for work already - as every day during harvest season. Sometimes, I feel emotional and down for no particular reason. I know. I know. I have a pretty good reason: I have brain cancer.

But I have brain cancer all the time. And most of the time, I go about my day and don't even think about it.
Okay, I call bullshit on myself. I do think about it, but I don't DWELL on it.

But this particular morning, it was overwhelming. I was sad, and depressed, and....lonely. Honestly, all I wanted to do is lay in bed, safe under the covers, Steven's arms wrapped around me. He can't say, "It will all be okay.", but he could say, "I'm here for you."

Only he couldn't. I was alone In our new house, and he was working hard for Harvest 2015,

So, I did the next best I could think of: I pulled his out-of-shape, holey sweater from on top of his dresser and put it on me. I took a big sniff of it first - to smell the Schmoopy scent. And then I just curled up in my bed, and cried. Big, juicy tears rolled down my face, and I used the arms of Steven's sweater to continually wipe them away. Also, to wipe my sniveling nose. (Sorry, Schmoopy! I promised that I washed it after! See!)

What do you think? Circa 1980's?

After a good, cleansing cry, I lay in there in bed, just thinking through my mood and what was going on. It wasn't the end of the world, but I had every right to have a meltdown. I didn't even have to use my #cancercard. Moving is stressful. But I was crying about my cancer - still feeling sad, depressed, and alone.

As I looked out in the distance and contemplated my situation, I remembered how scared and upset I was when I first got my diagnosis. And how many of you rallied around me, surrounding me love and prayers, and strength. And in a "made-for-t.v.movie moment", I decided to get up out of bed and find the box that we had in the garage that I labelled: "June - post dx inspiration - study".

Study was referring to the location that box would go, but now that I think about it, it works as a command, too. 

I wrangled with the boxes in our garage and found the right one and hauled off to the study - which is a fancy word for "Steven's and June's shared office where he'll drive me crazy watching Golden State Warriors post-season highlights (without headphones), and I'll end up in the family room using my computer". (It's just a convenient shorthand.)

I started unpacking the box and there were two posters on the top - one was from our team for Relay for Life (Go, Wine Girls!), and one was given to me by Jeanne Mullins. She dropped it off and said, "I was just practicing in my calligraphy class, and I thought of you. I lost it right then and there, and sobbed. Jeanne was diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer about a month after she gave that to me, and died a peaceful death surrounded by the love of her family. Again, this sounds like a Lifetime movie script, but this really happened just like I'm writing this.

I'm not giving up, Jeanne. But thank you for reminding me that I can scream and cry. 

Go figure, Steven came home right then, as I stood in our study/office and said, "What's wrong?" I suggested that w go for a walk in a few minutes, and I could talk to him about it. The answer to that question was more than a one-liner. We had a good walk around the vineyard with the doggies. I held his purple, calloused, and blistered hand from harvest work, and talked & cried. Probably, he didn't understand half of what I said, but that's okay. He was there for me.

The next day, I started to reconstruct the corner I had in my old house, with all the treasures and reminders from all of you. I finished today.

This is my new sacred corner - filled with love! The corkboard on the top has my goals for this year

Top Shelf: Yes, that is my radiation mask in a purple wig and Minnie Mouse ears.

Shelf Two: Many angels and ninjas, etc.....all keeping Dr. Awesomesauce company

Shelf three: The Stars of The Kick-Ass Ninja Adventures of June/The Outlier .<---click for the story

And so many other treasures of positivity!

Instead of putting up each card, letter, and email you sent me, I put in a container customized for me that's labelled #MFBCFNW. As I put each thing inside, I reread the sweet, loving, thoughtful things people took the time to send me. Many of you included phone numbers so I can call whenever I need anything. It struck me like a sledgehammer that am never alone.

Ninja Stars on the left, all your loving messages on the right. SQUIRREL!

[I also looked at last year's goals that I had and decided to add pictures of the things I had accomplished, despite the odds. I'll have to include that in a future post, I think!]

And then...and then...this morning I woke up to THIS on my timeline on Facebook:

In case you were wondering, that was a spectacular way to start my day!

When I start feeling sad, and depressed, and lonely again, instead of going into my bed and hiding under the covers, I'm going to go into my new sacred spot and STUDY in my study. Assuming, Steven's not watching Golden State Warriors highlights...