The One in Which I Explain Why the Little "Oops!" Mattered to ME

I completed my 11th Chemo cycle this month. But it didn't go without incident - and one could say I "lost my shit" a little bit about it. Some people - some people that know me really well - were perplexed about my reaction. I mean, I've gone through so much, and what's the big deal if my cycle is off a few days. So, I thought I'd explain why it was a Big Deal to me.

I have collected a bunch of tools to help me through stressful times in my life. Not just with cancer, but throughout my life. They usually work. One biggie is that I go through in my mind and visualize what is going to happen. I try to research as much as possible and ask experienced people what to expect, and I use that to help with that visualization. For me, that helps to alleviate the anxiety that I might be anticipating/experiencing.

Despite my love of technology, it's the paper and pen/pencil method for me. And the system works.

So, it's no surprise that the way I deal with these chemo cycles is the same way I deal with many unpleasant and/or necessary new stressful experiences. I visualize what will happen, and plan for it. Every month has been slightly different, and I can only control what I can control. I work through in my head what I think is going to happen and step through it in my mind. On a Chemo Day, I take my meds at bed time. I have to stop eating two hours before I take my meds. And I have to take an anti-nausea pill 1/2 hour before I take the chemo. I am very careful what I eat all day, too - just in case. Being kind to my stomach and system for the onslaught of poison that I will be subjecting it to in a few hours. And don't forget the towel at the side of the bed before going to sleep, to protect the carpet. Basically, I mentally and physically steel myself for the five days.

Fast forward to this past week. I was supposed to start my 11th cycle of chemo on Sunday. Steven had talked to the specialty pharmacy, stressing that I needed the meds by Tuesday. I take two pills at night during that five day cycle. 180 mg. and 140 mg. I had "extra" pills to get me through Sunday and Monday (why is not relevant to this story) But they swore that they would get the pills to us in time for Day 3.

Only they didn't. #epicfail

Many of you know that I was an avid runner for about 2 decades of my life - and I've met some really amazing people through that passion. I've run three full marathons, and I think three half marathons, in addition to many 10K's and a few 5K's. #MFBCFNW's like a challenge, I guess! Rawwwr!

Sorry, but need to stop here and teach some of the kiddies something:
A MARATHON is 26.2 miles. period. Not just any race can be called a "marathon". If you call a 10K or a 5K a "marathon",  you might see people's eye twitch while they try to be polite and keep their mouth shut. But they are MARATHONERS...and have fucking run 26.2 miles in one shot. And that's a big deal. Get it straight.
A HALF-MARATHON is then (take out your calculators, kiddies) 13.1 miles.
A 10K is 6.2 miles and a 5K is 3.1 miles.
End of lesson. [If I've taught this lesson before, don't forget I have a #freepass and #braincancer.]

My first marathon was the Inaugural San Diego Rock 'n Roll Marathon. I made sure I included "inaugural" because this is important. I knew other people who had run marathons and listened and learned and tried to prepare as well as I could for that race. Like what you do if you have to go to the bathroom during the race??? (I'll have that one remain a mystery for now. Ask someone who has run a marathon for the answer. It could be fun! haha!)

What we couldn't anticipate was that the race coordinators would fuck up a few things  - like they weren't prepared to pass out enough water for us the "middle of the packers"? So, we arrived at the first couple water stations and the volunteers didn't have any water in cups to pass out? (Lesson learned: I always ran long distances carrying water after that because I'm a planner. Also, the route went across a railway, and I had to STOP during my run to let a long cargo train pass through. That was something else I didn't anticipate. Good times. Good times. <--- to be said with extreme sarcasm
I ran the next two R'nR Marathons in San Diego, I guess I forgave them in the end.

The point is - no matter how hard you plan and anticipate what's going to happen, sometimes things happen that you aren't prepared for. And for me...that's very tough. Everyone together, please:
I'm a planner! 

When you run a marathon, they have a phenomenon called "The Wall". At about 20 miles, the body sometimes says, "Uh uh. I've had enough of this." My first marathon, I literally saw people sitting on the curb at around this point. I've often said that the last 6.2 miles of a marathon is mostly mental. Every fiber of your being is saying "What? Are you fucking crazy??? I'm DONE." But you say back to yourself, "You can do this. You've done this before. You can do 6.2 miles. Easy peasy!" You know it's not going to be easy, but...I'm not a curb sitter.  [This is different from a physical "bonk" where your body is just DONE for whatever reason. If you don't understand, Google that Shit. I've gotta move on...]

Finish Line of the Rock n Roll Marathon - Rawwrrrr!

So, on Tuesday, we kept waiting for this package to arrive. I was mentally and physically prepared. And the meds never arrived. I was starting to freak out. Steven called and they said, "Oops! Somebody forgot to push some button...or something..." They were very apologetic, but couldn't do anything about it. In fact, we could expect the meds on THURSDAY to resume the cycle. What. The. Fuck.

Obviously, the person on the other end of that phone didn't really understand that it mattered. But it mattered to me A LOT. I wasn't prepared to extend my cycle for two days. And I lost my shit. Crying and gnashing of the teeth. It didn't seem like a Big Deal for some people around me, but I was mentally a mess. (P.S. Thank you to everyone who offered support and understanding on Facebook when I vented about it.) It might have seemed like nothing, but it was...too much for me at the time. I already was mentally trying to keep it together, keep it together ...wondering/hoping that this is working help keep my cancer at bay. And then altering a cycle made me wonder, is this going to decrease its effectiveness? The mind can be a very powerful thing.Who knows? I kept trying to release those thoughts, but it's hard!

I meditate and do yoga to calm myself down - because that is something that I have control over. And it helps. I have notebooks and calendars, and I write here - which also helps.

One of my journal pages. I think it says it all.

I just thought you should know why the Ninja Warrior lost her shit last week. Because everyone does sometimes. Just don't forget that your mind is a powerful thing. Give it some credit to push you through the walls of life.

______________________________________________________________________

If you or someone you know is going through some tough health issues, I've found this meditation for healing video on youtube that you might like. If not, search and there are a ton. One of them might "click" for you.

Gratuitous picture of my granddaughter exploring her new pillow pet. Someday, I hope she will forgive me for cursing so much. Xoxoxo Grandma June doesn't cuss. Just #MFBCFNW <smooches!>

The One in Which I Don't Leave You Hanging

I realized that I left you with a couple of cliff hangers with my last post. Time to release you from the suspense!

Many of you read already about the first issue: my unstable MRI, but just for my blog readers who aren't on Facebook - there's good news! OR "not-so-bad news"? My local oncologist and radiologist, and UCSF neuro-oncologist and the UCSF Tumor Board have all reviewed my MRI scans, including the most recent one with the change in site #2. There was consensus that the change they were seeing was related to my radiation therapy and not progression of the disease. In fact, the site #1 (where the tumor was resected) looked a little smaller). I say "not-so-bad news" because brain changes as a result of radiation are nothing to sneeze at. But the fact that the cancer is responding to the Temodar (no growth) is definitely something to celebrate. I have two more cycles to go - I'm in the midst of one right now. Cycle #11. After Cycle #12, I "graduate". (I wonder if I get a diploma or something? I should get something, don't ya' think? Oh, yea. I'm still alive! That will do nicely as a door prize, thank you!)

The second cliffhanger is more global in scope. If you remember, Steven asked both our local oncologist and UCSF neuro-oncologist at our last appointments (separately) if they thought that we would ever find a cure for cancer. And I left you hanging about their answers. I know they collaborate extensively, and maybe the oncologist gave the N.O. a heads up, but they both answered with similar responses. Their opinions were...

"Not in my lifetime." I'm estimating that these doctors are in the late 30's, early 40's, so that pretty much leaves me S.O.L. if we believe them. BUT they had a caveat! They believe that maybe the scientific community will find a way to LIVE with cancer, in the same way people live with HIV - controlling it so you can have a good quality life and being told you have cancer won't feel like a death sentence. That sounds like a super scenario for me at this moment.

Kiddies, Here's a little history lesson:  I went to college in the early '80's when the AIDS epidemic was just becoming widely well-known. At that time, if someone was told that they tested positive for the HIV virus, it was considered an automatic death sentence. There's still not a cure, but people who are diagnosed with the HIV virus have a lot of hope that they can survive in this day and age - if they get diagnosed soon enough. Be smart, and if there's any doubt, get tested!

So, what's going to make a difference with a cancer diagnosis? How are we going to get there? I'm aware that many of my Warriors out there have made very generous donations to some of the organizations that are working hard to find answers to eradicate Cancer. Thank you so much for your generosity!
Here are some links if your looking to fund the cause:
American Cancer Society
American Brain Tumor Association
UCSF Neurology & Neurosurgery Medical Center

My Legacy
I've been reflecting a lot on how I personally can make a difference - and as many of us do when faced with our own mortality - what kind of legacy I am going to leave behind? Unfortunately, I didn't invent Facebook or Microsoft, so I don't have fortune to create a foundation. So, that one's out. I feel like my contribution is just a drop in a bucket. A very little drop in a very large bucket. Together, we can make more of SPLASH, of course. I don't want to discourage donations and volunteerism. But I want to feel like I made a difference, personally, too.

I remember a riddle one of my teachers in high school shared with us decades ago:
This father and son are driving in a car and they have a horrible accident. Tragically, the father dies instantly, but the son is critically injured and is transported to the hospital. He requires immediate surgery. When he is wheeled into the surgical room, the doctor rushes in, takes one look at the patient and says, "I can't operate on him. He's my son." Who is the surgeon? The students shouted out possible answers:
"His stepfather!"
"His grandfather!"
"His uncle!"

No one guessed the right answer:

"His mother."

How many of you got the answer right before reading it? This is 30+ years later. We need society to view women as just as likely as men to be in the fields of Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics, sometimes referred to as STEM.

source: http://divaneering.org/our-programs

It hit me like a lightning bolt the other day. I was a teacher...I AM a teacher. And one of the things that I was passionate about was instilling in my students' minds that they are not ...or should not have their aspirations confined by their gender. Boys can be ballet dancers; girls can be engineers, etc. Years ago, I was the team manager for an all-girls First Lego League Robotics Team that kicked butt in a regional tournament. Wooot! (FYI - If you have an elementary or middle school child, check this program out! And in high school, they have the FIRST program.) Boys & Girls interested in robotics? Welcome!So, yes, I believe we need to continue to fund research for Cancer, and I would be so grateful if they came up with a way for me to live with cancer for a long, long time. And that could be a man or woman or a bunch of men and women! Imagine that!

But I think that I would like (part of) my legacy to join in the movement to create a paradigm shift...at least for some more people in our culture to encourage girls/women to look at education and careers in STEM. (Just for the record, our NO at UCSF is a woman.) Maybe one of them will find a cure for cancer - or unravel the mystery enough that we can LIVE with high quality lives with the disease?

Regardless, it's time. 

Obligatory Picture of my Granddaughter,Autumn

Maybe my granddaughter will grow up and answer that riddle with confidence and no confusion? Maybe she will grow up believing she can be anything she wants to be. I hope so.

Please feel free to contact me if you think there is an organization or movement to which I could volunteer time and make a difference! And maybe think about ways that you can be a part of this paradigm shift as well.

The One That I Waited Until After Thanksgiving to Write

I had my latest MRI scan last Monday. Surprisingly, my radiologist was in his office on Wednesday rather than in his car, driving to some family Thanksgiving gathering. And he called. He was going over our latest scan report and wanted to let us know the initial results. He's always been so good at understanding that a couple in our position is on pins and needles until we hear something. What he did not know is that Steven and I had decided to NOT pursue the results until after the holiday, so we wouldn't be distracted or distressed if the news were not good. But he called, so there ya' go. In the end, I decided that it was better to hear, rather than stick my head in the sand.

 Ninjas don't hide from the truth. They face it straight on.

And son-of-a-bitch, the news was not good. They've seen another change between scans. (I think I hear a collective sigh and a couple curses from my potty mouth soulmates.) But hear me out, and I think you'll feel at least a little better in the end. Or not. It is what it is.

This scan is different because the enhancement or "growth" is not in the primary location where my tumor was resected, but in the secondary location which was only discovered after surgery when a post-surgery scan was done. It was hidden/obscured before the resection and has been in debate and an unknown all along. It could have been just scar tissue from the grand mal seizure, and then the enhancement is radiation necrosis from the radiation treatment? Or it could be a secondary site of the disease. It was looked at closely by both the Good Samaritan and the UCSF Tumor Boards before my treatment began. Once again, the only way they could know for sure what it is is by doing a biopsy = craniotomy. Which no one would ever do - unless I had neurological symptoms that required it. And the good news is I don't appear to have any new neurological symptoms.

[Kiddies: FYI - No one opens up the cranium casually. It's a pretty big deal, so if someone on the street says, "Pssst! Hey, do you want a craniotomy?" Run away. They are not a good person. Didn't your mom or dad ever teach you about stranger danger? Geez-a-louise!]

Kiddy Recap: Just say NO! to candy, puppies, and craniotomies from strangers. Got it?

What we did know is that this secondary site has been very stable (until now).
Reminder: My radiologist took a great deal of time and energy working with the Tumor Boards' recommendations and collaborated with the oncologist and neuro-oncologist to decide what exactly my radiation treatment would be a year ago, and if he would treat this secondary site. The answer was ultimately "yes". Again, no one radiates an area casually, but IF it were cancerous, it was better to take care of it at the same time as the primary site was treated. So.....just like the primary site change of last month's scan, this change might be scar tissue from the treatment (radiation necrosis,) or it might be progression of the disease. The new scan and my case will be reviewed by the UCSF Tumor Board next Thursday, and we will meet with the neuro-oncologist on Friday.

That's all we know. Period.

The last couple of days, I've had this image of walking along and suddenly being confronted with a dark crater. I know that I eventually have to step in that hole and see what happens. It could be a small hole, and I could land on my feet unscathed. Or it could be a very deep, unfathomable hole where I plunge further and further down waiting to find out what happens when I land, crumpled at the bottom. Dazed by the journey, perhaps with serious injury , but hopefully alive.

We told the our family about the situation - that's what we're there for, right?  - to support and love each other.  But I opted not to "go public" until now. No sense in having other people have their Thanksgiving clouded with uncertainty. And I know some of you lovely June's Warriors would fret and get bummed out. Because you are so lovely and empathetic. And I love that about you! <smooches!>

So,  I have tried to avoid going near the crater for the last two days.

  Picture me strolling along in the vineyard with Steven and the doggies, whistling a happy tune and saying, "la, la, la...what hole?", carefully scooting around it....

Or Steven grabbing my hand and gently leading me away from the thing.

My mantra, as you know, is: Worrying won't change the outcome. And just as a reminder:
we have no idea what we're even dealing with right now.

The last few days, I've so enjoyed my family and all the conversations, hugs, kisses, and LOVE that I was lucky enough to be surrounded by. I soaked in the beauty of my children and my granddaughter - their love for each other and me.  (I'm still waiting for pictures of the actual Thanksgiving dinner, so I'll share some other family pictures for now...)

Gratuitous picture of my granddaughter, Autumn. - This might become a regular feature of my blog posts.

I looked, in wonder, at my parents and my brother...

Steven captured this moment on Wednesday, watching the sunset on our patio in the c-c-c-cold with my Dad, Mom, and brother, John.

...and all the rest of the lovely people around the Thanksgiving table and thought we are all so lucky to have this moment, right here. To gaze into each other's eyes and feel so embraced by each other. Precious gifts. I just "walked along" in life and ignored that shadowy hole in the background.

There's a form of torture (I bet it has a technical name, but I don't want to google that shit because that doesn't sound like something I wanted to be imprinted in my brain. And  it will probably lead me to disgusting sites about the Nazis and other loathsome, hateful groups.) But the technique involves making a person wait - not knowing exactly what their fate will be - but instead having them envision all the awful, gruesome things that might be ahead. As I think about it...Who needs google? The technical term is: Mind Fuck, right? As the name implies, it all starts in the mind. I can't control what is happening in my BRAIN right now (for the most part, but that's a discussion for another day), but I CAN control what's happening in my MIND.

I do know that when I have to approach that shadowy crater, Saint Schmoopy (He was canonized this week, if you missed it.) will be by my side. We'll take a deep breath and step in together, as we've done every step of this journey. And with my strong, brave, and loving children, and the unwavering support of my family, and YOU, I will face whatever comes our way. Step by step. After all, that's really all we can do, isn't it? Be brave with me. Yes, it helps!

Love,
June Xoxoxo #MFBCFNW

The One in Which I Talk About the "Turd in the Punchbowl"

Recently, my husband came home from the winery and said, "I was pouring wine to a nice group in the Reserve Room, and then I said something that was like 'the turd in the punch bowl'." I thought...it could be anything, really. Steven is known for saying some things that could be deemed "inappropriate".  Like at one of the latest wine club releases, when Steven somehow tied in the phrase "It's like porn. You know it when you see it." with his welcome address to our club members. I don't know what to say. He has a masters in literature? A way with words? I love my Schmoopy with #nofilter! Can you imagine a more perfect match for the #MFBCFNW?!

Anyway, back to the "turd in the punch bowl". The background: When I was first diagnosed, one of my high school friends sent me some Ninja bracelets from the International Spy Museum that both Steven and I wear every day.

Thanks, Pam! (And the SKW family for the "No One Fights Alone" bracelets!) 

One of the guests asked about his Ninja bracelet and Steven told "The Story" - about how his wife has brain cancer and calls herself a Mother Fuckin' Brain Cancer Fighting Ninja Warrior  - (I'm not sure if he went that far)  -  that she identifies herself as a Ninja Warrior. And the guest said, "Oh, <uncomfortable silence> Because I've been to that museum, and it's really cool."

So, if I understand the turd analogy correctly, the reference to my cancer was the turd. I will admit that having cancer is pretty very shitty, but let me get this straight: We're not supposed to talk about cancer with people we don't really know...or only when it's "appropriate" - maybe when they bring it up first? So we know it's "safe.

I've had my own "turd in the punch bowl" moments recently, I guess. I've dyed my hair blue - all kinds of shades of blue (which is nothing like Shades of Grey, by the way. I sense some disappointment there? Especially with the earlier reference to porn? #sorrynotsorry)-  I've been trying to find the right shade of blue - which I think I've finally found - More like Smurfy than Sharky teal.

My hair started out a caramel color brown when I was young, then darkened a lot through high school and college.

Little June didn't know she was a Ninja Warrior yet.

This isn't a great picture of my hair at my college graduation, but it's an awesome opportunity to show my brother's rad Flock of Seagulls period. And my Mom, Dad, and Grandma.

Then in my 30's, my stylist suggested adding highlights. Eventually, it was very light - and I wasn't really sure what my "natural" hair color was. (I think hair stylist like to do that, don't they? So, they can sucker you into paying mucho dinero every 6 weeks of so.) Well, I ditched my stylist about 2-3 years ago, grew out the highlights, and discovered that there is some gray all along the temples. I'm okay with that. I've earned those grays, but it was a bit of a shock at first. So, I was coloring my own hair to try to match the roots up top as best I could - just coloring the gray.

Then I got cancer. "Fun Fact" (not really "fun", but maybe "interesting"): Unlike some other kinds of chemo, the one I take does not make all of my hair fall out. It's the radiation treatments that were the culprit, so the hair fell out only where the head was radiated. Apparently, a LOT Of my head was being radiated - and don't forget the exit points!

My hair fell out in a strange monk-on-acid-like pattern, I think.

But it's grown in (mostly), and I'm digging my little pixie hair cut. But look at how dark it is! And the gray was even more apparent. Believe me. vanity has gone out the window; however, I realized that I had a unique opportunity to let my freak flag fly and dye it ANY color. But I'm much more conscious about the toxic stuff that we wade through on a daily basis, and I try not to deliberately be in contact with it if I can help it. So, I started buying demi-permanent dyes that wash out after a few weeks and don't contain nasty, toxic stuff. I can't won't bleach all my color out of my hair, so it comes out like a dark brown with colorful highlights.

Relay for Life, Livermore - June 2015

First, I tried purple to celebrate the Relay for Life event, and when that faded, I decided to be bold and try blue. I swear that in all my 51 years of hair colors combined, I haven't ever had as many compliments about my hair as I do now. I've had women, young and old, actually stalk me in stores to stop me and say, "You're hair is gorgeous! I love the blue!"

And more importantly, I love it! 

I've found my "natural" color. I was supposed to have blue highlights with dark hair all along. 

Bird walking...bird walking...where was I? Oh, Yea. 

The Turd.

Twice now, someone has asked me what "inspired me" to go blue.And I tell them the TRUTH - "Well, actually, I have brain cancer, and I lost most of my hair through radiation treatment. When it came back, I decided to do something a little wild." I say it very matter-of-factly, not sad or depressed. I don't start crying or anything. It's just, well, MY LIFE. But the expressions on the faces of those listening to this, though...well....

turd. in. punch bowl.

And you know what?

I call bullshit. If 50% of males and nearly the same percentage of women will get cancer in their lifetime, we need to be talking about it more. And not just when it doesn't make people bummed out or uncomfortable. Or at an event specifically for "OUR" Cancer Awareness. We're supposed to live in this happy, land of unicorns and rainbows where cancer doesn't exist? Or where at least we're not reminded of it? Blissfully in denial? Yet there are so many different kinds of cancer that some cancers have to share months of "awareness"? And ribbon colors.

Just think about that for minute.

While we're on the subject, these months of "Awareness"...like people aren't aware that Breast Cancer or Brain Cancer or Colon Cancer, etc. exist? Let's be honest, and say that these months are really fundraising months for these cancers where we focus on a type of cancer and those who are involved are given more focus by legislators and the public to have a voice to plead their case: Please fund our organizations for research and support. Please help us find a CURE. Well, I would like permission to say that 12 months of the year without being accused of being "inappropriate".

No, I take that back. I'm not asking for permission. Fuck it. I have a #braincancerpass #freepass, Excuse me if I make you uncomfortable or bum you out by talking about my condition when it's "inappropriate". I. have. brain.cancer. And if we don't start talking about cancer more freely, when will it be cured? Is there a disease that has a precedent in modern times - one that affects so many people, and yet we're not frantically pouring money, time, and energy to find a cure?

I know there are a lot of hard-working scientists in research facilities around the world, trying to uncover the mysteries of this disease. And I know this is complicated because each form of cancer has it's own idiosyncrasies. So, let's talk about it. And not act like it's a turd in a punch bowl.

OH, you know my Schmoopy, the one with a "way with words"? At our last oncologist and neuro-oncologist's appointments this month, he asked them point blank: "Do you think we'll ever find a cure for cancer?" Since this has gotten ridiculous long, and that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish, I'll save their answers for another blog entry. But you've got to admit, that's a pretty ballsy thing to ask them, no?

And everyone likes a cliffhanger, right?

The One in Which I Think We Should All "Get a Life!"

It's interesting. I've been thinking about this blog post for a long time. And avoided it. My heart is beating faster now as I get close to posting it. And then I think to myself, what kind of world do we live in where I'm more afraid of speaking my opinions than having brain cancer? So, I'm speaking my truth. The consequences can't be worse than having brain cancer, right?

When I was a freshman or sophomore in high school, I took a class called Ancient Civilizations with Mr. Burns. I have such a vivid memory of the first day of that class which I shared with a H.S. friend recently  - and she had it, too, so it must have been his First Day Tradition, And as a teacher, I appreciate First Day Traditions. Here was his:

He entered the room dramatically, grabbed a piece of chalk from the tray and wrote in letters 3 ft tall across the whole board: "FREEDOM VS. SECURITY".  He then proceeded to tell us that everything we were going to learn about these civilizations - characteristics of any civilization  - were related to the people's decisions about how they balanced these two very important principles.

I loved Mr. Burns' class - he made me think and helped inspire me to give a shit about what was going on in the world. In fact, one could blame him for my quasi-arrest (underage so supposedly expunged?) for painting "U.S. Out of El Salvador" on the high school wall in weather-beater paint...in 3 ft tall letters<--coincidence, or something more?  That's really not fair to Mr. Burns, is it? I really have to shift the blame to my co-conspirators, Pam H. and Mette!

Okay, I can't blame him for that, but he is definitely the reason I knew about El Salvador . And he, no doubt, contributed to my decision to attend college in Washington, D.C. and ultimately get my B.A. in International Politics.

I've never shared my political or religious beliefs with my students. Maybe it's because I taught in elementary school. I've always thought children, until they get out in the world, either 1) believe everything their parents believe or 2) believe the opposite of what their parents believe, just to piss them off.  One kid in Mr. Burns' class screamed, red-faced, at me, saying, "So, you think all Americans should become Commie Pinkos like you!?!" Seriously. "Commie Pinko".  Okay, I was going to school in the late 70's, early 80's, so I'm guessing he learned the term "commie pinko" from his parents. And his extremely harsh reaction was in response to my questioning whether it was fair that so few people could have so much in this country while others struggled without adequate housing, food, etc. Not exactly a radical concept, is it? Or maybe it is. People still argue about it to this day.

But I'm not in a classroom anymore, and I am going to let 'er rip this morning. If that offends you...#sorrynotsorry Sue me. I'll probably die before the suit goes to trial. And guess what! In America, we have this thing called FREEDOM OF SPEECH, and that trumps your "I'M OFFENDED THAT YOU DON'T BELIEVE THE SAME THINGS I DO." gut reaction. I love America, in all it's imperfect glory. And the U.S. Constitution - which was always intended to be living document. (If you don't know what a living document is...I HOPE you're not a Supreme Court Justice, but at any rate, there's always the internet to help you out, right?)

If you don't want to engage in a civilized dialogue about my life-long principles [Hint: I was called a "commie pinko" once in high school] , feel free to just shut this window right now and go on with your life. Doesn't that feel good? Having the freedom to do that? Or if you want to know more about what rolls around in my cancery brain, feel free to keep reading. Warning: I'm feeling fiesty!

The Basic Principle:
I believe that people should have the freedom to do what they want to do in life as long as it is not hurting or endangering other people (security - Thank you, Mr. Burns!). I know there are a lot of issues that are a lot more complicated for this philosophy to really work. But it works on a lot of levels. And I'm "going there" - like I never would on Facebook. In my personal opinion, I believe that Facebook should be a happy place, like Disneyland with cat videos and pretty photographs, and "liking" a bunch of stuff!

A Few Examples of Freedoms that I Don't Believe Hurt You:
People should be allowed to practice their religion where ever or whenever they like. It's none of your fucking business. Unless they plop themselves down in the middle of the street and endanger themselves or other people. I was in the park with my daughters and granddaughter the other day, and as the sun set, three Muslim women descended onto their knees to pray. It makes me sick that there are people in this country that would think that they had ANY right to limit these women's right to do that. Now, if you're a pedophile that has religious beliefs that include having multiple wives that are underage...refer to the previous paragraph. Hurting other people? Yes! No bueno.

People of the same gender should be allowed to marry.  This one enrages me - and don't tell me it's because I have close family members that are gay. I've ALWAYS felt this way. How can you say a loving, committed couple of any gender has ANY impact on your own marriage? You should not get to have ANY say on what they do. It's not impacting your freedoms in anyway whatsoever. It's about LOVE, people. LOVE IS LOVE! Again, if it's not hurting you, Shut the Fuck Up and worry about yourself. Rawwwwr!!! <---That deserves a roar for extra emphasis!

First Same Sex Couple married in NYC  (together for 23 years before)

Another no brainer (no pun intended): Marijuana should be legalized. Period. But let's just start with medical marijuana. Do you know that Colorado has found marijuana to be extremely effective at treating seizures? I asked the neurologist at UCSF about it. (Because I take 6 pills a day - 4 of them very heavy duty anti-seizure meds.) He said they were starting a clinical trial for pediatrics but weren't planning on a trial for adults. You know why? It's "too sticky a political issue". Again, how is the fact that an adult is smoking weed harming or endangering you??? I call bullshit. Yes, we have medical marijuana in CA, but without real clinical trials, we don't have a medical community who can prescribe the right amount or the right strand to get maximum help.

Now, let's just talk about recreational use of marijuana. How is it any different than all you out there, enjoying wine, bourbon, or beer to have a little "buzz" going on? How is it hurting you? I bet you there is much more danger involved in criminalizing marijuana than having it be legal. In fact, I know there are statistics out there about more danger in drinking than smoking. Not mumbo-jumbo statistics. Real science.

I know that I'm not going to change anyone's minds about these issues by writing this. I know that most people have pretty much closed their minds to other ways of looking at things by the time they're ...what?  sixteen? It's a shame, really. But probably true.

Some of you may stop reading my blog because I dared to disagree with your philosophies. political, or religious beliefs. And that's a shame, too.

Blame it on the chemo drugs...or the 100th fucking meme about the Starbucks cups that I've seen on Facebook. I couldn't keep quiet anymore. The fact that the holiday cups or lack of holiday cups at Starbucks offends you in some way. I've got some news for you:

It's not Brain Cancer! Or any of the other diseases or tragic, unexpected events that rob us of a loved one forever.  It's not any of the things that really matter.


GET A LIFE! And treasure it instead of wasting time judging others about stupid things.
Yes, I said, "stupid things". 

Without knowing me, so many of you have reached out and sent me love and encouragement and prayers and support.. and that's everything. If this makes you change your mind about me and whether you support me and my healing and my recovery, I think maybe you need to do some serious soul-searching. But that's just my opinion. And everyone has a right to their own opinion, right?

P.S. I created this blog originally as a forum to talk about living with cancer (and trying to survive).One thing that's come out of it is that I'm realizing that living with a terminal disease gives you a certain freedom to be truly yourself. It's a shame that it had to come to such extremes to realize that. This obviously isn't my whole "truth", and none of what I've written before today is untrue. So, why was I so afraid to post it? I'm not sure, but that's why I finally did it. <deep breath as I hit "publish">

Fear is Fake. Live Now. LIVE YOU NOW.

P.P.S. I've decided that I was supposed to born with blue hair. Bright blue hair.

P.P.P.S. I've always preferred Peets. Starbucks tastes too over-roasted and bitter. In my humble opinion. But that's probably because I'm a commie pinko....

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.