Chemo now, heart problems later?

Hey my people,

Considering the toxicity of cancer treatment, it seems like common sense that cancer survivors might be vulnerable to heart disease afterward. New research from Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center confirms the obvious: Survivors are at higher risk of cardiovascular disease than the general adult population.

What's surprising in the study is how few respondents were cautioned while undergoing cancer treatment that cardiovascular problems might follow.

The Wake Forest study surveyed 1,582 participants who had survived breast, prostate, colorectal or gynecologic cancers four to 14 years after diagnosis. Participants were asked to describe their cardiovascular disease risk factors-- smoking, body mass index, physical inactivity, hypertension, diabetes--and to report on their discussions with their health care providers about diet, exercise, smoking, and lifestyle change assistance.

Among the survivors, heart-hostile health issues turned out to be sadly common: 62 percent were overweight or obese, 55 percent reported hypertension, 20.7 percent reported diabetes, 18.1 percent were inactive, and 5.1 percent were current smokers.

Nearly a third of respondents who carry one or more risk factors reported that they had not been counseled on how to get healthier after cancer treatment.

This may be true, but I wonder whether they may have been offered more counseling than they heard. For me at least, hearing cancer mentioned in relation to myself still produces a roaring in my ears that drowns out anything factual. Especially if i'm being advised to do anything I don't want to do.

(Based on an April 17 report from RTT News)

Serena Burla, cancer survivor, unhurt in Boston Marathon

There's no sweetness-and-light story to be had out of this day's horror in Boston. So this post is not that.

Still, cancer survivor and first-time Boston Marathoner Serena Burla may have experienced a blessing in disguise: this elite professional runner didn't finish the course.

Cancer tried to end Burla's running days three years ago. What she thought was an injured hamstring proved to be a synovial sarcoma, according to an April 15 report on the Boston's examiner.com. Surgeons at Sloan-Kettering removed a malignant tumor along with the dominant muscle in Brula's right hamstring. She was told she would never run again.

But she did run--not just well enough to jog around the park on Sunday but to compete last year in the Olympic trials and the New York Marathon. By the time she was invited to run in Boston, Burla was rated number four among US women marathoners.

On Monday, however, the race didn't go Burla's way. For reasons not yet clear, she ended her marathon somewhere beyond the halfway mark. I hope the problem was nothing more than a stubbed toe. But how strange to feel relieved on Burla's behalf. Who knew that one day we might be glad a runner missed a finish line?

Introducing Seamus Fridays: Tales of A Dog and His Girl

Hey my people,

Why am I putting a dog in a blog about surviving cancer? If you've been to Cancerville, you don't need me to explain. The dog is one of my principal Well Again adventures. I've always been a cat person (and our cat Bodhi is a whole 'nother story). But my first dog is all about getting back out into the world, not contemplating, cat-style, at a distance. He reminds me that I'm alive way more often than I do.

Seamus the Goldendoodle belongs to my partner and me but with a few strings attached--we're his guardian home, keeping him happy and healthy until he's ready to sire many litters of puppydoodles. After his romantic job is done, Seamus is ours for good, and we can all get old and creaky together.
Seamus's human grandmother, our longtime friend Sheron, is a meticulous and expert breeder who lives in Colorado. She's interested in wonderful pets, not show dogs, and Seamus may be her greatest achievement yet.
His Mom is Charity, a champion golden retriever; his dad, Sky, is a mix of poodle and Saluki (also known as the Persian greyhound). Seamus is golden-sweet, poodle-brainy, and Saluki-fast. In practice, this means he stole my dinner roll last night, outran me, and was so adorable I didn't care.

You can expect to visit with Seamus and his growing family right here every Friday. I'll give you plenty of medical and practical info on cancer during the week -- but weekends are for fun, and Seamus is my Friday guy.

Who brings the Friday in your life?

Joycatcher Moment: Bee on the Job

Just when you're convinced that bees are about to disappear for good, here comes this guy working a flower like--well, like there's no tomorrow. Happy pollinating, my friend. Don't be a stranger.

Cancer, the Mystery. We, the initiates.

Hey my people,

When you run into friends after you've been to Cancerville, they smile and hug you, but there's a certain holding back. Right? A certain awkward silence that was never there before. You can read their minds, although you don't want to. They're thinking: Now that you're back from the dead, who are you?

In a world where cancer is rarely a death trip, that seems really unfair. Like, I've just been through hell and now I have to comfort YOU?

Well, yeah. You do. Cancer is a Mystery, the ancient kind, with a capital M. It's an initiation into a certain kind of priesthood. People fear you afterward, or put you on a pedestal, or get antsy and say dumb things and spill coffee in your lap. That's just how it is. We're different.

After cancer, we'll cook dinner and watch TV and walk the dog. But we'll never be the same.

The first time I had cancer, I wanted to forget it ever happened. The second time, I was so angry, I wanted to rip the world in two. The third time, though, I opened my eyes and saw that I'm in the world's best company. We've been tested, you and I. We've seen the Mystery, and if we can't talk about it to those who stayed behind, is that really so surprising?

Hey my people: That's how I start my posts because that's how I feel about you. If that seems presumptuous—like, if you'd rather be anywhere but in this club—I understand. But I want to be here if you pass this way again. You can't go BACK home after cancer. But you can live to build a new home up ahead. I'm here to help you find it.

My Dinner with Fran Drescher and Friends

Hey my people,
Talk about your holiday cheer! This week I dined under the stars with the one and only Fran Drescher and her close-knit creative family at TV Land's "Happily Divorced."
How'd I get invited? The famed comedienne from Queens is also a committed cancer activist who graciously gave me a listen about Well Again. Fran answered her own cancer diagnosis with her bestselling book "Cancer, Schmancer." After that, she created the Cancer, Schmancer Foundation, which continues to advocate for better healthcare, stronger awareness of environmental carcinogens, and above all, early detection. (Check it out at cancerschmancer.org.)

Fran stands out among cancer heroes because she can share serious information with a laugh--in her case, a laugh that deserves its own star on the walk of fame.

In person, the laugh and the lady are for real. Like Lucille Ball before her, Fran Drescher is a pro's pro who not only stars in "Happily Divorced" but also writes and executive produces it. "TV's very fast," Fran pointed out. "If you're not playing pretty close to yourself, you're sunk."

After our conversation came dinner, hosted by Fran's ex-husband and forever creative partner, Peter Marc Jacobson. The long table on his outdoor terrace glittered with glassware and candles. Healthy veggie dishes kept coming. Short ribs too. And chocolate. I faced Peter's blue-lit pool; behind me were the lights of Hollywood far below.

The conversation was even more fun than the view. I sat next to cast members Robert Walden, a straight-ahead nice guy who plays Fran's dad; and Tichina Arnold, Fran's onscreen best friend, who enlightened me about her own cause: the fight against lupus, which affects three out of five African-American women. Faced with Tichina, I'd say lupus hasn't got a chance.

And then there was Rita Moreno. One of my personal goddesses -- if you haven't seen her in "West Side Story," don't speak to me until you have -- Rita plays Fran's mom on "Happily Divorced." At 65, Rita is more beautiful than ever.  At least that's what I was thinking until Fran announced that tonight was Rita's birthday. Her 81st birthday. 

I had to laugh at life's endless unpredictability. When I was first diagnosed and the doctors were giving me 50/50 odds, did they imagine that 11 years later I'd be eating coconut cake with Rita Moreno?  Not a chance.  So if you're reading this, hold tight to life. Because even if it kicks you today, tomorrow it will throw you all the joy you can catch. 

Meet Jessica: Cancer Road Warrior

"If I fall down, it could kill me, so I don't fall down," Jessica told me -- as we set out on a two-mile walk. Like me, Jessica is a three-time cancer vet. Unlike me, she has complications that threaten her spine.
Jessica's backbone, however, is rock solid. Cancer ended her job, sapped her savings and forced her out of her home, but she's not bemoaning her losses. She and her pickup truck are hitting the road to see America.
I had the privilege of meeting Jessica when she came through LA. To me, she embodies what Well Again is all about. Cancer has done rotten things to her. She's responding by doing things she's always wanted. Jessica's filling her eyes with new sights and her heart with new memories. She's not falling down. She's embracing the adventure.

If you appreciate Jessica's attitude, then how about sending her a shoutout here on the Well Again blog? Better yet, tell Jessica what town or landmark in America you'd most love for her to see.  

On Black Friday, Joycatching means Bargain-snatching

Hey my people, fierce shopping is part of getting Well Again. They tell us to exercise, right? If the Black Friday rush ain't exercise, I don't know what is. So if you're out today in Macy's, Target, Best Buy etc, I say: Take no prisoners! If you survived chemo, you're definitely strong enough to chase down a flat screen TV. When you get home, tell us: how did it go? Send pix so we can gloat with you! Extra points if you're still bald and you leveraged the sympathy factor to get the last XBox bundle.

Joycatcher Moment: Red Leaves, Green Okra

Hey my people,
Cancer taught me to be a joycatcher, and even though it's hard to explain your own joy to anybody else, I keep trying. Because joycatching is helping to keep me here, and I think it could help you too.
This weekend I drove to a memorial service. Yes, it was for a friend who'd died of cancer, although nobody in his right mind would say she lost her battle etc etc. That woman had more fight in her than the Crips, the Bloods, the Marines, and the World Wrestling Federation. I think she just got tired and moved on.
Afterward we found ourselves walking down a sunny street where red leaves danced, ending their journeys in style. We ate Burmese food, our first ever -- new tastes and smells and reasons to celebrate. Life was good. As it always is.

So apparently the cancer's in the fine print

Hey my people, I just came across a mind-blowing story in Time magazine. It goes something like this. Scientists mapped the human genome a dozen years ago, and the 3 billion base pairs that make up our DNA boiled down to just 22,000 genes in different combinations. That accounted for 2% of the genome. The other 98% got labeled junk. This was clearly incorrect. The only existing substance that's 98% junk is Hostess Twinkies.  

Sure enough, science has now ascertained that the 98% of "junk" in DNA contains the mechanisms that tell the other 2% how to behave. I think this is nature's version of the fine print in the iTunes terms and conditions. You just click Accept, because nobody would read through that mess.  The cure for cancer could be hidden in there and you'd never know it.

Oh, wait. That's exactly what's going on in our DNA. Cancer happens when a cell gets ridiculously grandiose instructions, right? "Live forever." "Never stop growing." "Stand out from the crowd." Like a biological Nike ad that wants to kill you.  That bad advice is hiding out in our genetic fine print.  Knowing where is the first step toward achieving cancer treatments that fix our programming instead of bludgeoning every cell we've got.

And that's it. The cure for cancer. We can't quite reach it yet. But for the first time, we can see it.  It's one more reason to stay strong.  Because your future is on the fast track.

Check out this story for yourself: "Don't Trash These Genes," by Alice Park, in the Oct. 22 issue of Time. Here's a snippet to carry with you:

Happy Dia de los Muertos! Because why not?

Hey my people, here in L.A., it's not just Halloween we're all getting ready for. No, in this territory that once was Mexico, we're all about the Day of the Dead. This isn't maudlin and it isn't weird. It's Halloween with the mystery left in. It's a time to remember all the ones we love, and by remember, I mean party. The Dia de los Muertos tradition centers on the creation of figurines that can be scary or endearing, like this esquelato (skeleton) made by kids at a local elementary school in tribute to Michael Jackson. In a blog about life beyond cancer, why am I bringing up such a dicey thing as, you know, death? Because it's good to remember that whenever death comes, it might very well be a party. Why not?

Happy Wooooooooooo!

Hey my people, happy--no, make that crazy-happy--to tell you that Well Again is a REAL NONPROFIT! Also I've been learning about social media becoz apparently I just cannot figure all this out for myself. You know what ROCKS? Twitter!!!!!!

iPhone hell!

Hey my people, this post is gonna be short because i just spent about a hundred years writing a post on my iPhone and then my blogging software crashed. Just know you're all in my mind tonight. (Take that, iPhone!)

Know you're ot forgotten tonight.

She's baaack

Hey my people, so much going on at Well Again!!!! We're assembling our team, doing the right legal things as we establish ourselves as a nonprofit here to make life beyond cancer cooler for you. Oh...in the box? That's Bodhi, the company Maine Coon Cat. He's not so shy once he gets to know you. More to come...soon!

Here we go Zippin'

Hey my people! Thanks, dollyfox, for reminding me to post my zipline photos.  

Catalina Zipline Birthday!

Hey my people, I've been off adventuring and, I hope, making new friends for Well Again. It's time to get back in touch .... And give a grateful Happy Birthday shoutout to my friend Benita. She invited friends (including me!) to ride the boat to gorgeous Catalina Island, and then whoop and holler in the treetops via the Catalina Eco Zipline Tour! Can you imagine? I'll post all the photos my little iPhone can grab.... Now all aboard--- and bring that leftover Zofran you're hoarding. The ocean is choppy today! xo Anne

Obamacare Lives and So Do We!

Hey my people, what a crazy day. Chief Justice John Roberts turns out to be the white knight who keeps us from dragging ourselves back to square one on this gargantuan problem of how to take care of our own in America. Thanks, Mr. Roberts.
We're not home on this by a long shot. The Affordable Care Act is a first step toward the unknown, an action after decades of paralysis. It ain't pretty, but it beats the heck out of nothing at all.
We cancer vets can argue convincingly that the ACA is a lifesaver. If stress makes us more vulnerable to cancer, then it follows that our old model of insurance coverage, based on denial of pre-existing conditions, is in itself a carcinogen. No more. At least not for this round of chemo. ACA is inelegant and imperfect. And for some of you-- maybe me too-- it'll be the cavalry that arrives in the nick of time.
Warmest regards, Anne

Our Well Again team is growing!

Hey my people, please know that folks you've never met are caring about you right now, right this minute. So far your Well Again team has grown to five: two tech genuises, a brilliant life coach; an exuberant designer; and me. Who am I again? I'm your biggest fan.
What are we doing now? Applying for nonprofit status.
What will we be doing in six months? You'll see!
Warmest regards, Anne

Joycatcher Moment: Smile, doggone it!

Hey my people, this is not one of those viral funnies made from Photoshop and stock art. My FB friend and real-life acquaintance Sally V turned around in her pickup truck and this is what her dog was doing. For realz.

Joycatcher Moment: Watts Towers

Hey my people, here's what gave me joy today. Rising from the streets of a poor, tough LA neighborhood, a carnival midway of spiraling, fanciful towers made by one man, Simon Rubio. His materials were concrete, smashed dishes, soda bottles, tiles from all the building sites he worked over a lifetime as a tile-setter. Simon created his towers by himself, building up and around and past his own tiny house. It took him 33 years. He started in 1921 and worked through the Great Depression, World War II, the invention of the atom bomb, the dawn of rock 'n' roll. His tools were a couple of hammers, chisels, pliers, files. By the time he was done, he had no fingerprints. He'd worn them away.
You think miracles don't happen? Oh, but they do.