And as long as we're being supportive...

The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and OVAC have joined forces to urge legislators to increase the budgets of the National Institute of Health and the National Cancer Institute. This supports vital cancer research efforts. Contact your representatives here.

Support the American Cancer Society!

Help our friend Bryan Kappy raise money for the American Cancer Society. He's taken on the unenviable task of running Chicago's annual Shamrock Shuffle. (The sheer thought makes me hyperventilate.) Go Kappy Go!!!

http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/DetermiNation/DNFY10Illinois?px=14175880&pg=personal&fr_id=25051&fl=en_US&et=XVj27bXWBgTGUiwvI0fAMA..&s_tafId=469704

On to other things. Or not. Just things.

I was going to write about my latest obsession with wedding blogs and all things DIY. (Who knew I was crafty?) But then I remembered that this blog is about cancer and dance and not my lack of focus. Stay on track, Chemo Girl.

A report on this cycle, my 3rd. The first dose left me wondering whether my nagging symptoms would drag through the next treatment. Thanks to an easier experience on my second dose, I credit a few things:

-The chemo drugs were pushed through my IV at a slower rate this time. (Thanks drug-pushing nurses!) Two drugs are administered via syringe, so it's totally up to my nurse and her thumb. The other two take a slightly longer journey from very severe looking plastic bags and swirl through a long tiny tube into whichever lucky vein we've picked this week. The miracle of chemo.

-I've had the extreme fortune to participate in a very conveniently timed research study involving fascial release work. My fearless massage therapist, Jenice, takes on the weekly quirks facing my body. Initially I really noticed a reduced amount of jaw pain, and flu-like aches are significantly less. Insert positive testimonial HERE!  (Unfortunately I don't know how to add links to posts. Who wants to teach me?)

On to chemo treatment number 6! Almost halfway...

A Cancer Dance

I think it involves some super aggressive rhythm tap, 13 fouette turns and lots of punches thrown at some abnormal cell growth that never saw it coming. As predicted, the cancer cells have a limited time left in my body. In fact, it's expired. To be completely and dimwittedly technical, on a MACROscopic level, the cancer has diminished in a way that my PET scan could not detect it. On what I can only guess is a microscopic level, it could still be there. For this reason I will continue on my current treatment trajectory through May. An okay trade-off.

About the aforementioned cake wishes: today Mom brought cupcakes to treatment! What else can I casually hope for in this blog?

The BEST News!

After anxiously awaiting the results of my PET scan, I learned this afternoon that I am well on my way to beating this thing. My nurse's words: "the Hodgkin's has significantly lessened." This is all I know. Way too excited to formulate intelligent questions!!! More details will follow my appointment on Monday.

Having completed my second cycle (four treatments) of chemo, my doctor wanted to check the progress of my treatment.  I am just now able to spout out the names of my particular cocktail. Since I've traded vodka tonics for bleomycin,  I certainly was not interested in switching to a much more invasive mix with new confusing names and icky side effects.

A sigh of relief and a celebratory cheer are in order! This is really great news.

The Adventures of Chemo Girl!

Her special power? In moments of sheer exhaustion, Chemo Girl surprises her fiercest foes with sudden bursts of energy: jumping in heels during a rare night out, dancing through the nausea in company class.

Every one of these startling instances is her opportunity to deliver a time bomb to these vicious invaders. Her energetic optimism is just a reminder: your days are numbered, cancer cells.

And she wears a cape.

Stay tuned! Tomorrow Chemo Girl meets her fate at the PET scan...