What does that have to do with this blog? nothing really but let me try.
So, cancer does not do well in oxygenated blood. it hates it. Which is why due to my aerobics, I now have the blood pressure of a teenager. And not that drunken sailor either. Which I still miss by the way :) that doesn't make sense, but I haven't gotten much sleep so I don't care!
I'm filled with movie love and family love and friend love. Yes, movie love. I saw "undertow" last night at the Castro and fell in love again. What a beautiful and graceful movie. Seriously, see it. And the director was so passionate and said all the directory things that only geeks like us love... about location feeding character, shadow and light... the process of letting your script breath on it's own. Sigh and smile :)
So, off to Austin. Have to miss both screenings of WHTSN in Frameline, which sucks (did I mention that I hate being left our of anything??) Off for some treatments, hot springs and a wedding! Timing is everything and not always what you would like I'm finally accepting that.
But before I go, I am transferring my care over to what seems to be the Nasa of breast cancer treatment: UCSF. Just in time, while the bills are piling in and my bank account is drained. Bordering close on the filing that chapter that no one wants to file... is it still 13? The sad thing is, I know of three other people who have it worse than me. The are losing their houses...
Fuck. another friend of mine just told me their biopsy is cancer... she's a lovely woman. Full of life and this just friggin sucks.
Well, this blog was going to be different than I thought now. I am not going to finish it but before I go, this is what I got yesterday as a gift.
I had this amazing conversation with someone who has more advanced breast cancer. she had a mastectomy, but they found cancer in her lymph nodes and hers was super aggressive. It was bad enough that she lost her breast, had to go through full throttle chemo and hormone therapy... she was 44 and it slammed her into an early menopause which put her body into craziness it wasn't ready for. She doesn't regret it, she said she didn't have a choice because of how fast it was moving.
She is so brave and sweet and she is helping me get into UCSF so I can have the best care for my cancer. Before we got off the phone, we talked about how once you have been diagnosed, cancer is a part of your life... for the rest of your life. It's not a death sentence... no one, and even doctors say this now, can tell you what will happen. It's your cancer. There are only odds and you never give in to it. You don't accept it, you fight it. You get it out and try to make sure it never returns. You wage war. Whether it's wheat grass or apricot pits or the best of western medicine. You kill it first. You have to be the cheetah, not the impala.
But there is also a gift in this kind of war. It's figuring out how you want to live your life. There's a saying in some American Indians cultures: when they would great the day with "today is a good day to die." I used to hate that. I lost my sister when I was really young, so the thought of losing anyone was always so painful to me. But when my friend said that now she lives her life asking "what do I want to be doing when I die." ...and I got it. And that's the gift that some of us have to get the hard way... and it's not about choosing how you die. It's all about choosing how you live.
Now I'm going to go love my friend and give her the support so many of you and others in my life have continually given me. And then fly to Austin and wear a silk skirt in 97 degree weather.
xoxoxoRobyn
Robyn does her favorite thing... babble.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Cancer sucks/actors rock: Part One
So... I am waiting for my first Chemo but also getting a second opinion on treatments. A good friend of mine suggested that I check out UCSF, which has the cutting edge newest treatments... so I am, which is yet another stack of paperwork and phone calls, etc but well worth it in the end. I'm still pretty sure about Chemo at this point. It's weird, you know no one can make this decision for you. And it's all a crap shoot in some ways backed up with statistics. My alternative medicine providers are against it, Meg is 50/50, other cancer survivors are mostly for it. And then there is me. With my gut. My gut says a hestitant "yes"... so, we will see. Oh yeah, and if my insurance decides they will pay for it (more on that later.)
Meanwhile, my life is not just about cancer. It's also about my passion for filmmaking and the amazing people I get to work with. I'll tell you right now, I love actors. As most of you know I worked on a web series "We Have To Stop Now" which is making it's mark on the internet and beyond. Season One is playing round the world in film festivals and from the looks of it, Season Two will be heading that way as well. Those ground breaking peeps at Wolfe Video are celebrating their 25th year and so happy that the show is a part of the Wolfe family. And amazingly proud to watch a project that started as a whim, that we produced for about 50 cents and bag of Doritos turn into full-fledged series.
As a director, I have to say the most satisfying thing is working with the actors. I could rave about working with the ladies of Dynakit (Jill, Cathy and Ann) but I've done that over and over (just listen to the commentary on the fan video of Season One) But what I want to talk about is the other crazy good talent I was lucky enough to work with on the show.
Starting with Suzanne Westenhoefer. I actually didn't know much about Suzanne before working with her. I knew she almost made me pee my pants when I saw her at Dinah in 2008 and that she was super sweet when we all hung out backstage. What I didn't know was what a hard working actress she would be... how much she would grow as an actress in the process of Season One and Season Two. How honest she is as a performer and willing to go wherever she needs to go to give a good performance.
Acting on the screen is not an easy to thing to do...ever. Even in a huge budget film, the stop and start... the disconcerting way a director has to break down a scene to film it. And on our series, the hours were xtra crazy long. We shot 8 - 10 pages a day in Season One and then topped it by filming 10 - 12 pages a day on Season Two. Sometimes on a moving ship with a hurricane at our heels.
Now I can tell you stories about producing and directing on that kind of schedule that would curl your hair, but imagine being an actress during that. All the actors pulled off such great work under those conditions, Jill and Cathy having the largest load as the leads. But Suzanne won the prize on our first day of shooting. I remember watching her on the 16th hour:
I was scrunched down behind the camera with the crew... we were all dead tired (I'm still sorry for the hours I put that crew through) and going for the perfect take. No lights in our eyes, not having to look good or perform. Suzanne had been there all day... performing the lines for other actors and then, into makeup and hours later... there she was. Performing like a rock star, like she had been on a film set her whole life.
She put so much trust in me and gave such a nuanced performance at the end of the day... when the rest of us were wilting behind the camera, she knocked it out of the ball park all night long. She friggin rocked it!
I can't wait to see what else Ms. Suzanne Westenhoefer will do in her career. I'm just grateful that I was lucky enough to be one of the first directors to see what a talented and dedicated artist she is.
Johnny McLaughlin...the last I heard, John was working on a new feature that would really show the world what this man can do. Always committed to bring the best to his character and the show, I loved every minute of working with him. My favorite is a scene which you actually haven't seen yet, so I can't give it away. But it's funny, touching and beautifully portrayed.
John is the kind of actor that is willing to expose himself in his part and I love that we get to see what a wonderfully complex character "Guy is. And it would only take an actor with access to all his sweetness, his snarkiness and his grounded talent to pull it off the way John does. Kudos Johnny. Johnny W. McLaughlin I mean :)
My only regret is that I took on too much during that production, so my time with the actors was much more limited than I would have liked. Because there is honestly nothing more amazing than watching what a great actor can do with the written word. Or the unwritten silence. When I was editing Season One, I used to just love to watch Jill and Cathy interact in the silence... or the exquisite timing they found in Ann's words. Ann's writing is a gift in itself... you already start on such a rich ground that it inspires you to do your best work in return.
Watching the actors navigate through the lovely twist and turns of Season Two was especially sweet. I'm really proud of how we all worked so hard in each creative session to find the more complex story lines of Season Two and build off what we sometimes created out of sheer instinct of Season One. And that in face of rocking ships, inhuman hours, carrying grip equipment back and forth, squeaking ropes at dock and other strange noises that come only from "shooting on a ship," I am so proud to see how far this series has come. And that only happens with the passion and dedication of everyone who worked on it.
Part Two: the other uber talented guest stars and supporting leads we got to play with.
Meanwhile, my life is not just about cancer. It's also about my passion for filmmaking and the amazing people I get to work with. I'll tell you right now, I love actors. As most of you know I worked on a web series "We Have To Stop Now" which is making it's mark on the internet and beyond. Season One is playing round the world in film festivals and from the looks of it, Season Two will be heading that way as well. Those ground breaking peeps at Wolfe Video are celebrating their 25th year and so happy that the show is a part of the Wolfe family. And amazingly proud to watch a project that started as a whim, that we produced for about 50 cents and bag of Doritos turn into full-fledged series.
As a director, I have to say the most satisfying thing is working with the actors. I could rave about working with the ladies of Dynakit (Jill, Cathy and Ann) but I've done that over and over (just listen to the commentary on the fan video of Season One) But what I want to talk about is the other crazy good talent I was lucky enough to work with on the show.
Starting with Suzanne Westenhoefer. I actually didn't know much about Suzanne before working with her. I knew she almost made me pee my pants when I saw her at Dinah in 2008 and that she was super sweet when we all hung out backstage. What I didn't know was what a hard working actress she would be... how much she would grow as an actress in the process of Season One and Season Two. How honest she is as a performer and willing to go wherever she needs to go to give a good performance.
Acting on the screen is not an easy to thing to do...ever. Even in a huge budget film, the stop and start... the disconcerting way a director has to break down a scene to film it. And on our series, the hours were xtra crazy long. We shot 8 - 10 pages a day in Season One and then topped it by filming 10 - 12 pages a day on Season Two. Sometimes on a moving ship with a hurricane at our heels.
Now I can tell you stories about producing and directing on that kind of schedule that would curl your hair, but imagine being an actress during that. All the actors pulled off such great work under those conditions, Jill and Cathy having the largest load as the leads. But Suzanne won the prize on our first day of shooting. I remember watching her on the 16th hour:
I was scrunched down behind the camera with the crew... we were all dead tired (I'm still sorry for the hours I put that crew through) and going for the perfect take. No lights in our eyes, not having to look good or perform. Suzanne had been there all day... performing the lines for other actors and then, into makeup and hours later... there she was. Performing like a rock star, like she had been on a film set her whole life.
She put so much trust in me and gave such a nuanced performance at the end of the day... when the rest of us were wilting behind the camera, she knocked it out of the ball park all night long. She friggin rocked it!
I can't wait to see what else Ms. Suzanne Westenhoefer will do in her career. I'm just grateful that I was lucky enough to be one of the first directors to see what a talented and dedicated artist she is.
Johnny McLaughlin...the last I heard, John was working on a new feature that would really show the world what this man can do. Always committed to bring the best to his character and the show, I loved every minute of working with him. My favorite is a scene which you actually haven't seen yet, so I can't give it away. But it's funny, touching and beautifully portrayed.
John is the kind of actor that is willing to expose himself in his part and I love that we get to see what a wonderfully complex character "Guy is. And it would only take an actor with access to all his sweetness, his snarkiness and his grounded talent to pull it off the way John does. Kudos Johnny. Johnny W. McLaughlin I mean :)
My only regret is that I took on too much during that production, so my time with the actors was much more limited than I would have liked. Because there is honestly nothing more amazing than watching what a great actor can do with the written word. Or the unwritten silence. When I was editing Season One, I used to just love to watch Jill and Cathy interact in the silence... or the exquisite timing they found in Ann's words. Ann's writing is a gift in itself... you already start on such a rich ground that it inspires you to do your best work in return.
Watching the actors navigate through the lovely twist and turns of Season Two was especially sweet. I'm really proud of how we all worked so hard in each creative session to find the more complex story lines of Season Two and build off what we sometimes created out of sheer instinct of Season One. And that in face of rocking ships, inhuman hours, carrying grip equipment back and forth, squeaking ropes at dock and other strange noises that come only from "shooting on a ship," I am so proud to see how far this series has come. And that only happens with the passion and dedication of everyone who worked on it.
Part Two: the other uber talented guest stars and supporting leads we got to play with.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
"Nobody dies from Breast Cancer"
"Nobody dies from Breast Cancer"....
I sort of snapped out of the slide show in my head at that point and stared at my oncologist. I know that's not what she just said, but I'm pretty sure that's what she meant. I actually have no idea what she had said... all I know is that it landed with a thud in my gut.
On my way to the office that day, I was going over some blog ideas that had me chuckling. They had to do with being out of work during all this, asking if I can do my medical paperwork during radiation (because the paperwork and insurance two-step is never ending,) and a funny dialogue about my boob scar.
As you know, up until today, I had a great "low risk" report card. Tumor and it's little cancer following gone... good margins, hormone treatable (other technical things from the cancer biopsy that I never wrote down but are in my favor) all good. I was in the low risk category for recurrence of breast cancer or cancer of any kind. Except for one thing that was "worrisome"... The cancer cells they extracted were dividing much too fast for a low risk diagnosis.
So we did another test: Oncotype DX. what they do is chart the cancer and the chance of a recurrence. It's actually pretty cool as they chart 23 genes in the sample to come up with this rating. MY rating? 23: 15% chance of cancer somewhere else in my body in the next five years. That put me smack in the gray area of the spectrum. If it was 18 or under, it would low risk still and would go along with the rest of the diagnosis. 30 and over would put me at high risk. The temperature of my cancer turns out to be medium rare... and it's my bet.
That was one of the things I was thinking about after she told me my score and explained what it meant. She showed me the sheet, but honestly, I was out at that point. I was having a slide show of the future... liver tests, since my liver was a concern before. Head scarves, because she was "offering" chemo... and worldwide poker.
Having cancer at that moment put in a version one of my favorite shows "worldwide poker series" Here I was, waiting to bet on the big hand of cancer. I had 85% with the cards in my hand and the flop. (okay, I actually don't know if I'm at the river card or not... once again, hard to say with cancer but anyway...)... based on statistics, if I take the next chemo card then no matter what my chances of winning increase to app. 93%.
Seems like an easy choice except what had happened was that I was sort of lulled into thinking I was getting out chemo free. All the signs were there and encouraging. It also meant I wasn't at any calculable risk for cancer anywhere else. I think once my liver was clear I thought I was cool. I was already writing my cancer hero's journey, complete with lessons learned both physical and emotional... strong warrior woman with a head scarf standing on a rock over Hollywood... wait, that friggin scarf should have tipped me off. Regardless, I saw my future in the next month or two.
So, here I am staring at my doctor. And my future is right now and the cancer free is at least six months off and it what hit me in the gut was this: I'm not playing for my boobs right now.
I could be playing for my liver or my kidneys... my tumor was near the chest wall, so I could be playing for my lungs... this was the first time I had felt that the decision I made was directly going to effect my chances of survival. Drinking wheat grass gently says "stop it cancer"... sort of the way I envision a yoga teacher attacking someone and then settling into the "gentle warrior" pose. Chemo says "fuck off and die invader... I may lose some but you are GOING DOWN MUTHA-FUCKER." Big guns.
I wonder what she was thinking as she waited. She's a nice woman, but I can hear in her head : "Geez, I am talking about cancer and you are worrying about your hair?" I focused in and she said that because I'm a young woman (obviously the one thing she hasn't looked at is my age) and that the benefits high out way the risks. And then, when I made my decision she smiled and said that she believes I made the right choice. And she actually looked like she was happy.
So... Chemo it is. 3 week sessions, four times. then radiation. then hormones. Now this my friends should be an adventure!
Next time: Hairstyles of the chemo and "how the hell do I prep for this one?"
I sort of snapped out of the slide show in my head at that point and stared at my oncologist. I know that's not what she just said, but I'm pretty sure that's what she meant. I actually have no idea what she had said... all I know is that it landed with a thud in my gut.
On my way to the office that day, I was going over some blog ideas that had me chuckling. They had to do with being out of work during all this, asking if I can do my medical paperwork during radiation (because the paperwork and insurance two-step is never ending,) and a funny dialogue about my boob scar.
As you know, up until today, I had a great "low risk" report card. Tumor and it's little cancer following gone... good margins, hormone treatable (other technical things from the cancer biopsy that I never wrote down but are in my favor) all good. I was in the low risk category for recurrence of breast cancer or cancer of any kind. Except for one thing that was "worrisome"... The cancer cells they extracted were dividing much too fast for a low risk diagnosis.
So we did another test: Oncotype DX. what they do is chart the cancer and the chance of a recurrence. It's actually pretty cool as they chart 23 genes in the sample to come up with this rating. MY rating? 23: 15% chance of cancer somewhere else in my body in the next five years. That put me smack in the gray area of the spectrum. If it was 18 or under, it would low risk still and would go along with the rest of the diagnosis. 30 and over would put me at high risk. The temperature of my cancer turns out to be medium rare... and it's my bet.
That was one of the things I was thinking about after she told me my score and explained what it meant. She showed me the sheet, but honestly, I was out at that point. I was having a slide show of the future... liver tests, since my liver was a concern before. Head scarves, because she was "offering" chemo... and worldwide poker.
Having cancer at that moment put in a version one of my favorite shows "worldwide poker series" Here I was, waiting to bet on the big hand of cancer. I had 85% with the cards in my hand and the flop. (okay, I actually don't know if I'm at the river card or not... once again, hard to say with cancer but anyway...)... based on statistics, if I take the next chemo card then no matter what my chances of winning increase to app. 93%.
Seems like an easy choice except what had happened was that I was sort of lulled into thinking I was getting out chemo free. All the signs were there and encouraging. It also meant I wasn't at any calculable risk for cancer anywhere else. I think once my liver was clear I thought I was cool. I was already writing my cancer hero's journey, complete with lessons learned both physical and emotional... strong warrior woman with a head scarf standing on a rock over Hollywood... wait, that friggin scarf should have tipped me off. Regardless, I saw my future in the next month or two.
So, here I am staring at my doctor. And my future is right now and the cancer free is at least six months off and it what hit me in the gut was this: I'm not playing for my boobs right now.
I could be playing for my liver or my kidneys... my tumor was near the chest wall, so I could be playing for my lungs... this was the first time I had felt that the decision I made was directly going to effect my chances of survival. Drinking wheat grass gently says "stop it cancer"... sort of the way I envision a yoga teacher attacking someone and then settling into the "gentle warrior" pose. Chemo says "fuck off and die invader... I may lose some but you are GOING DOWN MUTHA-FUCKER." Big guns.
I wonder what she was thinking as she waited. She's a nice woman, but I can hear in her head : "Geez, I am talking about cancer and you are worrying about your hair?" I focused in and she said that because I'm a young woman (obviously the one thing she hasn't looked at is my age) and that the benefits high out way the risks. And then, when I made my decision she smiled and said that she believes I made the right choice. And she actually looked like she was happy.
So... Chemo it is. 3 week sessions, four times. then radiation. then hormones. Now this my friends should be an adventure!
Next time: Hairstyles of the chemo and "how the hell do I prep for this one?"
Friday, June 4, 2010
the decidely whiny cancer warrior weekend
this weekend:
" I don't want to have cancer. I want to be healthy and drink Mojitos and play poker and go dance to GAGA for hours and then eat Carl's Jr. at 2 in the morning. I don't want to think about what "good for me" thing I should eat and how radiation is going to be weird and chemo, even weirder yet! I don't want to wait for results or be strong or brave. I want to be that 17 year old drunken sailor (I relate my inner child to a gay teenage sailor...my closest friends would agree)... I don't want to care if my insurance co. is running everyone around and threatening not to pay, I don't want to wait for any more friggin test results, don't want to give blood or have dye shot into me... just stick a thermometer in, tell me the temperature of the cancer and let's get the fuck on with it!!!!"
Yes...I had a decidedly whiny Memorial weekend Saturday. My girl was at a family reunion (thank god, poor thing, she's been attending the post surgery moi) so it was me and the kittens. After I visited my Mom and was a good little warrior, I went home and had my crying tantrum. I came home and cried like a baby for as long as it took to get it all out of my system.
Then, I ate popcorn with butter (ooh, la la!) and had ice cream (pretended it was a frozen Mojito)...played video games with the kittens in my lap and watched the entire second season of "Legends of the Seeker." (no, it had nothing to do with red leather) The next day, I pried myself from the adventures of medieval warriors with strange and sometimes hot powers, and went to the gym. I drank my wheat grass. I wrote in between napping with kittens. I even meditated...that's right, me, MEDITATED! And then I blasted Lady Gaga and danced until it hurt my boob... which was exactly 10 minutes.
One thing I've learned is that every brave warrior needs to acknowledge the other side of being brave. Cancer sucks. Yes, It's been a turning point for me to really see who I am, what I am made of and most importantly, who I want to be... but it still sucks. And just like anything else in life, it's my choice on what I do with what has been handed to me in life. And in some instances, what I've handed myself.
It made me think about how even before Cancer, would have such judgments about feelings I had instead of just having them and moving on. I never realized how hard I was on myself until I couldn't be anymore. I've had to become so much more patient with myself and my body... and because of that, it's so much easier to deal with things. Maybe it's because the weight of having to be a perfect human has lifted? I don't know... I just know that giving myself freedom to be flawed and make mistakes allows me to be so much more present and open to the world around me. Even when it sucks!
" I don't want to have cancer. I want to be healthy and drink Mojitos and play poker and go dance to GAGA for hours and then eat Carl's Jr. at 2 in the morning. I don't want to think about what "good for me" thing I should eat and how radiation is going to be weird and chemo, even weirder yet! I don't want to wait for results or be strong or brave. I want to be that 17 year old drunken sailor (I relate my inner child to a gay teenage sailor...my closest friends would agree)... I don't want to care if my insurance co. is running everyone around and threatening not to pay, I don't want to wait for any more friggin test results, don't want to give blood or have dye shot into me... just stick a thermometer in, tell me the temperature of the cancer and let's get the fuck on with it!!!!"
Yes...I had a decidedly whiny Memorial weekend Saturday. My girl was at a family reunion (thank god, poor thing, she's been attending the post surgery moi) so it was me and the kittens. After I visited my Mom and was a good little warrior, I went home and had my crying tantrum. I came home and cried like a baby for as long as it took to get it all out of my system.
Then, I ate popcorn with butter (ooh, la la!) and had ice cream (pretended it was a frozen Mojito)...played video games with the kittens in my lap and watched the entire second season of "Legends of the Seeker." (no, it had nothing to do with red leather) The next day, I pried myself from the adventures of medieval warriors with strange and sometimes hot powers, and went to the gym. I drank my wheat grass. I wrote in between napping with kittens. I even meditated...that's right, me, MEDITATED! And then I blasted Lady Gaga and danced until it hurt my boob... which was exactly 10 minutes.
One thing I've learned is that every brave warrior needs to acknowledge the other side of being brave. Cancer sucks. Yes, It's been a turning point for me to really see who I am, what I am made of and most importantly, who I want to be... but it still sucks. And just like anything else in life, it's my choice on what I do with what has been handed to me in life. And in some instances, what I've handed myself.
It made me think about how even before Cancer, would have such judgments about feelings I had instead of just having them and moving on. I never realized how hard I was on myself until I couldn't be anymore. I've had to become so much more patient with myself and my body... and because of that, it's so much easier to deal with things. Maybe it's because the weight of having to be a perfect human has lifted? I don't know... I just know that giving myself freedom to be flawed and make mistakes allows me to be so much more present and open to the world around me. Even when it sucks!
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