I’m writing to you from the 14th floor of Long Hospital where I can see the tops of the Eucalyptus trees and the fog blowing in and out though my window. It is such a luxury to have a private room after sharing for the last three rounds.

Yes, I decided to do one last round of chemo and I can’t even blame the oncologist. He left the decision totally up to me, as there is no medical evidence that  5 is better than 4, or that the max, 6 is better than 5. So for reasons rational and superstitious, 5 feels right to me.

I was nervous for few days before coming in, but now, tethered to my IV pole, with one day of chemo under my belt, I am feeling relaxed, drowsy and a little loopy.  An example of my brain on chemo: After my premeds and first dose, I was about to eat a turkey sandwich when I noticed that the green white stem was left in my tomato slice.  Without much deliberation I began to outline the stem part with my thumbnail and said to myself, I will do a punch biopsy on my tomato slice.

If all goes  smoothly I should be back home around next Wednesday. Below is something I wrote to a group of friends from my trip to Lake Tahoe a couple weeks ago. This trip was the best preparation for making my decision to do more chemo.

August 1

I am writing to you from the mountains near Donner summit with almost full moon bright in the eastern sky. I’m having a wonderful and unexpected vacation with my daughter Sia. Today we went swimming in Lake Tahoe and Sunday, we went on a hike called the Mt Judah looplocated on a beautiful part of the Pacific Crest trail. I wasn’t sure I’d be up for it but I felt good and it was great to visit familiar flowers and vistas from past hikes. If things had gone according to my plans I would be home now having just completed my fifth round of chemo and not in the mood for swimming or hiking.

The last time I wrote to you I was in the hospital after emergency
surgery for a small bowel obstruction. Once I got home my physical
recovery proceeded smoothly but I was badly shaken and profoundly
disappointed. I had been anticipating going to a poetry writing
retreat for months and delayed chemo treatment so I would be well
enough to attend. The obstruction developed the day before the
retreat. When I got home from the hospital all the things I had laid
out for packing in my happy preparations reminded me of what I missed

When it looked like I might recover quickly enough to go on this trip,
I tried not to get too excited. I was careful to say maybe when I
talked of my plans. I was cautious about what I ate. I planned to pack
the night before but superstition caused me to become very tired and I
fell asleep instead, getting up very early to pack just before I left.
I put a supply of leftover pain pills in my bag, thinking if I started
to get symptoms at least I could control the pain long enough to get
back to UCSF for treatment rather than go to the local hospital.

Since I’ve been here most of my worries have melted away in sunshine
and good company. We stopped for berry pie on the way here and I
haven’t stopped eating since. It is great to feel hungry again. I
keep surprising myself by being able to easily do things I thought
might be difficult. Knowing when caution is wise and when stretching
my boundaries a is healthful is still a difficult call for me to
make. I tend to error on the side of caution. That’s ok for now.  Who
really knows what’s around the next corner?