Kathleen will post more about thes photos (updated by brother).

First Trip to Germany, with sister.

Other

All is Good! It appears that I have managed to row my little coracle out of another episode of hell-symptoms and am floating along fine today––well enough to be working on a number of new poems! It’s interesting, it seems as though it takes my getting knocked-down sick to soften some part of me that I usually work very hard at keeping strong and impenetrable. I have been brought to tears many times today. It feels like a gift and a relief.

When I checked my emails from yesterday and today I was reminded of how none of us are alone as we balance our ration of suffering and fear with our wonder and celebration: the terrifying news of a friend’s beloved brother with an unexpected recurrence of cancer, the thrilling notice of a cousin expecting twins: a boy and a girl, the tale of adopting a puppy with the necessity for constant vigilance but the incredible bonding that also comes, and the reassurance from a friend of continued friendship despite my tendency toward self-absorption and sporadic communication…

And then, as if my heart wasn’t already brimming, Ellie, the woman who handed me the first end of the healing rope I am presently following just called from here in Munich! It was our first time getting to talk. She is a friend of a friend of a friend whom I’ve not yet met in person but who referred me to my acupuncturist (aka: Healing Angel) Mudita Voigt. Mudita has not only been an extraordinary healer in her own right on my behalf; but, has also untiringly searched for my cure since we met nearly two years ago. And it was this same Mudita that found out about Dr. Kübler and his revolutionary treatment and encouraged me to look into its possibilities. So, I have now spoken to Ellie, the first link…

Yesterday in the clinic I was lying next to a woman from Carmel (there have been several women from our part of California treated at this clinic, that I know about, in the past several months but she and I are the only “California girls” presently being treated) and at one point in our conversation, we got to talking about the extraordinary experience of feeling mysteriously but unmistakably “led” to each next step of our healing. She, too, had experienced a strong “knowing” that led to certain decisions even when they went against what the western doctors recommended. And like me, she feels so grateful that she was given and then followed those intuitions (aka: Grace).

Ok, I’m going to try and rein-in my philosophical and cosmic galloping today and tell you that I ventured out of Munich last Friday to visit the nearby Alps! I got the thrilling news my family will be coming at different times in October to visit and so I decided I had better do some reconnaissance beforehand so that I could show them some great sights.

I had been tracking the weather all week on the web and felt quite proud of this uncommon prudence (Ha!) on my part. It was a cloudless morning when I left Munich so I brought no rain gear, just a warm jacket, hat, scarf, camera, and the pig (of course!). I took a 90 minute train out of the city, through the rolling green pasturelands of rural Bavaria, through wooded stretches, over milky green rivers, and past little towns where there’s always at least one magnificent and pointy church steeple sticking above all the brilliantly white-painted houses with thier red roofs.

Just as the train was pulling into my destination town of Garmisch Partenkirchen (sight of the 1936 Winter Olympics) it began to sprinkle: rain! My intention had been to travel to the summit of the Zugspitze, Germany’s highest peak that, according to my Daytrips Germany guide, “offers a fantastic panoramic view extending across four nations. At one time, only mountain climbers could enjoy this spectacle, but today an ingenious network of cable cars and a rack railway make the ascent fast, easy and safe.” My trip would include “a ride on the Zugspitze Banhof, a small rack railway that would take me past Eibsee, a lovely lake near the foot of the mountain reached in about 40 minutes, and then would plunge into a long tunnel, winding its way like a corkscrew up through the middle of the Zugspitze to reach Germany’s highest skiing area at 9, 340 feet above sea level half an hour later.” Then, I would take “the Gletscherbahn glacier cable car for a quick few minute ride up to the summit, Zugspitzgipfel at almost 10, 000 feet where I could stroll out to a sunny terrace and survey the world below, have a snack, and/or cross the border to Austrian soil and have another snack…and then return back on the Eisbee cable car for the thrilling ten-minute descent directly to the Eisbee lake and then back on the rack railway again to Garmisch Partenkirchen…”

Well, when I got to the ticket booth to buy this round-trip excursion pass, I took a look at the live web-cam showing views of the top of the mountain: it looked like it was snowing on the moon! I was definitely not prepared for that kind of weather and knew I would be disappointed to have little visibility along the way and at the top.

So instead, I opted for going up a closer mountain and still got to ride the rack railway and take a gondola up to a restaurant at 6, 725 feet. I ate a traditional Bavarian lunch of goulash and spätzle (short doughy pieces eaten as noodles) on a sunny deck surrounded by the snow-laced Alps all around, complete with Bavarian music cranked over the stereo speakers. From there I caught another gondola to another lodge (these people know how to live!) and then walked for half an hour taking deep breaths of that vital air that can only be found at high altitudes, snapping tons of pictures of the surrounding peaks (und mein klein schwein–snort! snort!) and the autumnal trees with their leaves just beginning to turn yellow and persimmon-colored. There were wonderful benches placed along the ledges, every one of them occupied by other “day-trippers”. I was thrilled to see that the majority looked to be 20-40 (!) years older than I out walking the paths in their hiking boots and armed with their walking sticks. Truly inspiring! I caught my last gondola (sadly) down the mountain, took the rack railway back to town and the regular train to Munich. What a day! As you can imagine, I’m still reeling from the mountains’ eloquent grandeur.

And, I still hope to get to the top of the Zugspitze with one of the daring family groupings that are coming next month; not to mention, the 12th century abbey where the monks still brew what’s said to be the best beer in Germany! (If Germany arguably makes the best beer of any country in the world and this sanctified place makes the best beer in Germany, then wouldn’t it follow that theirs must be the best beer in the world?! I feel a bit obliged to do reconnaissance on that one, too!)

¡Basta ya! As is said, not in German but Spanish, when “enough’s enough”. I’m going to blame this long rambling on my friend Dane who wrote and encouraged me to write blog entries: “the longer and more detailed, the better, and more entertaining, and crucial to keeping all your reader’s existential separation anxiety issues abated.” I don’t know if this approximates what he had in mind when he wrote “more entertaining” and I certainly hope you’re not afflicted with too much “existential separation anxiety issues”; but rather, I hope this week’s dispatch finds you healthy, even frequently frolicksome, and able to eek out some well-deserved rest now and then!

Alles ist Gut
und
Alles Liebe,
Katalina

PS: I’ll try and get my brother to load a couple of Alps photos here. Stay tuned.

Other

Yesterday I received my fourth treatment with Dr. Kübler–just 6 more to go! I’m happy to report that my veins cooperated on the first try again and worked splendidly for the whole treatment. All the love you are sending is doing the trick! I also got my slow drip of dendritic cells and then for dessert, 2 shots of the flu vaccine. As promised, my symptoms came on sooner than last week. In fact, I was in line at the grocery store a few hours later when I started to feel like I was going to explode! I don’t think the sweet-looking old woman, fumbling through her purse for exact change, had any idea that I was standing behind her trying to decide whether to leave my groceries and bolt for the door or just keep deep-breathing my way through it. I settled on the latter and made it home just in time!

Since I took Ibuprofin at the first sign of symptoms last time and that seemed to lessen them but I think also made them last twice as long, I held off this time. Bundled in bed with the heating pad and “24” playing on the DVD player, I progressively got more and more chilled, nauseous, and achey. Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it, the phone rang and it was Howard! What a difference to hear his loving voice and feel his empathy and encouragement. So, as he has been for me innumerable times since I met him, Howard was my saving grace, my angel again!

Also as promised, the worst of the symptoms worked their way through in about 4 hours and I slept well last night. I’m still in pjs after spending the morning getting lost in a novel. I don’t have big plans for the day: maybe a load of laundry, a little vacuuming, and if all goes well, a walk in the park at sunset (see if the gnats still look like fire sparks in the sunlight and my slightly-altered state). I’m grateful to rest. Tomorrow, I’ll hit the pool and be up to my old tricks of haunting the city asking people if they “schprekenze English?”

Last weekend, I took advantage of the discounted rates for visiting the state-run museums (1 Euro on Sundays) and saw an amazing photography exhibit called “Humanism in China” at the Pinakothek der Moderne. There were several rooms filled with photographs of the Chinese people in their every day life taken by numerous Chinese photographers over the last twenty or so years. Yesterday, as my blood was being pumped in and out, I spent a long time reviewing in my mind as many of the different scenes from the exhibit as I could remember. A few that captured my imagination included: children crossing a suspension bridge to go to and from school everyday and where the wooden planks run out a girl of about nine balances on the wire cable, her slippered-feet arched around it, her hands holding tight to the cables above; a young man covered in soap suds from head to toe, bathing himself from a bucket in front of some apartment buildings, his head tilted back and smiling widely; or another man who has created a make-shift bed on top of two occupied train seats on a crowded train and is holding onto the luggage rack to keep his perch. In fact, there were many incredible crowd shots, but two really caught my eye of commuters on their way to work. In one: hundreds of people are walking their bikes across a bridge, tire to tire. And in the other, a line of moped taxis, three across, take people to work, lined-up again, tire to tire, driving along the sidewalk. I could go on and on, but maybe I’ll save it for a poem…I think I might have to go back and see the exhibit again.

After the museum visit, I rode my bike to the Japanese Tea House in the English Garden just in time to observe a traditional Japanese Tea Ceremony. I couldn’t understand the introduction before the demonstration nor the impressive amount of questions and answers afterwards because they were conducted in German; but, the silent reverence for each thing and act observed in the ceremony itself left me with an ethereal calm that I took out into the afternoon with me. Also, as the river runs right next to the Tea House the sporadic sound of duck quacking, coming through the rice paper walls, really rounded out the mix of languages I was experiencing: German, Japanese, English (in my head), and Duck. Quite a multicultural experience.

So, thanks so much for checking-in here. As I write, I’m picturing your faces and feeling your friendship and it’s almost like I’m with you––which is always such a gift!

On another note, I have heard that emails you’ve sent have been bouncing back. I think the problem was based in some emails with Shakespeare lectures included that I asked Howard to send me. I have saved them to my hard drive and I think there is room to receive new messages again. Sorry for the technical difficulties. It was weird, some emails were getting through…Go figure.

I am sending you my love,
Kathleen

Other

I got my first twin shots of a flu vaccine yesterday. I believe the idea behind the use of them as part of my treatment is to kick my immune system into the “fight” mode. Once that’s happening, the dose of natural killer cells and dendritic cells can hunt down the tumor cells and destroy them. And, I must say, it does feel like there’s a bit of a war going on inside.

Frau Kübler warned me that I’d probably start feeling flu symptoms about 6 hours after the shots but that they should only last a few hours. It’s a strange feeling to walk around the city visiting the vegetable stand, the cheese hut, choosing which bread to try this time at the bakery, feeling just fine but being aware that soon I probably won’t…I suppose it could be seen as a microcosm of my experience of cancer: the gift of having a heightened awareness and appreciation of when I’m feeling well and functioning normally with the underlying understanding that it might not always be so. Of course, we all don’t know… but this diagnosis is a constant reminder to dive in deeply and leave as little undone or uncherished as possible.

Anyways, I started to feel kind of punky around 6pm but the real onslaught of chills, aches, and nausea didn’t hit me until 1 am! I know I should have been asleep at that “unteacherly” hour but I made the mistake of dipping into the only English DVDs I can find in the apartment: a whole season of “24”. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s a high-speed suspense drama with Kiefer Sutherland playing an anti-terrorist agent. Not usually my cup of tea; but, I confess, I’m sucked-in! There are numerous plots and intrigues weaving in and out of each other on personal and national levels raising interesting questions about how one act or attitude can ripple through the fabric of society setting-off…yaddy-yaddy-yaddy…The ugly truth is, when one episode ends I feel compelled to watch just one more… So, seeing once again that I often come-up short in the personal discipline area, I’ve decided to limit myself to watching only one disc on the nights of my treatment! Otherwise, I promise, reading and writing poetry is what is truly giving me the most pleasure and satisfaction.

I’ll admit the symptoms aren’t fun but all I needed to do last night was remind myself that they are nothing compared to some of the horrors and long-lasting side effects of doing chemotherapy or radiation! And, again, I truly believe this is the cure in the making!

Today, I feel like one might the second day of having the flu. Still achy, no appetite, and I’m moving pretty s-l-o-w-l-y; but, I walked to the park and found a bench that the sun was still shining on at 7pm. I’m bundled up because it ain’t warm—fall and the rain have been with us for days upon days—but I swear that park is strong medicine for what can ail a soul! The gnats were out in droves but in the setting sun they looked like auburn sparks floating on the wind. I’m just out-of-it enough that I found myself thoroughly entertained watching them for some time! (And no, I didn’t visit the biergarten first!)

I guess that’s the big news for now. I suspect I’ll feel better tomorrow and be ready to resume my morning routine of swimming—in the free-for-all, no lane markers, swimming frenzy of the German public swimming pool. It just runs completely contrary to all the stereotypes of strict organization and efficiency I’ve always heard is the trademark of this culture. I can’t decide whether it’s actually a remarkable, yet highly unconscious, underwater choreography performed by a mass of total strangers or if it’s a heedless acting-out of the primal need to give in to chaos. I guess: maybe a little bit of both.

Please soak up some of that dry, warm weather I hear you’ve been enjoying in Santa Cruz for me!

Lots of love und schnitzel to you!
Frau Flowers

Other

I’m back in Münich! I had a wunderbar time in Dettelbach at my friend Angelika’s childhood home. She and her parents were so good to me in every way–treating me as if I were the prodigal daughter finally returning. They speak more English than I do German but there was a lot of looking up key words in the German-English dictionary when Angelika wasn’t around to translate. I felt like a 2 year old again listening so carefully to try and pick up words here and there. I’d catch myself parroting aloud what I heard and then practicing it under my breath until I got a chance to use it and surprise everyone. So fun! Her parents really reminded me of my German-American grandparents, their mannerisms, their gentleness and incredible good-nature. And the food took me right back to those glorious days of sitting down to eat at Grandma’s table: fresh fruits and vegetables from the garden, great bread, and 20 different kinds of sausages and cold cuts–I kid you not! You know me, I could spend the whole blog talking about the food, but I’ll show a little more discipline here than I did during the meals there! (Please don’t tell Herr Doctor Kübler that I blew-off my special diet. I just figured, when am I gonna’ get a chance like that again? And I’m sated now and back to the protocol.) Besides eating, we spent time in their paradisical garden. I talked big about helping but mostly we sat and admired all the flowers, trees, and bird song, sipping the local wine mixed with sparkling mineral water: weinshcoller (not sure if I got the spelling right). Angelika also took me on some wonderful walking tours of the town and we spent one afternoon driving through the green, greeen, GREEN rolling hills and farmland visiting other towns. Another day, we went to the nearest city, Würzberg, and spent the afternoon walking through the palace, turned museum, and its gorgeous gardens. We did spend one afternoon with some of Angelika’s friends hanging-out at a couple of the wineries, trying the wine that is only grown in that region of the world, and which pretty much just gets sold only there. Unfortunately, everyone wanted to be able to converse, so I didn’t get a real dose of Polka music. Guess I gotta’ go back next year…
So, second treatment was on Wednesday and I was all geared-up to get really sick again. Didn’t happen! I felt fine all afternoon and evening. But, they are warning me that next week I get my first flu shot vaccinations (2) and I most likely will get similar symptoms as I did last week. Good news is: the symptoms should only last a few hours. As long as I know that feeling awful is a sign that the medicine is working, hunting down and killing those evil cancer cells (Pac Man style), than I think I can handle it. It’s those “mysterious” sicknesses that put me a bit on edge, if you know what I mean.
I hear it’s been uncharicteristically HOT in Santa Cruz. Sounds kinda’ good. It’s been overcast and rainy here. Feels like fall. Luckily, it’s not too cold. I’m riding my bike through the park, swimming at the indoor pool in the mornings, and this afternoon I discovered where the HUGE outdoor market is downtown. Chanterelle mushrooms are in season so there are these great pyramids of golden fungi everywhere. Of course, I got some. Actually, they had everything under the sun. I enjoyed just walking around and checking-it all out. What really caught my eye were these little hedgehogs made out of some kind of dried plant material. Sooo cute. The question is: how am I gonna’ get a bunch home as gifts for y’all?
I know school started at DeLaveaga on Wednesday. All morning, I kept imagining all the kids and families arriving, finding their new classes. I could feel that totally contagious excitement that’s in the air in those first days. Last night, I dreamed about teaching and woke up feeling a little lost. I miss my Dos Alas and DeLaveaga community but know that I’m thinking of you all and wishing you a great start to the school year. I’ll come and visit as soon as I get back.
I think it’s time to pureé the sweet potato soup I’ve got simmering on the stove, so I’ll sign off for now with a big hug!
Lots of love,
Kathleen
PS: I just can’t go without thanking everyone for their thoughts, prayers, notes and interest in my healing adventure. I am strengthened by your love and care. I also want to send a special thank you to the Carmelite Sisters who are following my progress and praying for me even though we’ve never met! Bless you!

Other

Guten Tag, Freundin! (Good day, friends!)

Yeah, I’m becoming really fluent in German—ha! The one phrase I’ve mastered is: Entushuldigungse which means “Excuse me” or “I’m sorry”. The phrase that would come in more handy, but I can’t seem to remember for the life of me, is: Ich vertsche nicht which means “I don’t understand.” I guess being half German explains why everyone starts talking a mile a minute to me in German. For some silly reason, I think if I listen hard enough I’ll understand but when they come to the end of their long discourse, all I can do is smile sheepishly and say, “Ich spreche kein Deutsch” (I don’t speak German.) Oh, well, I’m listening to my language tapes and the doctor’s wife and receptionist were surprised to hear me say, “Auf Wiedersehen” when I left my appointment yesterday. They both laughed and one even said, “Super!” which of course took away some of the sting of that being all I could remember to say after listening to two lessons of German and practicing lots more phrases than “good-bye”.

So, yesterday: Phew! What a day! I set my alarm early and rode my bicycle to the swimming pool to pump up those ever-naughty weins and came home for a quick breakfast (and no liquids, this time!) and then hopped on my bike confident that I could find the clinic within half hour. Well, now I know that once I enter the humongous English Garden park all I do is stay on the main road that is reserved for the buses. It’s basically a straight shot from my apartment to the clinic. I get to ride through acres and acres of the greenest grass and trees and across the bridge that leads to the neighborhood where the clinic is.

But, yesterday morning was another story. I second-guessed myself, got all turned around, took a path and got lost. I accosted a man waiting at a bus stop and even after he told me he didn’t speak English I still thrust my map in his face and pointed where I needed to go. He shook his head and made hand gestures that I should go over to the beer garden and ask someone. Well, even in Munich, I know that the Beer Garden is not open at 9:30 am. 9:30! That was the time of my appointment. I was late for my first treatment. I knew that wasn’t going to go over well. I got on my bike and continued riding in the wrong direction. Finally, I stopped and called the clinic and gratefully, the receptionist laughed when I said I was lost in the English Garden. I suspect I’m not the first. Finally, while looking at the map yet again, a nice man stopped and gave me directions in English. I told him that he saved my life and he laughed, but in some regards, it’s only a bit of an exaggeration…

I made it to the clinic and instead of having to stand in the corner for my tardiness, I was received warmly. The nurse prepared me and the doctor came in. He was in good spirits until the first try resulted in the same frustrating end: the vein starting giving blood and then shut down. He seems thoroughly perplexed and frustrated and said that this is the strangest case and that he’s never seen anything like it. (Oh, great.) But, the second try did work and he left the room shaking his head and muttering, “Well, for now the blood flows…” and I lay there thanking all my guardian angels and half-holding my breath that my vein would continue to cooperate. It did. In fact, somewhere towards the end of my 10 rounds (fifteen minutes each) of having the blood first pumped out of my vein and into a machine that filters out what the lab needs in order to make my vaccine and to multiply (I think) my Natural Killer Cells (those cells in our body that attack the bad guys) and then returns the remainder of my blood, I dozed off. The nurse woke me up to say that my vein had closed down again and to pump my fists. Luckily, that did the trick!

After the blood filtering, the doctor’s wife used the same IV to let my first round of dendritic cells slowly drip into my body. The dendritic cells are supposed to “educate” my Killer Cells (sounds like such a “surfer” thing to say, “Hey, dude, those are some killer cells you got there!) for better tumor antigen recognition (my dictionary on the computer defines antigens as: a toxin or other foreign substance that induces an immune response in the body, esp. the production of antibodies). Jeez, this is getting technical. I understand what my treatment consists of and the concept behind it when Dr. Kübler explains it to me (more or less) and draws nice little diagrams to show how it works, but I wish I could explain the whole process better to you. Before I left, Frau Kübler assured me that I wouldn’t feel any side effects from this treatment, that those would come in a couple weeks when I got my first vaccine shot, and that she’d warn me before they happened.

But, as I was leaving, I noticed a sharp pain where my remaining ovary (and cyst) are and discounted it as possibly being pre-menstrual cramps. I rode my bike home (without getting lost) and ate a big lunch. Since the pain was starting to get stronger, I decided to try and lie down and see if a nap would take care of things. Instead, the pain just intensified and seemed to spread through my abdomen. With embarrassment, I emailed Dr. Kübler to just check in about the worsening pain and remind him that I am due for an utlrasound to check on the cyst on my ovary. When I lied down again, my legs started to ache, the pain in my abdomen was spreading, and I felt more and more nauseous by the minute. I started to get the chills. It all was a little too reminiscent of the symptoms I had in February when the tumor in my abdomen “blew-up”. After another hour, I tried calling the clinic but there was no answer or answering machine. This time, I left a more frantic email message for Dr. Kübler, while trying to suppress images of having to figure out how the German emergency medical system works in case I actually was having a repeat of what happened with my last ovarian cyst…You can imagine.

Luckily for me, but probably not for her, a poetry friend from Santa Cruz, Angelica, who is German and home visiting family and friends, showed up to share the vegetable soup I had made the night before. We had planned the get-together while I was feeling fine just a few hours earlier. She sat with me and listened to all my mounting anxiety about being afraid I was going to have to fly home, have another surgery, and not get to have this treatment after all. She stayed really calm and tried to console me and help me figure out next steps. She also suggested that even though Frau Kübler said I wouldn’t have side effects from the treatment it seemed like a likely explanation. I told her that early in my diagnosis I swore I would not be the kind of cancer patient that worried that every little ache and pain was the cancer returning; but I am humbled again. I see that it’s very hard not to jump ahead and start imagining worse case scenarios–especially when the pain is so acute.

After another hour, mom called and so I went and checked email again. Fortunately, there were two messages from the doc. He said not to panic (WHO’S PANICKING?) that my reaction was normal and in fact, a good sign because it meant that the dendritic cells were actually working and that the tumor cells were lysating—being destroyed and metabolized back into the blood stream. He said that the acute symptoms only last for several hours and not to worry that I was having a relapse. And, that we’d check my abdomen “in due time”.

Ahhh….I instantly started to feel better. Angelica had suggested I take an Advil about half an hour earlier, so with the comforting news from the doctor and the pain medication starting to kick-in, I stopped feeling like a wild animal pacing in a tiny cell (a cell of my own worst imaginings!) and she and I ended up having a lovely evening, getting to know each other better. In fact, she has invited me to join her and a friend to go to a museum this afternoon and tomorrow she’s taking me to the village she grew up in for their annual wine festival this weekend—complete with Polka bands! (It seems that there are no WiFi cafes in her little village, so I won’t be taking my laptop and will be out of computer contact until next week.)

I woke up briefly a couple of times during the night and when I realized that I wasn’t in pain, I felt such an euphoria. And I feel absolutely fine today! Crazy.

Once again and always, I feel so taken care of. Even in the hardest moments, an angel appears to encourage and comfort me and then invites me on some true Bavarian adventures! I won’t lie and say “Cancer is fun;” but, I do constantly marvel at all the incredible people I’ve met and extraordinary experiences I’ve had since my life took such a radical turn.
Well, it’s time to get ready and see if I can find my way downtown (to the most crowded and touristy part of Munich) to meet Angelica and her friend, Frank. Wish me luck and really: thank you for making me so lucky!

I love you all!
Kathleen

Health

Dear Friends,
I am back in “blogland” and promise to update more often. I’m going to try and keep this short but hit the major points since I last wrote: honeymoon and return to clinic, and diagnosis results.
Italy was fantastic in every way: the incredible art and architecture, the ancient ruins, the breathtaking countryside with its olive groves, vineyards, and fields of sunflowers, the friendly and boisterous people, and of course, the delectable cuisine—of which, I tried to taste almost every thing. The agritourism farm houses we stayed in were gorgeous and rural and hosted by very sweet people. We met other travelers and yet felt like we had a lot of privacy, too. We also had a rental car for most of our three weeks so we did little road trips to different towns and sights almost every day. Howard was an incredible tour guide and chauffer. He really had a knack for driving in Italy—which I have to say was a bit stressful and often comical, as we circled around and around the turn-abouts until we finally figured out which exit we were supposed to take. Boy, did that confuse the Italians!
We returned to Munich Monday morning via an overnight train from Rome. We had a budget sleeper car, which was amazingly comfortable. I was afraid I wouldn’t sleep at all; but, on the contrary, I felt like I was being rocked all night. I kinda’ loved it. I had my first appointment at the clinic on Tuesday. The short of it is: SUCCESS!!! The doctor took my blood and after the right arm did not cooperate, he shook his head and said that it didn’t look hopeful BUT then the vessels in my left arm did stay open! I held my breath for next 4 hours while a machine filtered a gallon of my blood and then returned to my body what the lab didn’t need. Since I had been really trying to help my veins by hydrating all morning, 15 minutes into the treatment, I had to go to the bathroom. Frau Kübler (the doc’s wife and nurse assistant) said that she would have to disconnect me from the machine and that if the needle in my arm got jiggled at all, it probably wouldn’t work again that day. So, I waited another hour to visit the toilet, until I felt like I would explode. Luckily, with Howard’s help, the needle must not have gotten jostled ‘cuz it worked again when she re-hooked me up. Phew! Anyway, the procedure was pretty painless and I cried with relief to find it working.
We returned on Thurs to get the diagnosis, which pleasantly surprised the doctor and us: my tumor cell counts are not too bad. The goal is to get the dozen different things he checks for in the blood below 500 parts per million. Higher than 500 and you’re at risk for metastasis. I’m not sure what the highest numbers are but I’ve heard they can be in the several thousands. Mine were between 600-900—below 1,000 is actually a pretty good place!!! I’m so thrilled, as you can imagine. I was pretty worried that they’d be really high with all the tumor activity I’ve had and with all the operations (which according to Dr. Kübler increase metastasis). The doctor seemed genuinely pleased and optimistic–which is not something I take lightly from him! He said that he thinks my attitude and behavior and even the Protocel all probably contributed to me being in such a good state considering how serious my kind of cancer is. He also said that it was a prudent choice not to have done chemo or radiation since it showed up in the blood analysis that I have some kind of enzyme (or something) that blocks those treatments. Instead of those chemicals and procedures attacking the cancer cells they, in fact, would have destroyed my Natural Killer Cells (the immune system’s weapons against disease).
But what I put at the TOP of my healing list is all the prayers and love and food and cards and EVERYTHING that you all have sent my way in the last two years! I will never be able to thank you enough!
So, I start treatment on Tuesday. One day a week for 10 weeks. Again, for four hours at a time, I will be hooked up to that machine having blood taken, filtered, and returned so that a new batch can be examined to see how I am progressing, and to send to the lab to have my next dose prepared in vitro. I will also be getting some kind of vaccine that is supposed to give me flu-like symptoms within a few hours that last about a day. This vaccine is supposed to “kick-start” my immune system into action to attack the cancer cells. At another time, I will write in more detail about what this treatment is about—as I rudimentarily understand it…
Sadly, Howard left for the US today. He almost got bumped for a free intercontinental ticket and but then they didn’t need his seat afterall. Shucks! That would have really come in handy. It was very hard to say good-bye to him. We’ve been virtually inseparable for the last month and have had a great time together. I also feel more afraid about being in this new country than I expected. I tried to console myself by asking how much scarier could it be than all the operations and unknowns we’ve faced since my diagnosis but then I realized that it was always “we” facing those: Howard ever by my side. Now, I get to experience on it my own. That’s a whole different story…
But of course, I’m not alone. Like Howard, all of you are in my heart and all I have to do is think of you and the room fills with so much love and support. I continue to feel so fortunate in every way. One of the last huge blessings I’ll share is that my friend Jamy connected me with her friends Silke and Debra who have generously set me up in their gorgeous apartment, complete with bicycle, internet, and cell phone to use in a very nice neighborhood in Munich! I can walk or bike ride to the clinic and am near really wonderful little organic shops. There’s a beautiful and expansive park with a river flowing through it, a lake, even a Chinese Pagoda and Beer Garden just five minutes from my front door! I really can’t believe it!
OK, I tried to be brief but that’s what I (and you) get for me waiting so long to write. I will write more regularly now that I have internet access and a home-base.
I love you all so much. Thank you for all your well-wishes, prayers, and thoughts. Keep them coming: they’re working! I’ll be home and cured before you know it!
Kathleen

Health

Hi, all! Just a quick note to say that we are having a molto benne time here in Italy! The art, architecture, landscape, FOOD, and people are paradise on earth! I am eating and sleeping and swimming and trying to not worry too much about how things are going to work out in Munich…I feel comforted by all your thoughts and prayers and have heard that it has been hard to log on to the blog. Sorry about that. You can email me at katflowers@cruzio.com. The whole internet cafe thing has me a bit put off but we will have free access in our hotel in Rome next week and I will respond then. We send our love and our gratitude and are eating lots of watermelon and coconut gelato for you all!

Kathleen and Howard

Health

July 21, 2007

Welcome back to the blog! Thank you so much for checking in again. It feels like a lifetime since I last communicated. So much has happened; namely: a cyst was detected on my left ovary in a CT scan taken in May. Of course, this was a big and upsetting surprise so soon after my operation in March. It threw me into a kind of panic I had not experienced before. For the first time, I felt totally afraid that this disease was getting the upper hand. Luckily, Mudita, my acupuncturist, “Healing Angel”, and extraordinary friend during all this cancer stuff found out about a doctor in Munich, Germany who is having incredible success treating cancer. After much research, soul-searching, and sending of a blood sample, it was agreed that I should go and see what Dr. Kübler can do for me. During this time, I also had to make the excruciatingly difficult decision to ask for a Medical Leave of Absence from teaching next year. My request was accepted and I went to work finishing up the school year, savoring every moment with the children, packing up my classroom and finishing paperwork. As soon as all that was “dusted-off”, Howard and I realized we had 3 weeks to plan and prepare for our wedding and honeymoon. What a tremendously busy and I must admit, stressful time it has been! But, our small wedding at the St. John Coltrane African Orthodox Church in San Francisco on 7/7/07 was everything we had hoped it would be and better. We only wish the church was bigger so we could have invited everyone we love. Next stop, Munich, Germany!

After leaving the San Francisco Airport Tuesday morning, July 17, and then being delayed for five hours in Philadelphia, to fix a busted air conditioning system, Howard and I finally arrived in Munich Wednesday afternoon. From checking the web for weather, we were expecting rainy weather but were glad to haul our bags on to the subway and through the city in sunny, warm weather. We had made a previous plan to meet up with a couple of neighbor friends of my good friend Jamy, who live in New York City during the school year but spend the summers in München (Munich). Debra and Silke rolled up in front of our hotel just as we did. After taking quick showers, we met them at an Italian sidewalk café. The nights stay warm, so we sat outside in t-shirts eating pizza and salad and trying the local Bavarian specialty of fresh apple cider mixed with mineral water. These two lovely women seemed so familiar to Howard and me. We laughed and got to know one another and they shared possible housing leads they’d found for me. Silke, who grew up in München, also gave me the numbers of a few of her good pals that are willing to befriend me while I’m here. After giving us a quick tour of our immediate surroundings and showing us how to walk to the clinic in the morning, I found it hard to say good-bye to them. The next day they left for a holiday in Italy and will have returned to New York City by the time we return from our honeymoon. I so hope our paths will cross again soon.
After staying up packing and tying up loose ends until 2 am the night before our departure and sleeping little on the overnight flight, Howard and I both crashed hard that first night. Unfortunately, we both also awoke before daylight, tossing and turning in the unaccustomed heat, our minds swirling with questions about the long-awaited appointment with Dr. Kubler in the morning.
From our hotel, it was only a 15 minute walk to the stunning, three hundred year old, three story building where he and his wife run this alternative cancer clinic. The doctor greeted us warmly but as we had been warned before coming, only invited me into his office to discuss my case. Howard had to stay in the waiting room. After friendly inquiry about our trip, he quickly became serious, saying that urachal cancer is very rare but that he has treated it before. I said that was great, and he snapped that it wasn’t “great” at all, that it’s a very serious type of cancer and being a human being after all, my case made him very sad. He said that the cells that form urachal cancer are very intelligent and are very good at avoiding most kinds of treatment. To make matters worse, it is his belief that every time we do intervene to try and kill them, they became smarter at defending themselves. The third strike against my case is that surgery not only seems to strengthen and spread the disease, it also creates scar tissue which creates a barrier that the Natural Killer Cells (NKC) find difficult to penetrate. In addition, he said that it is fairly easy for the body to attack tumor cells in the bloodstream but the lymph nodes are another matter. The outer layer of the lymph nodes is very difficult for the NKC to penetrate.
After giving me all this background on urachal cancer, he went on to say that he would not have asked me to come to the clinic if he did not think there was a chance of helping me. He promised to do his very best and to remember that only the Lord knows when and if we’ll be cured—and that sometimes, He doesn’t even know for sure since we humans are so often meddling in the process. Dr. Kübler then went on to draw diagrams and explain in detail the premise of his treatment and how it works. As described by the women who I talked to that have or are being treated by him, I found his explanations to be very clear. He spoke articulately and thoughtfully and as promised, he seems quite brilliant.
He asked me what treatments or medications I have been doing or taking. He hadn’t heard of Protocel and asked me to bring information to my next appointment. When I explained the idea behind how it works, he said he understood the strategy behind it but was curious to see what ingredients were being used in the formula. Then, I was whisked upstairs to an immaculate, white room where I met Frau Kübler, his wife, who began the process of getting me prepared to give my first blood sample. Howard was invited into the room to stand by my side while the doctor inserted the first needle. Everything seemed to be working out at first. The doctor said that my blood looked good, nice color, it was flowing easily, good pressure. Then, the machine starting acting up. Frau Kübler couldn’t make it stop beeping. They both assured me that it had nothing to do with me and fussed with it until they got it to work. But then, my “weins and wessels” (veins and vessels, said with a German accent. Both of them speak excellent English, but constantly mispronounce these two important words) stopped cooperating. The blood would flow well initially and then all of a sudden would stop.
They turned off the machine and took the needle out and tried inserting it in a different place in my arm. Same reaction. This is when Howard was asked to wait outside. The doctor became very concerned and tried another location in my other arm. He couldn’t even get the blood to start flowing there. At this point, he became very agitated, and started pacing and exclaiming that something was very wrong, that he had never seen such a thing before. He said it was like my veins were damaged, so brittle that they collapse as soon as they are touched. He presumed it was “this Protocel” and was angry that in all the communication and pages of medical documents I had shared with him, this pertinent bit of information had been left out. I apologized and lied there breathing deeply, trying to calm myself. Howard said that he could hear from the chair outside the room how extremely perplexed and frustrated both the doctor and his wife were by my situation and began to fear that they were going to say they couldn’t treat me.
Then all of a sudden, their attitude changed. They calmed down and Dr. Kübler began to hypothesize about what was making my blood do this and how to proceed. He said that we could only presume that it was a reaction to the Protocel but that cancer cells can also damage the blood, the “wessels and weins” (boy, did I have a hard time controlling my nervous laughter every time they both used these terms—which was a lot!). So he took a blood sample to have analyzed in his lab to make sure there wasn’t something wrong with the blood itself and so he could better understand my unusual reactions to the needles. It seems that they can only collect the blood sample from my arms and since he’d tried in four or five different places on my arms already, it was time for me to leave and come back the next day to try again. At this point, the atmosphere had lightened considerably and I was able to joke that I promised I really was from this planet. Frau Kübler is a big fan of Harry Potter and said that she wished she had his magic wand to wave over me. She recommended that I do lots of arm exercises and drink 3 liters of water before my next appointment.
Howard and I left the clinic shaking our heads. Seems my propensity for being “a special case” has followed me all the way across the Atlantic Ocean! But, I was not ready to give up. I was not going to come all this way to be turned away so quickly. The fighter in me was ready to go “mano o mano” with the good doctor.
To make a very long story short-er, I swam twice and walked a ton, dranks lots of water and showed up for my appointment the next morning. I gave the doctor my bottle of Protocel and the information we’d printed about it from the web. He studied it carefully and talked about how acidic the formula is and how it could very well be effecting my “wein” walls. He also showed me the analysis from my blood sample and said that all my ranges were either fine or in the tolerable area. Thus, my blood was not necessarily the culprit in this mystery. He also said that since my doctors in the US have nothing to offer me but surgery to remove tumors once they’ve formed, he didn’t blame me for taking matters into my own hands and trying any miracle cure that sounded good. He also said that we can’t be sure–perhaps the Protocel has actually been a factor in keeping me alive and so healthy up to now.
Then we went back upstairs and I was instructed to bathe my arms for five minutes in a basin of very hot water so as to help the “weins” open up. Afterwards, he tried twice again to take my blood but without success. Both he and his wife urged me not to despair and he recommended that Howard and I go on our Italian honeymoon and have the best time ever. During that time, he suggested that I quit taking the Protocel. We made an appointment for three weeks in the future, August 14, to return and try again. Howard and I left the clinic shaking our heads again at the unpredictable twists and turns this healing path keeps offering us.
As we walked back to our hotel, I told Howard that instead of feeling afraid and anxious about what had happened at the clinic, I felt inexpiably giddy. Howard suggested that even though we don’t know whether I’m going to be able to get this treatment or not, at least we finally know that we’re going to Italy for three weeks! Those plans have been so up in the air for several months. I also refuse to accept that I won’t be able to get be helped by Dr. Kübler but, if that is the case, then I trust that there’s some better treatment out there waiting for me. What else am I to believe?
On a metaphysical aside, I drove all the way to Ontario two days before leaving on our trip to consult a Vedic Astrologer about my health condition and future. I’ve never been that interested in getting a formal reading (especially since I’ve got the world’s best astrologer in my friend Jane who continually and generously updates me on my chart) but another friend recommended this Bombay native who has been practicing this ancient Indian science for 40 years and who holds a very auspicious title in these matters. He not only read this friend’s chart but also did a healing puja (ritual) related to the information found in her chart. I couldn’t get over how different she looked and acted and she couldn’t stop relating how completely different and better she felt. I didn’t act immediately on her recommendation to see him, but found that it kept returning as a possible way to look at the major changes and uncertainties that lie ahead in my life in the coming months. Anyway, the pertinent information—to this story—that he gave me was that he could see in chart that my health condition had been very serious and difficult for the past two years but that it would be greatly improving in at the end of October. I had told him that I had cancer but I hadn’t said anything about when I was diagnosed two years ago or that I was heading off to a clinic in Germany or that my treatment was scheduled to last until the end of October. He also consulted my chart several times to be sure, and then said to the best of his knowledge, I am to live a long life and that the cancer will not cause my death. Very nice things to hear, certainly! And they do resonate with my own feelings about this disease and my destiny.
So, today is Saturday. We’ve only been here three days but it already feels like a lifetime. Both Howard and I love München, with its incredible architecture, parks, the emerald green and surfable River Isar, and outside cafes. We’re looking forward to returning in three weeks but now I must go upstairs and wake him so that we can pack and get to the train station. Today, we travel over the Alps and should arrive in Florence, Italy at 8 o’clock this evening—ready to consume big bowls of pasta and maybe even a small glass of wine! Tomorrow, we pick up our rental car and drive to our Agriturismo farm stay in a small town in Tuscany. The following weekend, we meet my good friend Diane in Florence for a long weekend of sightseeing and eating. Then we have another week in a farmhouse in Umbria, followed by a week in Rome. On the 13th of August, we’ll take the train back to München, and hope that all the rubber-ball-in-my-hands-pumping and swimming I plan to do while in Italy in combination with laying off the Protocel will have sufficiently helped my “weins and wessels” so that Dr. Kübler can finally get the blood sample he needs and I may be treated at his clinic.
However, I am not looking forward to August 17—which I know will arrive too quicky and is when Howard is scheduled to fly back home. It has been so wonderful and necessary to be here in Germany with him. I can’t imagine trying to figure out all these new things by myself. Not only has it been a big help that he studied German in middle school—and remembers a lot of it, but he’s also a fabulous map-reader and all around fantastic traveling partner! Not to mention, my sweet, sweet husband!
OK, bast ya! You deserve a medal for reading all this. I’ll try to be more succinct in the future or write more often. I do have a handy, new laptop but realize how spoiled I’ve been having internet connection at my fingertips at home. I’ve still got to figure out the whole internet café situation, so please be patient. I’ll try and write again from Italy once or twice but will surely let you all know how my appointment with Dr. K goes when I return München.
Hugs and kisses and love to you all!
Kathleen

Health

Hi “kids”, I was so happy to hear that you had a good trip. So glad you still have a great sense of humor after the “blood letting” non-experience. Let me know if you’re checking e-mail so I can correspond to you there. Is there anyway you can contact the Protocel people and see if they have any experience with your problem? Let me know if I can help from this end. Enjoy your time in Italy. Love, Mom dianeohearn@comcast.net

Health