May 16, 2009. R 'n R
Shoyei and I drove to San Diego, a six and a half hour trip, for a few days of R 'n R.

The first time I heard the term R 'n R my college roommate, Hillary, was flying to Hawaii to meet up with her high school sweetheart who was on a government sponsored break from the war in Vietnam. I remember wondering at the time how he would ever be able to go back into the jungle, into the horror. They wrote to each other every day of our freshman year. Once, a week passed with no letter from Michael. Then finally a letter arrived in a Red Cross envelope. Hillary tore into it, and sighed with relief - his wound was not serious. I later met her friend. He had become a heroine addict, a little habit he picked up on the job. I had become a war protester, something I picked up on campus. But I divert.

We begin our trip with a stop at Dr. Kato's office for my monthly blood check. I tell Dr. Kato I have researched Zometa and decided not to take it for now. I had been scheduled for an infusion of Zometa today. It has so many serious side affects and there are questions about the wisdom of "building" bone artificially. If I continue to tolerate the Femara, which I'm scheduled to be on for five years, we will keep an eye on my bones with an annual density test. In the meantime I am studying the best calcium foods and natural supplements. I am learning to eat for healthy cell defense.

The lab tech draws my blood after several minutes of fumbling with a big needle in the wrong vein before switching to a smaller needle in the better vein. It is the most painful blood draw I have had. I whisper to Dr. Kato's nurse on the way out to make a note on my file that she, Carla, will personally draw my blood. I've come to know her touch to be deft and painless. I whisper so as not to hurt the kind, but bumbling technician. I've been grumbling to myself about my port scar which still itches and irritates but now I think back gratefully that I was spared this pain by having it. I take two Ibuprofen
and massage my aching arm.

We continue on our journey. Rest and Relaxation. To be refreshed to return to the battles of life. A few days to do what we want or nothing at all is indeed refreshing. We have both been through the battle. I am praying I won't have to return to the jungle and horror of Cancer. My "punch" biopsy is scheduled for June 8th.

The still waters of the marina remind me to "be still and know" that He is God. I once had a vision of myself laying on my belly high on a bluff overlooking a marina. And there I saw a small moored skiff. There was a girl lying on her back on the floor of the boat feeling the gentle rocking of the water. It was me. Aptly named we are sheltered here for a few days from the maelstrom of life: