Sugar

About two months ago, I had an appointment with my medical oncologist.  This particular doctor looks like a grown up version of Harry Potter.  He grew up in San Luis and his sisters and oldest brother went to SSA and the Abbey.  In fact, one of my friends had a massive crush on his brother when we were in middle school.  And then to further my fifty layers of friendship in a small world, I knew one of his younger brothers from my years at Upward Bound in Alamosa.  Taking my shirt off for this man is kind of weird.  Yeah, he’s a doctor, but he’s also Camille and Theresa’s little brother.  But moving beyond all that, he is the guy that’s managing my care for the next ten years, maybe the rest of my life.  And there is no disputing his brilliance.

In the last few weeks, two people I know have been diagnosed with breast cancer.  One of these people seriously considered not doing the prescribed treatment–surgery, radiation, hormone therapy.  I listened to her reasons both with understanding and alarm.  I understand being scared and putting my trust in the hands of medical professionals, when my life experiences have not given me great reason to trust doctors.  However, I also know someone who did not do the prescribed treatment and she’s dead now.  It’s a personal choice, I suppose, but current treatment for breast cancer is highly effective.  In the same breath, I admit that I’m not following the hormone therapy regime.

My brilliant, Harry Potter look alike doctor, prescribed  this drug called Tamoxifen.  I took it for awhile.  I have spent every single day for three years struggling with Shayne to take his antipsychotic medicine.  I wondered why it was so hard to take the damn pill at the same time everyday.  But I had a little more understanding with the Tamoxifen.  I didn’t really want to take it in the first place, and it gave me severe mood swings.  I work with small children.  I can’t have mood swings.  On any given day, I want to strangle at least one child, so being on a drug that makes me angry and weepy and delirious in the span of six minutes is not good for my career.  My cancer was estrogen positive which means that estrogen had a hand in feeding my cancer. When I had the hysterectomy in February, I thought that my estrogen source would be removed and I wouldn’t have to take the drugs anymore.

My radiology oncologist was in a panic about this because he said that a hysterectomy only improved my chances slightly and that I should still be taking whatever drug menopausal cancer patients get.  I told him that I was willing to take the risk and that if the cancer came back, I promised not to have regrets.  He kind of threw up his hands and wrote a long note to my medical oncologist about my stubbornness.  But Dr. Pacheco actually agreed with me!  He said that because my reoccurrence rate was low, he felt like I could continue to be healthy if I continued my check ups, controlled my diet and exercised.  He actually wrote out a prescription which I have posted on the fridge–Eat vegetables, meat, nuts, seeds, some fruit, a little starch and NO sugar.  No honey.  No agave.  No substitutes.  NO sugar.   He also told me to exercise as hard as I can three days on, one day off.  He recommended Crossfit.    And to fast for sixteen hours once a week.

I’ve not been back to Crossfire, I mean Crossfit,  but I’m exercising and I’ve cut out sugar.  It really hasn’t been so bad except for two things.  Beverages and pizza.  I don’t drink coffee, but I was used to drinking hot apple cider or white hot chocolate in the mornings, or a horchata or a lemonade in the afternoons.  I visited my favorite barista a couple of times a week and I’d stop off at Starbucks in Pueblo or Springs, and I was a regular Happy Hour costumer at Sonic.  Even when I drank tea at home, I’d dump in a large dollop of honey.  But I’ve gotten accustomed to drinking tea at home, without honey or just warming up my water if I want something hot in the morning.  Sometimes I still crave the afternoon pick me up of a sugary drink.  I look in the refrigerator and realize my choices are water, or water.  But I’ve started to eat my piece of fruit then, and that has helped a lot.    I still stop off and see Katie at the coffee shop on the weekend, mostly because I love her and enjoy catching up.  She fixes me an herbal tea without sugar.  I guess I’m saving a ton of money without the morning drink.  So that leaves pizza. At first I tried to pretend that pizza doesn’t have sugar in it.  I have eaten it, but my repressed Catholic guilt came screaming back. I walked into the lounge at school this week and there was a sausage pizza from Dominos.  Yesterday in the teacher kitchen there was a box of gourmet vegetarian pizza by the microwave.  I didn’t eat any either time.   It’s not realistic to think I will go the rest of my life without pizza, but I’m committed to trying life without  sugar.  Except on my birthday.  I’m having pizza when I turn 50.  To all my friends who are planning my surprise party, make sure there is pizza there.  And not the “healthy” kind.  I want it loaded–Chicago style with lots of sausage.

Teachers survive on sugar.  There is chocolate at staff meetings.  Kids come around with birthday cookies and cupcakes almost everyday.  Most teachers have jars of M&M’s and Skittles on their desks.  I even have a cache of Jolly Ranchers that I pass out to kids.  And there is the frequent FAC.  But candy doesn’t mean that much to me, and I’ve never been much of a drinker, so that’s not been too bad.  But, I’ve discovered that there is sugar in everything.  Even frozen vegetables in my freezer have sugar in the ingredients.  So eating takes way more prep than I am used to. If I forget my lunch, or don’t give myself time for breakfast, I can’t just run to Taco Bell  or Sonic like in my old life.  I really have to think about food. I’m grateful that my boyfriend grows such a bountiful garden.  I’m surviving on his homemade soups and canned veggies and his applesauce has become my big staple.   But the big pay off is,  I  have more energy and the low level depression I’ve been fighting seems to have disappeared.  I find myself thinking about doing a 5k to ring in the new year.  I feel strong and healthy enough.  All in all, not so bad, for a chick who once considered starting a 12 step program for carb addiction.