Year of the Ox

This month, I get to celebrate the start of two new years. Lunar New Year is fast approaching, ushering in the Year of the Ox. Based on the lunar calendar, there are 12 animals to represent the different cycles of the Chinese zodiac. This year happens to be my third cycle since I was born in a Year of the Ox and will be turning 36 years old in June. The Vietnamese call this celebration 'Tet'.

On the Western calendar, the start of the New Year falls on Monday, January 26, 2009 — The Year of the Ox. (If you were born in 1913, 1925, 1937, 1949, 1961, 1973, 1985 or 1997 - you were born under the sign of the Ox like me.) Oxen folks are known for their patience and hard work, but we are also known for our stubbornness and our proneness to anger and passionate emotions. From a general description, "The Ox is one of the most patient signs in the Chinese zodiac, but when opposed your fierce temper comes to the fore — and woe to anyone who crosses you!" That fairly describes my personality and low tolerance for toxic people, so I have to accept the good with the bad.

On Tuesday, my dad, stepmom Co Nga, half-sister Diane, the twins and I all went to a Buddhist temple in Seattle as part of our preparations for Tet. This temple happens to house the photos of my deceased mother, aunt, and Co Nga's mother, all of which were brought there for the sake of prayer. It has been just over 12 years since my mom passed, and I realize that we lost her in 1996 right before the last cycle of the Ox in 1997. My aunt passed away from liver cancer a year after. Here we are in 2009, and I myself just lived through the second worst experience of my life (after losing my mom to her own battle with colon cancer). It has been said that when your zodiac cycle approaches, you are expected to have a very bad year, filled with misfortune. It seems counter-intuitive since one would think that your zodiac cycle should bring blessings and good luck. It seems to me that all the bad luck happens in the year before the cycle actually starts. I try not to be superstitious in all things, but my own history provides me with enough evidence to support this theory.

It has been many years since I've been to this temple. I was not exactly brought up as a practicing Buddhist, since my father grew up under the teachings of Buddhism and my mother was raised as a Catholic. The result was that my siblings and I were exposed to some of both, but not well-schooled in either. Therefore, visits to Buddhist temples or Roman Catholic churches never failed to inspire both awe and fascination. Buddhist temples, like churches, are solemn and quiet places of worship, yet unlike churches, your senses are overcome by the bright colors, shining gold sheen of statues, proffered fruit and foods, and intense aroma of burning incense upon entering a temple. We quietly took off our shoes and padded along the hardwood floors toward the altar, on which sat a magnificent golden statue of Buddha. The twins, not knowing anything, spun on their socks on the slippery floor and ran around the altar picking up items of interest like birds after shiny objects. Mortified, we all ran after them to ensure that things were put back in their proper places and that they didn't put anything in their mouths. It's hard to teach 2 year olds about the sanctity of a house of worship.

After lighting our own incense and offering prayers to Buddha, we proceeded to the prayer room where the photos of the dead were displayed. Two full walls lined with wallet-sized photos of many who have passed, about 20 cases of clementine oranges, and a donation box crowded the small anteroom. The twins copied our motions of bowing and praying, thinking it was a game of sorts. We were glad that they were at least behaving appropriately, even if they were just mimicking our movements. I gave them each a dollar to stuff into the donation box, which they did with surprising dutifulness. We then continued downstairs where several Buddhist nuns with shaved heads, dressed in drab grey garments and thin slippers, were busy cooking and wrapping traditional Tet foodstuffs for sale in fragrant banana leaves, plastic wrap and red twine. Although some of the scenes and scents were familiar to me, a part of me felt awkward since all this was not part of recent memory but of remembrances from childhood. A kindly nun approached us to take our order, and Spencer immediately hid behind my legs and said, "Mommy, I scared!" I think a bald head on a feminine figure confused him. Rowan, meantime, managed to get into their kitchen and almost knocked over a well-stacked pyramid of the wrapped cakes. The smells were aromatic and heady, and I suddenly felt a suffusion of cultural pride and belonging, and I was suddenly happy that my twins were here with me, even though they wreaked minor havoc in the temple.

On our way out with our bags of cakes, my stepmom and I stopped to get our fortunes. There was a bamboo canister filled with many thin sticks of bamboo, each of them numbered. One had to pray and then repeatedly shake the canister gently until a single bamboo stick fell out onto the floor. You then pick up the stick, read the number, and proceed to a shelf lined with fortune papers corresponding to your number. All the fortunes were in Vietnamese, some of it archaic, so I had my dad translate mine for me. Eerily, the fortune echoed many of my recent misfortunes but foretold of a better year to come if I was prepared to earn it. It essentially said that the past year has been a bad one and that I must accept the losses and move on. The new year will bring me good fortune in fall and winter, but I must endure some minor difficulties in spring and summer before any gains are realized. Financially and professionally, I will find benefit through hard work. If I have any legal proceedings, I am expected to have a good outcome. It also said that love may find me again, if I choose to embrace it. It said that I must ignore gossip and negative white noise from people who don't matter. Most importantly, it said that if I am suffering from ill health, I will experience a quick and full recovery. But I must exercise patience and extreme magnanimity for these good things to come to pass.

After the bad year last year, I am prepared to be more than patient and magnanimous in order to enjoy the blessings offered to me in the Year of the Ox!

Shake Off the Bad Crust of 2008!

We are finally in 2009! We are nearly a decade into the new millennium. I feel like I can shake off a bit of the bad crust of 2008 and start anew. Christmas came and went with the usual merriment and manic package-tearing by the kids, but it also yielded a bit of bittersweet gratitude for all the things that have come to pass in this year. I felt it intensely as I sat there in relatively good health after nearly succumbing to cancer and all of its attendant misfortunes. Many life lessons learned, although I am still working on mastering a few of them. School of hard knocks indeed. Seeing my kids, nephews, and little sister in a sort of ecstatic glee took me back to my own innocent childhood and made me all the more grateful that I am here to live again vicariously through them.

My heart is filled with unending gratitude for many who have treated me with so much kindness, but I feel the need to thank a few here for their most recent (or rather constant) thoughtfulness.

My sister, Nina. She has been a steadfast supporter during my illness, and has provided a place for me to rest during my treatment, countless nurturing meals, and my beautiful twin rings necklace. She went to Tiffany's and found a sterling silver necklace with two interlocked rings to symbolize my twin sons. Not a surprising gift from my sister, given her immense generosity, but it still humbled me and brought me to tears just for the sweet thought put into it. The best sister, ever!

My sister-in-law, Toni. My constant confidante and reliable supporter. She, my brother Zhivago, and my nephew Connor, have opened their home to me and the twins countless times to give us a safe haven. I am free to be as happy, sad or sick as I need to be under their roof, and they have been there to help me along in countless ways. Toni came with me to my divorce hearing to give me courage and moral support. She has done so much in so many little and big ways to offer me stability in a sea of chaos. Thanks for everything, sister!

My cousin, Carolyn. She has been up to visit me from the bay area three times since learning of my illness. She, too, lost her own mother to liver cancer. She most recently visited for Christmas and brightened up my world by laughing with me for a whole week. She treated me to a lovely high tea at the Queen Mary Tea Room on a snow-laden Christmas Eve. She had never seen so much snow in her whole life, and we had to arm her with a snow shovel on a few occasions just to get out of the driveway! She left with a cold, but hopefully a lot of fun memories too. Love ya, Carolyn!

My stepmom, Co Nga. She does so much for everyone, and she has been the number one person to take care of me and the twins for the past 6 months. From her healthful meals during my convalescence, to her sure-handed care of the twins while I was at treatment, and her constant ability to care for everyone even when she herself had her own health to look after. She is a stepmother and a friend to me. On Sunday, we'll be celebrating her birthday so that she can have at least one day to feel special and allow others to take care of her. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Co Nga. I love and appreciate you!

My beautiful friend, Phuong. My champion and advocate. She is an oncology nurse at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance. She has maintained a fierce vigilance and care over me even though she's not my own nurse. A mother of two, she gives so much of herself to so many and she is always fully present for each and every one of her friends. I am blessed to count myself among them. She's come with me to treatment, brought food over or shared meals with me when I needed it most. She has been nothing short of a guardian angel to me here on Earth. She is a New Year's Baby-- HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Your friendship is one of my greatest treasures. Much love to you.

My sweet friend, Kat. A decade and a half of friendship. She's seen me through some good and bad times, and has remained resilient for me. I've known her all of my adult life. Even with her own busy schedule as a teacher with two kids, she offered me a movie date with her free tickets that she could have used for herself and her husband, Minh, also my friend. We watched "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" for two blissful hours, drank a tankard of soda and shared a bushel of popcorn. The movie was solid and gave us food for thought. Can't remember when I was last in a movie theater before then. Next day, our kids had a play date and she made the best darn grilled cheese pesto sandwich I have ever had. Solid, solid friendship. Much love to you, girl.

If your name doesn't appear on this list, please don't think that I don't value your love and support. Many, many people have helped see me through this tough experience and I am grateful to you all, and I hope that I have somehow conveyed that to you so that you know the depths of my heartfelt thanks. My sincere hope is that this new year will bring us all many blessings and better fortune, which we are so desperately in need of. You better believe I prayed for Peace on Earth since it is in short supply everywhere you look. Times are hard, and they are expected to get harder, but I choose to hold fast to the people who remind me that life is worth living. Every inch of it, even the most difficult stretches. This past year, I have morphed into a new person owing to the multitude of scars on my body and an equal number of life lessons seared into my mind. This is the person who has emerged into 2009 with a new lease on life!

Two Wrongs Don't Make A Right

Sometimes we want so desperately to set things right, and in doing so we may be stirring up more trouble for ourselves. They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, right? It's hard to know where to draw the line when pursuing some sense of justice. We want others to understand how badly we've been wronged, but is continually bringing it up the right thing to do? Holding in our grief is not good either because we end up stewing over unresolved confrontations. Anger is poison, but resentment is when we swallow it. Letting bad people hide behind the shroud of polite tolerance is equally wrong. But whose job is it to teach bad people a lesson? Seeking justice is not the same as getting revenge because I believe the former can be achieved more benignly. I am working a little everyday to set things right, but I need to do it the right way.

I spoke before about trying with difficulty to forgive those who have wronged me. I held it in for so long that now I feel an implosion of emotions that I must sort out. Throughout this process, I have actually achieved greater overall calm. But I am still working on the cathartic exercises that will help me achieve true serenity. Peace of mind is precious to us all because we want to live relatively worry-free, to sleep well at night, to keep our integrity intact. Sometimes we are given burdens that seem almost impossible to bear, and yet unbelievably, even more weight is placed upon us. But what doesn't kill you will make you stronger, and I have never believed that more than now. Where my physical strength may have waned, my mind has gotten stronger in order to fill the deficit. In time, I will be restored to full health again and I will draw on that strength in order to raise my sons and go about my life with more purpose than before. I feel a sense of hope and possibility, but first I must call out those who didn't believe me, those who didn't believe in me, and those whose bad behavior towards me was simply unbelievable. But I will purge with care and caution so that I don't blur the line between seeking justice vs. revenge. As my friend LouAnn so wisely put it, "Remember when you are pointing a finger, there may be four fingers pointing right back at you."

Wish List vs. Action Items

The holidays are always a time of reflection, and this year the annual exercise is even more intense for me. Here I am, seven months after diagnosis with a better than could be hoped for outcome. Around Thanksgiving, I encouraged everyone to make a list of things they wanted or still hoped to accomplish if they knew their time in this life would be cut short. If you made a list for yourself, look through it again and determine which ones are wishes for things or events that you are simply waiting for. Then determine which things on that list can only be attained or achieved if you act on it. Therein lies the difference. So many times, we sit and dream about the things we want to happen to us, like winning the lottery, or finding true love, or getting a better job, or having more meaningful relationships with friends and family. But what are we doing towards making those things come true? Did you buy that lotto ticket? Are you putting yourself out there to find a relationship? Are you a positive employee who contributes meaningfully to your company or at least trying to find a career that better suits you? Are you loving and appreciating the people in your life as you should or are you waiting for them to love you first before reciprocating?

When I go to treatment, I see a few of the same smiling faces each time and witness many acts of kindness between nurses and patients, and among the patients themselves. They sometimes talk across the room to each other, tell jokes or stories, find humor in their situation, sincerely wish each other happy holidays, help each other open doors, push IV stands, or settle comfortably in the infusion chairs with blankets and pillows. You'd be surprised to hear how much laughter there is in that busy infusion room, despite each chair being occupied by a cancer patient. I realize that these cancer patients have discovered a little of life's meaning through this experience. That we all face separate battles in life, even if they fall under the same description. Each journey is unique and sometimes battles must be fought individually, but not necessarily alone. Along the way we can find allies who can provide company, comfort and hope. They can be total strangers or the people you know and love dearly.

I usually read a magazine and drink a cup of tea to pass the 3 hours of infusion. But sometimes I put the magazines down and just watch the other patients and try to read their life story in their faces or guess what kind of cancer they have. Other times, I sit and daydream about all the things I hope to accomplish or do with my kids once treatment is finally over. But then I stop and think about how I am actually going to get there without simply waiting on it. It's one thing to wish for something and quite another to do everything necessary to make it happen. So these days, when I make a wish, that wish is accompanied by a mini-list of action items that I need to do in order to make my wish come true. Some of us are lucky enough to have good things fall into our lap, but all of us must realize that we have to actively choose the right place to sit for that to happen. Whether or not you want to accept the idea, we are all the products of our choices in life. Sometimes we make bad choices or mistakes that land us in unpleasant or unhappy situations, but there is always a way out if we find a way to turn things around. Sometimes, it's a lot of work to pull yourself out of a hole that you've dug, but it's better than just lying down and letting yourself get buried. There's so much that you have control over, but it's also a form of taking control to cut your losses when things don't work out.

I wish to be done with cancer for good, I wish for my sons to have a safe and happy childhood, I wish things to be better for friends and family who are suffering poor health or misfortunes of their own. But beyond simply wishing for these things, I will do whatever I can and contribute as much as I am able in order to better my own lot in life as well as those for whom I love. Our health and happiness are inextricably linked, so when things are going good for you, please help others who are in a less fortunate place. It's all a part of finding allies, comfort and hope as I mentioned before.

Turn those wishes into action items to give them a better chance of coming true....

The Incredible Lightness of Being

The Incredible Lightness of Being. This phrase holds my mind captive. It's not to be confused with the book and movie called, "The Unbearable Lightness of Being." What the incredible lightness of being represents to me is a sudden, transient sensation of joy in the life, free from want or worry. A cataclysmic explosion of happiness and contentment that dissipates quickly, but leaves a singular sensation of life's sweetness distilled into a fleeting moment. Throughout this experience, I have been blessed with many such moments, and those are the ones I am throwing my concentration on so that I can harness the good energy derived from their enjoyment.

When worry keeps me up at night, I could look into the sleeping faces of my little boys and see peace and innocence. If only we could only borrow a bit of these precious qualities from our children, our adult lives might be better lived. I remember lying in the grass under my dad's immense cedar tree in the backyard and staring up at a cloud-free blue sky; warm October sunshine penetrating my skin and driving out the chill in my bones. For a few peaceful moments, the pain in my body simply didn't register. The clear sky seen through tangles of fragrant cedar branches while lying still on my back gave me a sensation of falling up into the universe. It's the same feeling I experienced while watching a meteor shower from my sleeping bag when was just a kid. I stared so long at the starry sky that I felt as if I was swirling up, up into the cosmos. I felt light as air and part of the bigger universe, no longer confined to my corner of the world. I've heard Spencer laughing in his sleep, and Rowan sighing very contentedly. It makes me wonder what 2-year olds dream about when they are sleeping.

Watching Rowan and Spencer laugh while running wildly through water fountains at Great Wolf Lodge, or bouncing maniacally at Jump Planet, or riding their Spider-Man trikes fast down the driveway at Ong Ngoai's (grandpa's) house makes me want to bottle the very essence of childhood joy. When was the last time you experienced that kind of sheer, unadulterated happiness yourself? Those who have children can live vicariously through them, but think hard on your own "lightness of being" and zero in on the moment it last happened for you. Is life a series of these cataclysmic moments of intense happiness strung together between episodes of dullness or tragedy? Instead of dwelling on all the events in our lives that bring us down, it might be possible to meditate only on those that have brought us perfect contentment in order to supply our soul with the food it needs to generate good energy. Just as we need to detoxify our bodies, we need to detoxify our minds of the negativity that serves only to waste space and time that could instead be filled with more joy. It's easier said than done when modern life stresses us out so much. But learning to purge anger, fear, worry, and hate from our hearts and minds is just as important as learning to take care of your bodily health.

One of the hardest things for me to do right now is to try to find forgiveness for those who have wronged me. I'm not talking about shaking hands and making up. I mean the true kind of forgiveness that only the heart can grant in order to replace anger and resentment with peace and serenity. There is plenty of anger there at those who have seriously let me down, fear of painful medical procedures that must be endured, worry over finances and bills, and hate of terrorists, bigots, racists, real-life pirates, stampeding shoppers, gun-toting gangsters at the malls. So much in life to weigh us down, making forgiveness more and more of a precious commodity. But forgive I must if I wish to be unencumbered of much of the negativity that helped feed my disease. For now, I can only work on it a little bit each day because it's hard to undo a lifetime's worth. In order to shift off some of the weight that held me down, I must concentrate on those moments of incredible lightness of being that made it possible for me to fall up into the sky.

The World Through Cancer Goggles

A brush with your own mortality tends to lend more focus and clarity to your world view. Cancer heightens our awareness of the life around us, and forces us to see people and things for who and what they are, both good and bad. It presents several contradictions in terms. Cancer patients become more kind, and yet more fierce too because our survival instincts kick in. We approach things more gently, but we also reserve the right to be assertive so that others hear our true voice. I have always been passive aggressive in dealing with unpleasant people in my life, but now I have even less tolerance for ridiculous or negative people who don't possess the capacity to shine any light into my life. When I stop to consider how many loved ones and kind friends I've lost to cancer, it makes me less inclined to spend any time tolerating those who detract from, rather than enhance, the quality of my life. Whether people fall out or are forced out from your life, it's your prerogative to vet each and every one of them. Cancer tends to help with the vetting process. Those who love you will put forth the effort, others will simply be absent.

Take a moment to count how many times cancer has crossed your path, either personally or through a loved one. Consider how you handled yourself in either scenario. We hear the word cancer so often, yet if it's not happening to us then it's easy to fall into a mode of fear, sympathy, action or inaction as suits our character. There are those who are sympathetic, but feel guilty that they can't do more to help, those who do too much as a means of coping with the diagnosis, and those who feel so fearful and awkward and don't know what to say, so they do nothing at all. Unfortunately, I have had too much experience in cancer care. Even when I didn't know what to say to a dying person, I have sat by their bedside in order to provide what company and comfort I could. I visited my friend Walter in the hospital when he had pancreatic cancer and simply let him tell me jokes or stories of his youth. He was a wonderful older gentleman who used to work as a door greeter at Target with me, and knowing that I got to spend some time with him before he passed keeps him in my heart. He had a roomful of people at his funeral who never once bothered to visit him while he was still alive.

I also spent some time with my friend Katalin before she, too, died of cancer. She hid her illness, so there was little time to thank her for her friendship. She could no longer speak audibly, but because she could still hear me, I made a point to tell her how good and kind she had always been to me. And of course, there was my mom. A mother's lifetime cut short, and a daughter's lifeline to the past that is forever severed. All I have left are a few stories of her girlhood in Vietnam, some photos and memories, and many unrealized dreams of her as a grandmother to my twin sons.

My beautiful friend Cherrymae found out this week that her father has a tumor in his lung, but he is staying strong for his family. She and her husband have been tremendously supportive of me during my illness, and to hear that they now have to face this news just breaks my heart. But just as they have been there for me, I pledge to support and comfort them as much as I am able. Also, I listened in disbelief this morning as my uncle recounted how my cousin lost his young wife to cancer just over a year ago. She was only 33 years old and had two miscarriages before they discovered that cancer was the reason she kept losing her babies. Although I only met her once, I feel blessed to have known her face and shared a meal with the woman whom my cousin loved so much.

There is much amiss in the world right now, but also much to be thankful for if we only dig deep. This year has undoubtedly been one of my worst, and so many of my friends and loved ones are suffering from a variety of illnesses or misfortunes themselves. Yet from every tragedy new hope emerges. My family has never been closer, and I know that we will always love and take care of each other in times of crisis. I love my sons more fiercely because the thought that I could have lost a lifetime with them still pinches my heart. So many of my true friends have come through for me, and I will forever be thankful to have seen their kind hearts and good character in action. No matter how often the visits, how small the gesture, how quick the phone call, how short the e-mail, every little bit of kindness is appreciated by the cancer patient. Consider how you would want to be treated if you had cancer, and think about who in your life will there for you if you do. Count me among those who will be there for you.

Make a List

As Thanksgiving approaches, what are you thankful for besides the anticipation of a turkey dinner? For all of us, our days are numbered-- we just don't know what that number is. So if you knew you only had 10 years left, what would you do with those years? What if it was only 5 years? If you had a "Bucket List", which 'to do' items would survive the cut if your time remaining was half of what you expected? Most of us ramble on in our daily routines of quiet desperation. We tolerate negative people in our lives because we never consider that we might choose to exclude them and be unencumbered of their bad energy. I started making a list of all the things I still want to do, especially with my kids. What does your list look like? Or do you assume there will always be enough time?

As I go another round of chemo, I recognize many faces from the last treatment. Most likely, these patients are on the same schedule so I will see them in succeeding weeks in the infusion room. Even though these familiar faces look tired, I know that each of them wants to be saved, and they will approach life much differently than before their diagnosis. Each cancer patient becomes just a little kinder, and yet more fierce too. We all sit in this infusion room together, each with a separate life, yet bound by this common experience. One patient is a favorite with the nurses. He cracks jokes and makes everyone laugh. Another seems timid and self-conscious about her wig. She speaks quietly and looks lost in her thoughts until her husband arrives with a hot cup of coffee for her. There's the man with a laptop, week after week, with no one accompanying him to treatment. Another man is snoring intensely in his corner chair, mouth open. We all pretend we don't hear it. We are all doing our time in treatment so that we can someday be finished and resume our lives, hopefully with the gratitude and energy to make it better than before.

Most of you will not ever have to experience this, so I hope that you choose to make the most of the time given to you. Be thankful for your health, your family, your true friends, a roof over your head, a hot meal to eat. Take time to nurture your dreams and make sure they come true. Fight for what you want out of life, even if it scares you to take the first step. There is a line from the play, "A Raisin in the Sun", that sums up all our fears and ambitions, "Please God, don't let my dreams die inside of me." In the week leading up to Thanksgiving, sit down and make your 10-year list and then make your 5-year list. It will help clarify your life priorities. Share that list with your family and friends when you all sit down to dinner together. Above all else, be thankful.