What Color is Your Therapy?

Where have all the hummingbirds gone?  Haven’t seen any for several days, and I even put out fresh food. Maybe they’re seduced by this warm weather we have (thumbing my nose at those of you buried under snow!) and believe spring has come.  Perhaps it has. My crocuses and spring cyclamen are blooming.  Not just up, but tricked out in their bright colors. A few really optimistic people have been riding around with their car tops down.

The Zap Count:  13 down, 20 to go.
Oooh, I like these numbers.  Almost half way, and they decrease much more rapidly than did the ones for chemotherapy.

No side effects yet that I can see, though some effects of chemotherapy seem to be hanging around.  I’ve lost all my eyelashes and most of my eyebrows, though, as you’ll see in the photos, my hair is coming back in.  That’s the conundrum: what’s the difference between eyebrow hair and head hair that one should fall out early and the other come back late?

The radiation routine continues as before — drive in, drive out (some day maybe they’ll have drive thru).  I keep trying to distinguish the technicians, but in their white lab coats and flat-ironed hair (some dark, some light), they look alike to me, and they don’t exhibit much personality in the short time I’m on the table.  Polite, yes, and certainly efficient.  But not a lot to hang a conversation on.  The most I’ve learned from them is that I don’t get to take my custom-molded back rest home with me when it’s all over.  Who’d have thought it — a radiation center that‘s ecologically conscious. They *recycle* the rests, deflating them when one patient leaves and reinflating them to suit the new, uh, customers.  So maybe in this realm, there are the 4 Rs — reduce, reuse, recycle for radiation.

On Thursday, I finally made connections with a few other patients.  There was a short backlog in the Fish room, since it’s the day a number of us see the doctor.  There was the woman about my age who comes and goes silently in her hat or headscarf.  We’re aware of each other passing through the rooms but have yet to speak.  The two older gentlemen were also there — the short one well-groomed and fully dressed, the tall scruffy one not at all bothered by the fluttering of the open back of his gown.

But on Thursday, there were two older women sitting in the chairs, looking eager for conversation, so I joined them.  The woman to my right was happy because this was her last week of treatment, and she was planning to celebrate that and her upcoming 80th birthday with a dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory.  She did not appear to be 80, but was a vibrant, energetic woman with many things left to accomplish in her life.  The woman to my left, however, looked every one of her 70-some years, and described how she drives herself 45 minutes each way every day because her husband had a stroke and can’t accompany her.  She complained that the radiation was upsetting her stomach, but was glad she was halfway through.  We all seem to be interested in the numbers.

This week I again saw Dr. R, who took a cursory look to see if there were any skin changes, and then fell into conversation with me. My husband had told me that he speaks Japanese, so I asked about that. Like my children, he is “hafu” (the term the Japanese use for mixed-race people).  His American father, like many soldiers, was stationed in Japan and brought home a Japanese wife. He asked to see photos of my children, out of that fascination we all have about identity and appearance, especially when searching for others like ourselves. Dr. R seems to be straddling a number of cultures.  Before he became a radiation oncologist, he was an engineer working for Exxon.

We talked briefly about the series of articles a couple weeks ago in the New York Times about the problems with radiation therapy.  The impact of the articles has led the American Society of Radiation Oncologists (ASRO) to look into the claims and work to reform practices and eliminate errors. Their current fact sheet helps put the issues into perspective and counteract the fears the Times has raised:  http://www.astro.org/PressRoom/NewsReleases/2010NewsReleases/documents/FactSheet.pdf

I’ve been going back to my earlier interest in the idea of healing vs. cure. A friend loaned me a book about healing with crystals, which also covers the use of color and “chakra energies” for maintaining health (Healing with Crystals and Chakra Energies, by Sue and Simon Lilly). These techniques are categorized in that area known as energy work, along with acupuncture, Reiki, and other approaches.  But as with Western medicine, understanding the dynamics of these modes involves a great deal of complexity.

In the pages of the book, I was hoping to find the magic crystal that would cure all my worries. Among them, there’s black tourmaline for grounding, protection, and to dispel negativity; obsidian for transformation; rose quartz to supply restful sleep; pink kunzite to remove emotional debris; yellow citrine to release fear and clear your thoughts; gold to repair damaged tissue (and maybe damaged bank accounts too?); verdelite to realign body structures; and turquoise to purify, bring joy, and boost the immune system. If I were to get all the stones with the potential to help, I’d need a pickup truck to haul them around.  When in doubt, though, amethyst seems to be the general, all-purpose crystal to rely on.  Rather like taking Tylenol for whatever ails you.

I was particularly interested in the information about color and its use for health.  I like pink, but have always begrudged it being the color assigned to girls from their moment of birth (*my* favorite color is blue!). Appending it to breast cancer only increased my dismay. It seemed that all women and their breasts were to be forever cast in pink.  But as my friend pointed out and the book confirmed, pink turns out to have been a wise choice since it’s a calming color that neutralizes negativity or destructive tendencies, and is a healing color, reducing the effects of disease and the fear it causes.  Deeper shades of pink  have apparently been used in prison cells and police stations to diminish chaos and violence.  So think pink — it’s not just for women anymore.

Other colors have other meanings and uses.  For instance, the book says brown is the color of disguise, to hide the true nature of a person, while grey reflects the desire to project emotional stability and detachment (notice it’s the desire to project them, not the actual qualities themselves).  The book notes that grey is the color favored by managers, businessmen and politicians.  Hm.

The power of color can also be used  for health and development. Color overlays on a book page are used for certain types of dyslexia, and wearing colored lenses can reduce migraines.  Perhaps there’s more than one reason to don rose-colored lenses if you suffer headaches.  Yellow can help students concentrate while studying. These powers of color transfer into food too, so that red foods are eaten for vitality (chocolate is considered a red food), orange foods release stress and promote creativity (eat more carrots!), and blue foods enhance communication. Got a presentation to give?  Eat a handful of blueberries beforehand.

The attached photos show where I am appearance-wise now.  You’ll notice a bit of those thematic colors of pink and grey.

I went through chemo and what I got was this lovely T-shirt.

Hair!

Spike.

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