Lemon Cream Pie Day

November 29, 2023. My calendar for 2023 has a designation for every day of the year. Some are traditional, some are silly, and I’m pretty sure they are totally made up. Today is the mouthwatering Lemon Cream Pie Day. I like it. Lemon pie is one of my favorites. I’m noting it on my phone’s calendar, so from now on, every November 29th is Lemon Cream Pie Day.

The calendar’s monthly illustration is whimsical and always accompanied by a quote. The one for November is, “It can be easy to focus on what we do not have, but today is about being thankful for what we do, like having a heart so we can love, and having a family so we can practice. –Gabriel Andreas” I consider each one of you who read this blog and have supported me through my illness as an important part of my family. I hope you don’t mind if my heart continues to practice loving you. It’s such an easy thing to do.

As for me, I start 5 days of focal radiation (stereotactic body radiation therapy or SBRT) this coming Monday. I went for mapping and simulation on the 15th. It wasn’t what I was expecting at all.

The entire process takes place in a CT machine. The simulation technician had me lie down so I would go into the CT scanner head first. My head and neck were fully supported. She explained that I would wear special glasses that would allow me to see my breathing pattern, and I would be required to hold my breath. That all seemed simple enough. But this is when it took a step into the Twilight Zone. First she inserted a mouth piece, similar to what you might wear scuba diving. It was connected to an air line. Next she attached a nose clip to avoid air leakage. Then she placed special glasses over my own that allowed me to see a read-out of my breathing pattern. Finally both technicians inflated a sort of bean bag mold that they packed on both sides of my body to help keep me immobile. The simulation went something like this, I would breathe normally for three breaths which through the glasses looked like a radio wave. Then a colored bar would appear a few inches above the wave which was my cue to take a deep breath until the radio wave line reached the middle of the colored bar. As long as I held my breath the line would stay there. Once it disappeared I could breathe. The goal was to reach 40 seconds! Are you kidding me? I did not know how long 40 seconds could be until I tried to hold my breath that long! Was I successful? Yes. But it took me about 10 attempts to finally get there. What made it all the more challenging was trying to hold my breath for a specific amount of time with a somewhat heavy and very awkward device in my mouth, a clip on my nose, wearing glasses that only allowed me to see a read out of my breathing pattern. I wasn’t at all sure I could do it. My success came when I decided to try mindfulness–acknowledging what was happening in that moment while noticing my feet resting on the table, my arms raised above my head and my hands resting on the back of it, the weight of my body lying there–all in an attempt to distract myself from the effort it was taking to hold my breath for a mere 40 seconds. Doo, doo, doo, doo. Doo, doo, doo, doo.

On Monday the UCSF radiation team will implement everything we practiced on November 15. The simulation team said I likely won’t have to hold my breath for 40 seconds. It could be 23 seconds. It could be 38 seconds. In other words, it varies. According to Dr. Braunstein, once I’m all set up, the actual treatment will take about 10 minutes, provided I’m able to hold my breath for the required amount of time. If I breathe before the colored bar disappears, radiation automatically stops. I’m sure I can do it, but I have to admit I’m a bit nervous. There is a contingency if holding my breath for the required amount of time proves impossible. I don’t know what it is. I hope I don’t have to find out.

According to my calendar, November 30 is Personal Space Day. Sounds like a perfect day to practice holding my breath.

Though we tremble before uncertain futures, may we meet…adversity with strength, may we dance in the face of our fears. —Gloria E. Amzaldúa

20 Replies to “Lemon Cream Pie Day”

  1. Hiya Lana! I wish I had known it was lemon cream pie day; my favorite, with graham cracker crust. You can love me all you want and I won’t mind it at all. My heart is close to yours and has been for many years. I carry you around with me in my memories of working at the college, El Mex dinners and photos of kittens – mine and yours. I am going to the Spencer Brewer and Friends concert on December 16. Do you plan on going also? I would love to see you again and give you a heart to heart hug for a good long time.
    Mary

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  2. I like the lemon cream pie part…but the rest sounds like something out of Clockwork Orange. Did you ever think in your weirdest dreams you’d be sporting an outfit like that. Love and hugs to you Lana. You are amazing🤗 Patty

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  3. Lana – I so wish I could write like you. Your post are so educational but I feel like I’m right there with, which is mond, body and soul I am! You’re so brave and strong. I love you so much and have every sonce I met you in the fifth grade. My love is always with you and think of all those who love you while you’re holding your breath. And think of all the fun things we’ve done as the Thong Sisters. Love you to the moon and back!

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  4. Yikes, you continue to blow me away with your perseverance, witty humor, and gratitude. I had to do something along these lines with a contraption over my head when I was testing for metabolism. I didn’t think I could do it and after several attempts, I made it, just like you. It tested every ounce of determination and mindfulness I could muster up, so I can definitely relate to all that you described.

    I love everything about you. I look forward to your telling us the next success story.

    Hugs to you and Steve. ❤️

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  5. Every time I read your update, I am so thankful this is not ME – especially today – I’m a little (well, more than a little) claustraphobic and cannot imagine holding my breath for 40 seconds do dodo dodo – without complete panic. I am again reminded of your incredible strength; your complete ability to document and discuss the current status with a sense of humor and total reality. In my daily yoga, I stand on a vibration plate and for the first 5 minutes breathe in and breathe out – slow down the breathing, clear the mind – I’m surprised at how much help this has been for me! I’m grateful for you, your friendship, your updates and pray daily for your completely healing – Love you Lana (you too Steve)

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  6. You’ve got this! I know you can do it! I’m sending you strength and confidence to relax and DON’T BREATHE! HAHA! You are in my daily morning prayers…everyday! Take care…and eat some lemon cream pie!

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  7. I know you can hold your breath when you put your mind to it. I remember when we had a contest drinking water out of a gallon pitcher! You will be in my thoughts and prayers Love Bug…

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  8. Oooh! What a vivid and bizarre description! Am still trying to visualize what this looks like, what YOU look like in this treatment set up… Maybe a piece of lemon cream pie would help? I do know that you, Lana will smoothly and efficiently handle this next treatment hurdle. Love you sooo much ❤️ Tamara

    Sent from Proton Mail for iOS

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