Crossroads. Again.

It's really difficult to write an update about myself in the middle of a war. It feels self centered or selfish or just wrong. The war raged on. There was a ceasefire. Now, it's apparent that the ceasefire ended with missiles and rockets being launched in every direction, including a few at my neighborhood last night.

There are few things more despicable than cancer. One of them is terrorism. Living under constant threat of death and destruction and at the complete mercy of God and the Israeli Army and the Iron Dome is very stressful. It's not completely different from my own personal cancer journey. My friends, in Israel, will understand me when I describe that moment when the air raid siren goes off. Is that the air raid siren?! Everybody freezes in their tracks. Within seconds, adrenalin surges through your veins. You grab your children and you move as quickly as you safely can to that bomb shelter. You don't think! You just move! Once you're safely in the bomb shelter, you might have a moment to let out a sigh of relief, a nervous smile to reassure the kids, yourself, the dog. For me, my heart pounding uncontrollably, is the next experience, sometimes accompanied by shaking.  The siren ends and then we wait. Sometimes we hear and feel explosions. My body shakes. My heart pounds. After a few minutes, it's safe to leave the bomb shelter. When will the next air raid siren ring? We just don't know. That complete randomness, absolute uncertainty... well not so absolute. We kind of have a feeling that there will be more missiles aimed at us but we just don't know when.

I made it this far. Again.

I'm in remission. The tumors have shrunk or are undetectable. It's a miracle that the chemotherapy worked quickly and efficiently. I'm very very lucky. I have been at this crossroads before and nobody thought that the cancer would come back so quickly. I've reached the boundaries of medical intervention. Just in time for me to enjoy the good news, there were also plenty of snags along the way. A possible brain bleed that ended up being nothing more than an apparent stroke that left a little hole in my brain. A hospital stay, in isolation, when my blood levels completely crashed as a direct result of toxicity from the chemotherapy. A glowing, on the PET CT, in my stomach, that required invasive tests with inconclusive results. An ache here and a pain there that I'm reluctant to pay attention to. Okay, SHH! Enough! I arrived at this crossroads with plenty of reminders that it can and will be pulled out from under me at any moment - without notice. The powers of Oncology can promise me that we have done everything possible to give me the best chance possible. I'm cautious and I'm optimistic. The only option, right now, is to live. Live life like there's no tomorrow because who knows what will happen next?

New drugs are being developed, PARP inhibitors. Around the time of my original diagnosis, in 2012, advanced studies were just taking off. Now, a phase 3 drug trial with a powerful PARP inhibitor is well underway and I'm a participant. Only time will tell how lucky a participant I am as 2/3 of the women receive the active drug and 1/3 of the participants receive a placebo; sugar pills.

Am I cured? No. There's no cure. Treatment may cure some women with ovarian cancer that is advanced when it is first diagnosed. For most women with advanced ovarian cancer, or cancer that has come back after treatment, it is not possible to cure it. I'm a positive and optimistic person who needs to live in reality and be prepared for whatever life may bring so I'm very comfortable sharing this information.

We are at war. Nobody knows when the terrorists will strike but we won't give up! We don't stop living. The stress and anxiety might make us want to sit in the bomb shelter but that's not much of a life, is it? The terrorists will never win. Neither will cancer. It's a done deal. There might not be a cure but there's always a crossroads and there's always a choice.

Here I am again, Crossroads, you missed me and I'm back.

Pray for Peace - Prepare for War

Life in Israel isn't peaceful and carefree. The mood, on the street, is worry and sadness. While we are strong and have faith in our strength, the constant threat of rocket fire, air raid sirens going off at any moment, and the loss of precious human life is in the air. Today is the 9th of Av. This very date, on the Hebrew calender, Tisha b'Av, marks a list of catastrophes so horrific, for the Jewish People, it's clearly a day that is cursed by God.

It all began when the Jewish People were wandering in the desert. We had just left Egypt and experienced the miracles of the Exodus. We were just about to enter the Holy Land, Israel, however on the 9th of Av, we cried that we wanted to go back to being slaves in Egypt because our own spies reported that Israel was uninhabitable. That was back in 1313 BCE. Both the First and Second Temples were destroyed on the same day, the 9th of Av, in 587 BCE and in 70 CE. The Roman massacre of over 100,000 Jews at Betar also occured on the 9th of Av back in 132 CE. The Jewish People were expelled from England on the 9th of Av, 1290 CE, from France in 1306, and from Spain in 1492. The three weeks leading up to 9 B'Av are weeks of mourning and we also commemorate the loss of 6 million Jewish People who were murdered by the Nazis during World War II which, came to be after The Final Solution was approved, during the mourning period of Av, in 1941.

Today, is a National Jewish day of mourning and fasting and prayer.

Today, the People of Israel, the Jewish People, are experiencing a modern day awakening of what our ancestors in the desert, our ancestors in England, France, and Spain, and let's face it, all of Europe, most certainly realized. The world is not a welcoming place for a Jew. What is the difference today? The Jewish State of Israel and the IDF. What's the same? Everything else and God.

I know that there is one place, on the entire earth, where I belong, in a total area of 8,630 square miles, 290 miles in length and about 85 miles across at the widest point. Surrounded  by Lebanon to the north, Syria to the northeast, Jordan to the east, Egypt to the southwest and the Mediterranean Sea to the west, my only home, so small it could comfortably rest inside of Lake Michigan and is often compared to the state of New Jersey. I'm not here to discuss politics and I leave the judgments up to God. I embrace my smallness, as a grain of sand, on God's vast and wonderful beach. I know of good and I know of evil. I know of love and faith and happiness and.... I know of pain and suffering and sadness. I know of war and I know of peace. I know where I'm wanted and where I'm not. I pray for peace yet I'm prepared for war.