21-Day Liver Gall Blader Flush

it's been some time since i last posted to the blog. today is the summer solstice. i've been preparing for this day as i've been fasting for 21-days with 90% liquids (master cleanse, green juices, smoothies), 8% raw foods, 2% cooked foods, coffee enemas, and a TON of supplements from Premier Research Labs leading to today. I've been feeling great, full of energy, getting to the gym regularly, and back in my power. today, on the 21st day i've prepared my body for this flush advise by my friend dr. gabriel cousins from the tree of life in az. today i've have taken in two epsom salt drinks and 8-ounces of olive oil over 15-minute increments with some additional supplements from PRL mixed in. the intention behind this flush to to give my body the final squeeze of pushing out any things residing in my body, especially my gall bladder and liver after the cancer/chemo chapter of my life. if anything has been lingering, i know i've knocked it all out. it's been over 4-months since my last round of chemo, 2-months since the port was removed from my chest, and 11-months since falling down the rabbit hole of cancer. it's fucking done, over, nullified, conquered, defeated, finito! this cleanse restores my everything back to optimum vitality. i feel stronger than ever and i'm wildly excited with everything happening in my world. life is more delicious than ever! thank you for reading and all your prayers and support. - fabian

surprise present

on the new moon of april 14th i held onto a daily practice during my morning prayers, riding the surge and energetic build cascading towards the full moon of april 28th. stirring my cauldron for a surprise present, over these two weeks in between moon phases my life was mounting towards a definitive ending of some significant chapters, (a) surgery to remove the implant that had lived in my chest for 8-months during my battle with cancer was at hand putting the exclamation point on cancer free!, and (b) i was helping my wife move out and was reinventing my apartment - as 'everything is gonna be alright' as i can be, things were going to suck. two weeks walking the path of ashes, wrestling with the great shifter of shapes, riding the victory of conquering cancer, and profoundly feeling combined excitement and remorse of what life means without Parashakti. At the table of great unknowing I held fast to my prayers and worked through the realities at hand. the full moon came with a surprise present gift wrapped in a text message from my brethren Elliot asking 'can you tour with the band in Europe next week and play keys? crazy, i know!'. With 24-hours I was learning new songs and had my tickets to play music with my friends in France, Belgium, Germany, and have time off in Amsterdam and Brussells. Playing music with my hommies in John Brown's Body was the best medicine. deep thanks be to The Great Mystery.

this ending - this beginning - this birthday

I've never been one to freak out and hit the panic button. I've been fortunate to be endowed with a certain sense, a depth of calm and understanding that when calamity hits everything goes into slow motion and I'm able to operate with clarity.

Tonight, I can't sleep. I'm bursting with anticipation as on April 22nd I land on a new birthday. I will finally have surgery to remove the implant on my chest, this metal cylinder that I've been living with since last summer that is directly accessing my jugular vein where all the chemo poisons shot through my heart to assassinate the cancerous cells. I could have taken a variety of holistic approaches that would have been gentler to my body and over all experience, but I signed up for this insane mission (with a knapsack full of green juices and sweatlodge prayers), allowing me to assassinate any shadow of a monkey on my back that would ever dare whisper to me that cancer is lingering in my body. There is no sharp shooter in fighting cancer… an analogy I like to share with friends about cancer: When an army has to destroy a rebellion, and those rebels are dressed like civilians, it is impossible to send a sharpshooter in to just assassinate the rebels because they are mixed in with the innocent villagers. What generally happens in this scenario is the military bombs the village, killing the rebels and all of the innocent (look at Afghanistan and Iraq). I don't approve of this method when innocent lives are taken, especially for political nonsense; but in the arena of cancer - the body is the village, the cells are both the innocent and the rebels, and the chemo is the unleashed military arsenal.

This experience with cancer has been an explosive fire. The process of defeating it has burned away almost everything - .my marriage, my career, my body, my being - so much has been burned down to ash. For months, my violent dance with chemo sent me into a burning river in what I described as a river in the valley of death, it was a baptism I wish upon no one. My 14-day cycle of death and rebirth lived through over and over again for 12-rounds over 6-months is an experience I am so grateful not to have to ever have to live through ever again - the entries of this blog serve as the memory. Through all this, I am fortunate - I've survived. I have spoken to my regenerated molecules, I have spoke to my reoxygenized blood, I have spoke to the four winds, I have spoken with my ancestors and know to my core that I have conquered the beast. The removal of 'the port' will mark the end of life as I have known it as with this new tribal scar, this initiation tattoos a specific moment in my life time; this ending - this beginning - this birthday.

I've had the last 8-weeks to live, love, regenerate, reassess, rebuild, and realign myself with my breath and my heart. As my new birthday approaches I'm diving over the edge head first with absolute surrender and trust in to the great unknown… diving in to what I named this blog so many months ago - into the great mystery. And so it is…

Phoenix Rising

CT-Scan and Procedures

It's been about 9-weeks since I made an entry here. After spending 7-months beating cancer, I escaped the New York City winter and lived between Miami and Los Angeles. I've returned to a regular yoga practice, been exercising a lot, eating healthy, I'm deep in my daily spiritual practice, and over all feeling highly charged and alive. I know to the core of my being that I am cancer free, there is not an hint of disease anywhere in this body.

Still, procedures need to be adhered to… I had a hospital visit yesterday, my first time walking in to Mt. Sinai Medical since my last round of chemo in February. In previous visits my body would convulse and my head would start spinning just by placing my feet on the concrete steps outside the hospital doors; that reaction is no longer activated; it's a bit of a big deal…

I went to the hospital to have the port 'flushed' and a CT scan. I had to consume a thick chemical infused smoothie, and 20-minutes later I was in a robe, laying back being swallowed by a machine. As the CT-scan was proceeding I was injected with ISOVUE, a solution that allows the machine to reach my body. The nurse said, 'your whole body will feel like you are getting a hot-flash, try not to panic'. Fortunately, it was no big thing, I just visualized turning into light and breathed easily. When the procedure was done the nurse said, 'just drink a lot of water and the chemicals will be out of your body in a few days, you need to get them out of your kidney's'!!! I asked 'can i go and sweat it out in steam and sauna', they replied 'that would be much faster'. i rushed from the hospital to the Russian Baths and detoxed for three hours, it was a profound experience between the heat, the bathroom, the heat, the cold, the bathroom... the chemicals took the express train out of my body.

I have a few birthdays in my life, anniversaries of major events that have initiated me though this life. i have a new one coming up next thursday april 22nd as at 8am that morning i will be at the hospital going through the surgery to extract the metal implant in my chest from which the chemo was administered. it will officially mark the conclusion of what has been the darkest chapter in my life. It's almost over… Following the surgery I intend to do a liver/kidney/heavy metal detox to rejuvenate my blood.

Phoenix Rising

Into The Next

Today is a birthday of sorts. It marks the first time in 6-months that my 14-day cycle of death and rebirth is over. My affair with chemotherapy is really over. It is the first time in two weeks that my blood is feeling a deeper sense of chemical absence. It's the first time in two weeks that my mouth feels far from chemo mouth. It's the first time my body is not craving meat and wine combat all the chemicals. It's much easier, and enjoyable to drink green juices and eat salads. Each day I go to the gym, I feel my strength and energy returning to me. The chemicals are fading, I'm beating them out. I've been in Miami for a week. The weather has been far from ideal with the temperature dancing between the mid-50's and upper 60's, far from the skin penetrating heat I've been longing for. Hopefully my body will engage in that sensation when I reach LA on Sunday for my 1-month there. I shaved of all my hair since I arrived here. I've buried some of it, offered some to the ocean, burned a handful with some cloths I regularly wore during chemo, and gave some to the wind to play with. Little rituals help in activating intentions, and allow me to connect with my spirit guides, my orishas, my angels, whatever name we give to the unseen - I feel I'm being witnessed by the other side as I transition into The Next.

Phoenix Rising

I should be ecstatic and bouncing off the walls today as I've crossed the finish line and completed my 12th and final round of chemo therapy. 7-months of hell is over. I'm happy, exhausted, and so deeply relieved that this chapter of my life will soon be past me. Over the next 12-months I will be having to visit the hospital for check-ups and to 'flush' the port implanted in my chest. The implant will remain with me for one more year 'just in case'. I feel I am cancer free. I have spoken to my blood, my cells, my DNA, my skeletal and molecular composition. In every vomiting occurrence I did my best to consciously focus and purge the cancer, purge old stories, burn away illusions, and burn out any old karmic baggage that no longer serves any purpose. It's been era - very, very real. As my poisoned blood has swirled through my body I feel as though it has etched into my bones my life story thus far like the carvings on some ancient walls. I'm very clear on where I'm standing, and I'm psyched to reengage and rewrite the next phase of my life.

Thank you for all the prayers and well wishes, it fueled the process.

Phoenix Rising

Round 11 - on the 15th purge

It's been 6-days since I was last in front of my computer. I wish I could say it was because I was on retreat deep in the Peruvian Amazon making a profound connection with nature, or recuperating on a sun drenched sandy beach in the Caribbean, or detoxing with my wife in Costa Rica at a yoga intensive; but no, this was a chemo week - round 11. I'm finally climbing out of it's shadow. I'm not one with a habit of complaining, and I've expressed in previous blogs the reasons I write this; but more than anything, I write this for myself and others that might benefit from my experiences through chemo.

Because of my age, and because I am approaching the conclusion of these treatments, the chemo has gotten more aggressive. This past round was by far the most hellish of them all. Thinking about it makes me sick. Simply put, 5-days in bed, absolute weakness, 5-days of continual vomiting, total nausea, inability to hold anything in my system, not even water or the anti-nausea meds. The chemo squeezed itself deeply into my blood and bones. I vomited so much I stopped counting on the 15th purge. My old friend Vishal had me on the phone as I was having a meltdown on Friday night. His trusted diagnosis lead me to the ER.

I had to spend my Saturday in the emergency room at Mt. Sinai with my devoted mom. My dehydrated body got pumped with 5-litters of fluid, two smaller bags of potassium and two hits of anti-nausea medication. I had vomited so much that small ulcers have formed at the back of my throat. The simple act of swallowing my slimy medicated saliva currently provides an excruciatingly painful experience; as if when the opposite walls of my throat compress together to swallow they stab each other with tiny sharp blades instead of kissing and giving thanks for the yumminess entering the body. Sipping warm tea, broth, some pita and hummus, letting some chocolate melt in my mouth - insane pain. My larynx and esophagus are on fire. My tongue is chalk white. The doctors say that if I were not on chemo it would heal quickly as the throat regenerates new cells continually, but since chemo kills all the good and bad cells, it will take longer. I've never moaned and groaned more in my life. Add to the mix my hair has been thinning and slowly falling off. Thank God, this hell is almost over, Feb 1st is the 12th and final chemo session. I'm almost there…

The Support of Friends & Community - Sat Jan 30th

I'm deeply touched and moved to post the flier above. Months ago when this cancer entered my world, my friend Damon Banks reached out wanting to put together an event to help me. With great gratitude I had said no. More of my music community reached out. I'm not sure how this all came together as I have not been involved, but I see many of my community have come together and given birth to this event. I'm looking forward to seeing many of my friends and favorite musicians on stage together, helping me, and helping the efforts of Doctors Without Boarders in Haiti. This happening is coming together less than 48-hours before my 12th and final chemo session!

Barry White meets Don Corleone: Recipe for Laryngitis

This past week I attended APAP, a music and arts conference I've been attending now for 10-years. Fortunately the conference started as I got out of the shadow of chemo session #10 and I got to reconnect with my peoples and make some new friends. I love these conferences as I'm back in with my world music tribe. As the conference has concluded I have officially lost my voice and have been officially diagnosed with laryngitis. My voice has been reduced to a whisper. My throat feels like there is a five pound donut pushing the bones and nerves of my throat outwards. I cough and my adams apple explodes (read earlier posts about exploding throat). My throat is raw. I'm praying that this initiation will find me waking up one morning with the singing voice I've always dreamed of!

So, here is a recipe for laryngitis.

Sunday Night (1/3): The heat didn't work well, woke up Monday morning with a cough.

Monday - Wednesday (1/4 - 6) : It's Chemo week, treatment #10. Chemotherapy causes immune system to breakdown, cough develops minor chest cold, regular chemo side-effect of vomiting induces acid burning in throat coupled with the pressure of exploding throat.

Thursday - Monday (1/7 - 11): I'm out of the shadow of chemo. Attend APAP conference, lots and lots of conversations, attended over 25-concerts, participated in fun series of late nights at clubs and restaurants with the world music tribe. Breathing in frigid 20-degree air is like small daggers ripping my throat. What was once the burning throat metamorphosises into brittle dry throat and lungs feeling like a very dry tree. Five nights of half-sleep and exorcist like coughing epidemics permits a mere 4-5 hours of sleep a night. As the days pass I'm forced to speak slowly and deeply. Voice changes into that of Barry White meets Don Corleone from The Godfather.

Tuesday Morning (1/12): Voice reduced to a whisper. Only able to consume hot lemon and honey. Messages sent to my medical team. It's Laryngitis. New codeine-infused medicine enters my system, now I'm able to sleep for the first time in days.

Sounds pretty bad, but I'm feeling remarkably content…

Session #10 - light at the end of the tunnel

I'm slowly crawling out of the shadow of chemo session #10. On my last entry I was considering the addition of a new medication. My last two sessions #9 & #10 have been fueled with irinotecan. It's been nothing short of debilitating. I know it's been working as intense side effects from extreme vomiting to feeling heavily medicated and supremely weak all while feeling a tingling, almost sparkling colon while the chemo is doing it's work. It's been hell, but it's almost over - TWO MORE sessions to go!!! I can see the light at the end of the tunnel!

Over the first four days of chemo I'm a dreadfully weak sight. Yesterday evening (day #4), I finally got out of my house and made it to the Russian Baths where I only had the stamina for 25-minutes (I'm usually there for 2-hours). I followed the baths with a 90-minute massage which I believe helped get my blood moving again and restore some of my chi. Most everyone who sees me these days share compliments on how good I look. Internally I feel like my muscles are melting, my blood is poisoned, my mouth is medicated, and my life force is taking a beating. The hospital infuse my blood with strong dosages because of my youth and that I can rebound quickly. In their eyes I should never be hit with cancer again as the chemo has been having it's full effects. In my mind, I'm getting all future severe sicknesses out of the way now. In one month this nightmare will be over. I will most likely spend February in Florida where I will do a 3-week heavy metal liver-gall bladder flush to detoxify my blood, and spend the month in physical training to revitalize my body. It's the next chapter on this path of transformation.

flora and fauna

One of the many unpleasantries the doctors don't tell you about before beginning chemo is the length of time the chemicals remain present in your body. Friends regularly ask 'how was the last chemo session', thinking after a 4-our hospital visit and 48-hours of being connected directly to a chemo box that it's over. Simply put, it's not. The chemo keeps work as it's swimming in the blood. My time and focus in between chemo sessions is getting it out of my body. I've documents in many of my previous posts the various side-effects and the process of conquering them; and the general time it's taken me to restore my body back to full vitality (especially since the removal of the ferociously nasty oxaliplatin). Since completing chemo session 8 of 12, I took a trip to Miami with my parents to get some sun and silence. I've been on a steady in-take of green juices here, and I hired a physical trainer and been visiting the gym and ocean daily. My first day at the gym was profound. It was a stead 60-min of cardio, running, and general muscle strengthening. Within the first ten minutes of running my salavia started to generate the medicated chemo mouth. As I lifted weighths my muscels squeezed the chemo and the scent started to push through my pours. The lifting and the running really squeezed out a whole level of toxicity that neither yoga or the sweats at the Russian Baths had accomplished. I knew what my body was climaxing towards as I worked through my program with my trainer, for 2-minutes after my workout was complete I approached the first setting of flora and fauna and gave all the contents of my stomach to the earth.

Monday I return to the hospital for chemo #9. I am two thirds complete. For the final third I've been asked to add a new medication to my 'cocktail' - irinotecan. I haven't made a decision yet. I feel I've suffered enough, yet at this moment - after all the running, swimming, and lifting I feel stronger than ever. I will continue meditating on it until I reach the hospital.

Almost there.....

Round VII - crossing the midway point

It's been almost a month since my last entry. It's been an easy way to communicate to many of my friends about this ordeal as the process has found me on a self imposed exile from everyone. From being in touch with a vast network of friends, colleges, partners and prospective collaborators; my accessibility is limited to a a handful of dear ones. My beak was dipped into countless pools reaping rewards as 'fixer' or 'manager' or 'adviser' to many. This current moment in my life is the first time in well over a decade that I'm focusing on myself and waking up in the mornings thinking about my own creative projects, and not the means by which to solve the issues surrounding the creations of others. It's a significantly different reality...

Since my last entry I've crossed the midway point of chemotherapy. I do this blog for myself, for my friends, and to leave information behind for others that might have to walk down a similar path. At this moment I'm connected to my chemo, it's the middle of round seven out of the prescribed twelve. I can finally sense the finish line, it's distance is closer than ever. It's been hell to get here. The game changer was removing the platinum from my 'cocktail'. No longer am I stabbed in the jaw when I eat, no longer am I experiencing the neuropathic electrocutions, no longer is the volume of suffering turned up to eleven.... it's now somewhere around four. Every person, every body, every blood, every spirit is different in how it handles disease and the treatments created to cure/heal/prevent the shituation. I believe the suffering I experienced by the platinum gave me the endurance I have to complete the process. What remains in my world of side effects:

1) Chemo Mouth: By morning my tongue will be covered in a disgusting yellow-grey coat that alters my sense of taste and infuses my saliva with the vile taste of medication. Regular tongue scraping and mouth washing helps eradicate some of the symptoms. Last week, or the first time since this journey began I had 6-days of no-hint of chemo mouth. This is obviously due the lack of platinum, standard mouth maintenance, and a steady regular intake of red wine. (Love and respect to my friend Rene Goiffon who sent me 8-bottles of wine and some great classical music). Red wine has been a HUGE help. It helps kill the chemo mouth, and helps my blood.

2) Vitality: Anyway we look at it, chemo is poison. The reality is that this chemical is killing my immune system on a regular basis in hopes that any cancerous cells that may be lingering in my body will be killed. One thing that this does is cause serious fatigue. On Wednesday, as soon as I'm disconnected from my chemo pack I go through a routine process of squeezing it all out of my body through regular sweats at the Russian Baths, yoga, my trampoline (to stimulate the lymph nodes), massage, acupuncture, and loads of green juice.... and writing songs.

If anything is reactivating my aliveness and tasting the nectar of life is the riding spirit of writing a song, it's through music that my vitality is reborn.

Round V - Platinum

I'm now in the 5th round of chemo. It's been a while since my last entry. My blogging was postponed due to the severity of round four which by far produced the highest level of poisonous suffering this body has ever endured. It really took two weeks to get past round four. Reasons:

1) Extreme Chemo Mouth: A nasty yellow tongue lasted for two weeks forcing me to need to have something in my mouth all the time. I've had to use my tongue brush 3-4 times a day to peal off a thick yellow substance that continuously formed on my tongue. My saliva tasted metallic. I returned to eating meats as it helped strengthen me, and helped my taste buds react - but there have been no lasting effects to remove chemo mouth. Two glasses of red wine each night also helped numb my tongue and my senses, but only temporary. Citrus upset my system and caused vomiting. Ginger helps. Food has not tasted the same at all. I'm most fond of red wine these days...

2) Hi-Level Neuropathy: Imagine dental floss wrapped tightly around your hands and feet, your finger and toes with little barbed wire jagged edges. Imagine this sensation simply arising in your body because of a breeze, or wrapping around your face because of a cool wind, or touching a cold object… or simply using your hands to type of play a piano - the highest level of 'pins-and-needles' imaginable was delivered with round four.

3) Shadow of Death: This medicine makes me feel like I'm dying. It's been killing me. My life force, my prana, my energy is completely wiped out overtime I do chemo, and round four threw me over the edge.

With tears in my eyes I brought my case to my oncologist yesterday; desperate to find an alternative path to treating my condition. We reviewed the situation and concluded we remove one part of the medication - the platinum. At this moment of writing I am connected to my chemo pump, in my 32nd hour of the chemicals being dripped into my body, and for the first time since walking this path I'm able to function. I still feel ill, but I'm not bedridden. I'm sensitive to cold, but I'm not hyperneuropic. My tongue is still producing a funky substance, out the metallic taste is gone. Most important, I don't feel the shadow of death draining my life force away. I'm out of bed re-engaging with my life.

That's the report for today. Thanks for reading.

Round IV

Pictured to the left are an adoring crowd of Kaiaslh Kher fans in Dallas. The past few weeks have been an existence of extremes, one week I'm in bed, then I'm in some city with my friend and business partner Ali and our artist Kailash Kher. The tour is now over. I've made it to Los Angeles, Dallas, and this past weekend Chicago for the IIT Conference where Bill Clinton gave a keynote and Kailash and the boys were the gala event. It's been great fun having road time with a solid band of friends at memorable events.

Yesterday I completed round four of chemo. It's pulverizing. Neuropathy was kicking at it's highest level yet sending electric shocks accompanied by pins-and-needles throughout my hands and feet, nasty chemo mouth has turned my tongue yellow, and the intense nausea inspired my first oral projection, clearing all the contents of my empty stomach. I'm not joking when I share with my friends that my current life cycle revolves around a 14-day period during which I experience a week of death followed by a week of life. I really quite awful. I can't do much of anything while the chemo is in my blood beyond listening to music, watching movies and documentaries, and sleeping. I've been writing a lot of songs these days, but playing the piano while on chemo only heightens the neuropathic effects sending the electrical sensations deeper into my fingers… I now keep a hot pillow around the piano to warm my hands when I play to try and counter the effects.

The hardest part of this process over the last two treatments have been chemo mouth (clearly accented by yellow tongue). My taste-buds are extremely sensitive, nothing tastes like it normally would. My sense of smell is hyperactive and overwhelming and certain smells spin me into nauseous spell. The whole experience has really done a job at remixing my system. Yet, when the chemo has passed after a week, one would never know that I've been experiencing this hell. My vitality is restored, my mind is sharp, all my faculties are fully functioning. I'm able to do some work, see friends, spend time with my parents and family, get to the Russian Baths to sweat out the chemicals, get massage and acupuncture to further push the chemicals out, and operate on preparing my body for the next round of chemo. That's the reality. My week of life is spent squeezing the toxicity out of my body and preparing it for the following round.

That's the story for now.... this cycle will continue until mid-February. I'm am one-third down the road beating this.

[The above photo was taken before Kailash hit the stage in Chicago. And yes, I'm growing a beard.]

Round III: lightening bolts and spiritual interventions

It's been close to a week since my last entry. I write this as I'm on a plane to Dallas where I'm joining my partner Ali on our Kailash Kher & Kailasa tour. Kailash is expected to perform tomorrow at the new Dallas Cowboy Stadium to an audience of over 40,000 people as the headliner of a Diwali Festival. I know it will be worth the effort as this past week of chemo is still lingering and I need to return to this part of my life. This past week found me in bed coping with round III of chemo. Chemo brain was present, sheer exhaustion and fatigue were in full effect, nasty medicated chemo mouth is still wrapped around my tongue (it's really yucky), and of course the stabbing sensation in my jaw while eating has been a regular companion. The specific area of detonation ignited by grape or bread, pasta or green juice is called 'the condyle of the mandible', or 'the head of the jaw bone', or simply 'the temporomandibular joint'…. speaking of which, I need a joint…. Last I wrote I had resurrected my recording studio, created a dust storm and took in a little cold. The eye of the chemo tornado pulled it all together resulting in the alchemical side effect of what I will call 'exploding throat'; be it cough or sneeze, with any heavy exertion of air through my Adams Apple, the force would result in 'exploding throat', sending a message to my cerebral cortex that my voice box has shattered into a thousand piece and causing difficulty of breath. Fortunately I'm not one to panic and I'm generally very good with my breath, but the process of re-composition would generally take an average of 90-seconds. FUN!

Another chemo character to share more shades of its personality was neuropathy. If it were a cartoon character it would be personified by a friendly lightening bolt that when aggravated quickly transforms into a jagged razor sharp evil web of electricity. A week earlier our little friend was introduced to the story by my holding a cold pint of sambazon acai, it was here that it took my hand for an introductory handshake. This week I became well acquainted with my new friend in holding more lightening in my hands, pounding electricity on the piano keys, electrical jolts running through my feet, and feeling a cool breeze kiss my lips sending shocks through my mouth and up towards my nose (mother natures new way of saying 'i love you'). All that said as I type this with every keystroke a little lightening jolt nibbles on my fingertips. Sexy stuff!

I mainly spent this past week in bed coping. Monday at the hospital getting hooked to the juice, then stuck in bed in my headphones until Wednesday morning when I for the first time disconnected myself from the chemo pack, (I'll take a picture of the long needle that we unclamp from the port in my chest). My acupuncturist came over and tuned me up (forgot to mention the lower left area of my back has been enduring nasty muscle spasms all week), and then my friend Vanessa drove me to the Omega Institute where I linked with my wife on our 2-year wedding anniversary to spend time in the current of Brazilian healer 'John of God' (over a thousand people a day came to Omega for this happening). Wed - Friday were spent at Omega. I had a spiritual intervention, spent more time in bed in my headphones, collapsed in front of my friends Brett & Helema as a muscle spasm overtook me, ate like a bird, and returned home by bus on Friday to spend a little time with my father for his birthday. Now I'm on a plane… Something tells me I'm pushing myself a little too much, what do you think? I know I can handle it, I'm as strong as a lion!

To my friends that have been calling, texting, emailing and have received only silence, please excuse the reality that I had to drop out this past week, and I will be forced to drop out every other week. Between chemo, family affairs, and taking in the electrical current of John of God, this week has been all about healing… everything right now is about healing. All social and business activities are on hold. I've been so busy being sick and tired I didn't even get to enjoy the all organic au-natural herbal remedies my friends have been gifting me with. To be perfectly honest, it's a little challenging to smoke a spliff when your mom is taking care of you, your father is always around, and your wife is a hardcore raw-live-vegan-shamanic-healer. Still, as Round IV approaches I'm going to have to schedule it in like I schedule acupuncture and massage, I can explain to my family that next to the supplements of vitamin B, and C and magnesium and gold and iron that Vitamin M is also an integral part of the healing process.

unraveling life's secrets

It's been a week since my last blog entry. Since resurrection there's been a lot of running around over the last 7-days. My Saturday through Thursday were eaten up wearing the managers hat. I flew to LA on Saturday to be with our act Kailash Kher and Kailasa. We rocked The Hollywood Bowl on the Sunday to an audience of approximately 13,000 people, we landed 90-minutes of live on-air time with Kailash on our favorite radio station KCRW (click to listen/watch) on the Monday, returned to NYC for a hit at Le Poisson Rouge on the Tuesday, dealt with logistics and more logistics until we got them to the airport and they flew to Vancouver on Thursday (of course someone got lost in the airport and missed the plane). My business partner Ali is with the boys for Vancouver, Seattle and San Francisco (his beautiful son Maysum is pictured above standing on the Hollywood Bowl stage after watching Uncle Kailash rock). I will reconnect with the band in Dallas on Saturday for our Dallas Cowboys Stadium concert. Free of managerial obligations I spent 16-hours on Friday resurrecting my studio with Brad and throwing away a lot of old technology. The exercise unleashed a nasty sneezy dust storm and now I'm sick. The doctors warned me that my immune system would weaken, but dust?!?! Old bacteria floating in the air did a number on me… Saturday's attempt to remedy the situation with an afternoon at the Russian Baths, all the green juices and healthy foods swimming with my blood, and a Tiesto concert at the Hammerstein Ballroom was not enough to knock out what has developed into a little cold. I've spent my Sunday with the family. Tomorrow morning my 14-day cycle of death and rebirth begins again as I enter Round III of chemo. Hopefully the pressure I feel in around my sinus's and eyes will not magnify as chemo brain sets in - fun!

It's been a challenging week. One of re-evaluation, letting go, holding on, and confronting those things that are not working for me at this point in my life. In my truth of truths I find I'm most excited waking up in the morning and going straight to my piano and writing songs. My entrepreneurial mind is retreating more and more each day as my obsession for writing songs is taking me over. Over the last month I've birthed 3-songs that I really like: 'Nothing Less Than A Miracle', 'So Many Lives' and 'Michangelos Den'. Pushing chords, melodies, lyrics and arrangements is like unraveling life's secrets, unearthing some great mystery, and taking a snap shot of my immediate present. Time ceases to exists when I'm alone and lost in the music. I'm far from stressed and lost in the songs frequency. It's now been 1-month living with chemo. 5-months remain in-front of me. As I've been letting go of my old possessions, I'm starting to redefine the relationship I have with my obligations and recommitting to my love affair with writing songs. Chemo starts in about 15-hours… I'm now going to spend a few hours tweaking some compositions before my mind starts to melt...

5-days to bounce back...

I'm leaving to LA in 3-hours. It's been a rough week. My ability to bounce back from chemo took me 5-days this week! Total lack of appetite and chemo brain killed me. I spent my Friday afternoon laying in the grass in Central Park meditating on channeling the chemo brain out. Fresh air, grass, trees and nature really help me. I went to the Russian Baths and almost fainted, my body went into a bit of shock, but the intensity helped reactivate my appetite, I had my first real meal in a week last night at one of my favorite little place, Hummus. I woke up this morning without chemo brain. It's remarkable, I can go days feeling absolutely drained, overwhelmingly frail, no appetite to speak of, and then wake up one morning and not feel an ounce of illness. I'm excited and ready for the 48-hour adventure in LA!

Music (as always) has been the best medicine in helping me transcend the challenges. I've been hooked on the new Imogen Heap album "Ellipse", especially the songs 'Wait it Out', ' Swoon', 'Tidal', and 'Half Life'. Seriously falled in love with the song 'Sweet Disposition' by The Temper Trap; I must have listened to it over 50-times this week, I can not get enough of it…. it's reminds me of what I was listening to and feeling as a teenager. My friend Gaura Vani wrote a song 'Surrender' that I've also been taken by. The new album 'Eternal' by Huun Huur Tu With Carmen Rizzo has also been in heavy rotation this week. Between that, I'm continually returning to swim in the oceans of Radiohead, Nusrat, Marley and The Beatles. All that said, my playlists are ready for the flight - now I've got to pack! Let me know if you like any of the songs mentioned, they are all available online.

Back to life....

As the chemo is fading out of my system I'm now able to write. Round II was not as fatal as the first round two weeks ago, but still, this is no picnic. I'm faced with a lot of anger in the knowing that my abilities are being compromised by the absorption of the platinum brews integration with my blood. The pressure I've felt for the last 48-hours on the front of my brain pressing down on the roof of my eye balls is far beyond headache or migraine, it's something entirely new to my experience of life. I'm grateful that I only have to endure it for a few days, but these past days have proven that I have to enforce a policy of absolute inactivity. I attempted to work for a few hours on Tuesday, but it only accelerated the spinning. I tested my boundaries with neuropathy by holding onto ice, I can only endure the jagged little lightening needles through my finger-tip down towards my knuckles. I experienced the burning of my tongue by eating watermelon, I'm not joking! It was akin to searing ones tongue with hot soup. Additionally, my drinking a room temperature glass of apple cider lead to my throat adopted the effects of consuming shards of broken glass. And yes, the wonderful stabbing of the jaw bones when eating anything is still a companion of mine. Also, my sense of smell is hypersensitive. Fortunately, I've learned what to expect and how to deal with some of the predictable side effects. The most difficult one to bare is the hundred pounds that push on my brains into my eye sockets, I call it chemo brain. I had hoped to bounce back quickly from chemo, but yet I still remain here in NYC while my wife is the plane I was scheduled to ride with her to LA this morning. I will join her, and Ali, and Kailash and the band and friends in LA on Saturday, in time for our Sunday show at the Hollywood Bowl. Have I mentioned that after a year of Ali and I representing Kailash that the album has finally been released this week on Cumbancha! Please, if you're going to do me a favor you can either buy the album, or arrange for an iPhone app to be produced by my 'UpriseMozaik' venture... All this said, Round II was easier than Round I, hopefully Round III will be easier than Round II.

I spent time with my oncologist yesterday after I learned how to disconnected myself from the chemopack. The good news, I can take the supplements my friend Dr. Gabriel Cousens suggested I ingest to strengthen my blood cell count and immune system - today I start. Hopefully it will make Round III more tolerable. The unfortunate news, I can not take a lower does of chemo - it is what it is. Leading up to LA I'm going to drink a ton of green juices and get to the Russian Baths twice so I can sweat out the chemicals and regain my vitality before boarding the plane.

Round II: Shooting Lightening

Today I began Round II of chemo, spent about 4.5-hours at the hospital. Between the arrival, the blood test, the results, first round of chemicals, blood pressure and temperature evaluation, next round of chemicals, more B.T. evaluation, then getting strapped onto my chemopack to go, the whole process took four and a half hours. Add an hour to go, another hour to come home and the day is pretty much eaten up by the process. I was blessed today as I had three angels with me, my mom, my wife, and our friend Hari (from Golden Bridge Kundilini NY). During the two hours of chemical intake Hari and Parashakti massaged my hands and feet leading me into a deep sleep. At one point I was dreaming, casting seeds on to a yellow field and I awoke as my body reenacted my seed throwing initiative in the physical space as my hands tossed imaginary seeds awakening me. Two weeks ago when I went in for my first round of chemo, the session at the hospital was not that bad. Today it was even easier as I had the blessing of four hands tending to me.

I left the hospital with my mother, the side effects started to kick-in; medicated mouth temporarily solved by yummy organic candy, pressure from the top of my eyeballs, the stabbing dagger into my jaw from a first bite of an apple (my favorite side effect) and a lil fatigue played out by excessive yawning. We went from the hospital to the supermarket to get some supplies and it was there that a new side effect came into being.

I was warned not to hold anything cold. During round one of chemo I was able to tolerate the cold, not experiencing the side effects I had been warned of. Over the last few days I've enjoyed the cold plunge at the Russian Baths, cold water, cool air.... I'm a bit of a polar bear. Today at the supermarket I figured I would get some coconut milk ice cream, and it happened. It took no less than 10-seconds from pulling two pints with my hands from the frozen goods area that I experienced my first electrocution through the hands. It was an amazing feeling, like small jagged needles entering my fingertips and expanding into my hands. It was shocking and painful, and I just observed it and took it in until the jagged little lightenings expanded their shock treatment from finger tips to knuckles; I then threw the pints into my mothers hands. It was intense. The sensational pain lingered, I still feel some of the residual effects on my right finger tips. As I write this I'm feeling the a bit of the fatigue set in. I'm going to test my endurance today and get some things done before I collapse and linger in the valley of death for the next 2-3 days as the chemo does its work. Over the next few days I will exist in the silence of my medicated meditation and learn how to shoot lightening from my finger tips.

cyclical pattern of death and rebirth

Since my last entry upon returning from Omega my vitality has fully returned. With the passing of Labor Day Weekend it feels like everyone has returned to work. It's been a bit challenging for me to look at what I can realistically do and what I can not take on. Basing this theory on my chemo experience last week, my existence for the next 6-months will be a 2-week cyclical pattern of death and rebirth, one week of death followed by a week of life, and onward towards Valentines Day will this cycle continue. The discipline of meeting my own self-imposed deadlines in such short spaces of time will hopefully provide me the ability to complete a smattering of half baked projects that have been sitting on my desk requiring focused attention. All that said, it's been a productive few days - it's the first time I have done ANY work since July 15th, when the unplanned operation took place... really since July 1st, when my precious cat for 17-years, Fairuz died in my arms. It feels really good to be able to work!

Beyond work, this week has also been one of training and preparation for the 2nd round of chemo. I've been fueling myself daily with 4-5 green juices, eating healthy, regular prayer (in alignment with the call to prayer that sings out of my iPhone every few hours reminding me when the hundreds of millions of fasting Muslims observing Ramadan are also on their knees), some exercise, and regular time around the piano writing songs. I was looking pretty good before, but now thirty pounds lighter, I feel and look better than I have in years. all my clothes are big on me. I do not look like I'm dealing with cancer, but this IS the week of life, next week will be considerably different.

As major rainfall descends upon the eastern seaboard, it is safe to say that our GlobeSonic Summer Dance Party on The Hudson will be canceled by the City Parks Foundation tonight. I was really looking forward to it. We had over 1200 people attend our last party on the Hudson, it truly fed my spirit as it was the first time I had really been out since the hospitalization. I do not plan on DJing until November when Parashakti and I launch a new event entitled 'Illuminate' at the brand new Open Center (more on that later). I have a fine weekend of activities leading me to Mondays Chemo. I will goto the United Nations for " A Concert for Pakistan", be present for for a 'Shivah' in observance of the passing of my friends father, meet with the renown Dr. Robert Young, brunch with my Cuban cousin Leonor who I have not seen for years, and hopefully I will get to The Russian Baths and sweat out what ever chemicals may still be lingering in my body so that I am even more ready for the 2nd round. I was at The Baths yesterday, I am very very fortunate that I have not experienced the electrical jolting side-effect that cold can have on the body, it only manifests when I eat (I've learned how to work with it). Hopefully this weeks preparations will give me the strength and stamina I need to get on the plane to LA on Thursday for the Kailash Kher concert at the Hollywood Bowl. I'm going to try to cheat a day off from my death sentence to get to LA.

Keep sending the good vibes - FKA