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.