Long Day's Journey . . .

Only once did I want to bite someone's head off at work yesterday. That may be a record on even the best of days. I do not suffer fools gladly, and striped of my vices . . .

But I made it home and promptly put myself to bed at 7 PM. Yeah. 7 PM on a Friday night in NYC. It was a public service. Had Mayor Bloomberg known of my plans I'm sure he would have declared a state of emergency -- he's been over-vigilant ever since that 2010 Christmas snowstorm. And I definitely had the potential to do more damage than the hurricane last season that had everything in NYC closed but came nowhere near us.

I can't say for a fact that I didn't snore last night, since the BF decided to ride out the storm in Jersey, but I know I didn't drool. Seriously, people, these are milestones. Every journey begins with a single step, and not waking having drooled on my pillow is definitely a step forward. Sure . . . weight could be a contributing factor, but I didn't drop that much overnight. I just need to own that I have a dairy allergy, and that my future is cheese-less.

As I began today's post, I checked in on Facebook and the news of the day in my microcosm. Shuffled between the baby pictures and posts on Whitney Houston was news about more friends being affected by cancer. Those of you who know me or have read this blog in the past, know that cancer started my journey with juicing. My mother was diagnosed with cancer just over 3 years ago. In addition to all of the treatments prescribed by doctors, I went looking for holistic remedies. I did my first juice fast hoping to get my mother to join me. I also started running. Two things that anyone who ever knew me would never associate with me. Last Fall, my mother made her first trip to Europe with me, and returned to continue her second round of chemo. Her last treatment for this round was just last week. Her numbers didn't drop quite as low as the first time around and she has never been officially in remission.

In 2007, Cancer was responsible for 13% of human deaths worldwide. 7.9 million people. Cancer does not discriminate, and does not care how much money you have. (Hospitals do -- but that's a subject for another day.) Cancer doesn't care if you're loved. It doesn't care if your needed. It doesn't care about the stress it puts on relationships, and it doesn't care if it breaks your heart. It doesn't care who it hurts.

My mother's cancer gives it's victims a 5 year life expectancy. Kathy Bates has the same disease and was diagnosed 9 years ago. My cat was diagnosed with cancer in October and was given 4 - 8 weeks at most. He lived for 12. Tomorrow, I take my younger cat to the vet for an unexplainded growth which I've suddenly noticed. Driving my aunt to a radiation treament a dozen years ago, she noticed my gloom and said, "Nicole, I have cancer. I'm not dying." I was amazed by her tone. And I still envy it. I have never found the definition of cancer that doesn't equal death sentence. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness permeates my life and makes me angry. I want to be able to fix things.

There are a few who beat it. Kathy Bates has been in remission for over 5 years. Dirk Bendict was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 1974 and healed himself by following a macrobiotic diet, fasting and exercise. He followed the idea if you get out of your body's way, it can heal itself. Not such a bad notion. And it's what brought me to the juice fast. I can tell in one day, that I feel better without dairy -- so why do I ever eat it? It's really not rocket science. Ann Wigmore preached raw foods and wheatgrass, and people like Eydie Mae Hunsberger were cured. Well, cured isn't the right word. Eydie Mae learned that certain foods helped cancer to grow, and other foods discouraged it.

So, on day 2 of 50, I wonder what good my fast will do? As a kid, I would drink a two liter bottle of soda with a bag of chips and half dozen candy bars on an average Friday night watching The Dukes of Hazzard and Dallas. Decades later, I run half marathons, bike to work in the good weather and have really good cholesterol levels. Maybe I'm doing this just to prove it can be done, and there's good to be found in it; that healing can be active and not just passive; that change can be good and that sometimes the most valuable thing you can ever hold onto is hope.