The Glass is Half-Full

Today, I'm half-way through my radiation treatments. Ten down, ten to go. Yep, you read that correctly. This "I'm Cancer Free" celebrator discovered, that while there is not detectable cancer seen on my MRI or from surgery I get to enjoy 20 rounds of radiation. Just to make sure. I wasn't buying it initially. I talked with the radiation doc, my medical oncologist, my surgeon, my nurse practitioner, another Triple negative survivor, my hubby, my sister, my manager and even my dog. The closest I got was that I know myself best but the docs know cancer. Even Wally, that lovable pup, wasn't buying it. His silence was traitorous.  So, I reluctantly began with visions of Chernobyl sugar plums dancing in my head. Interestingly enough, as I began my hubby was just ending his radiation treatment for prostate cancer. No one could accuse us of not knowing how to live???? We radiate.  The zap sessions, as I like to call them, are quick enough. The prep, however,...

I went into this cancer journey with a positive attitude and with the convictions that it was not going to be a focus of 2019. My focus has been on the wedding of my first-born Michael to the wonderful Carmen. Chemo ended on June 10 and gave me the time needed to ‘recover’ before the July 13 wedding. Surgery was scheduled then for July 23 so I’d have the week between to attend to any pre-surgical appointments. What I found,instead on July 14 after the wonderful wedding was anything BUT focus or any desire whatsoever to have to even entertain the smallest thought about cancer or surgery or recovery. I not only didn’t want to entertain those thoughts I wanted to banish them, to get some bouncer to shove them permanently to the curb. (Although in my ‘hood we don’t have curbs). So the first appointment I had was with an Occupational Therapist. I couldn’t even recall why the hell I had to meet with an OT and that is pretty much how I started the conversation. ME:”So, I’m not even sure ...

this is a blog post I wrote in March 2017, but didn't publish. I read this again this morning and decided there's no time like the present to remind all of us, what is at stake in our 2020 Presidential election.  Dear Michael, Matthew and Delaney - Do you remember when Mom went on a bus with about 40 other women to Washington D.C. for the Million Mom March? I was upset with the the mass shootings at places like Columbine High School, and I wanted to do something, anything to make the world a better place for the three-not-so-little Piggins. I called home as the bus was pulling into DC and one of you, I can't remember, said something like, "Have you started marching yet?" I held back my laugh and tried to explain that this 'march' didn't actually mean 'marching'.  Growing up in a home where Mom and Dad supported different political parties meant you grew up listening to political dialogue that wasn't always pleasant but never per...

When I was about 10 or 11, and trying as hard as I could to be a good swimmer, I was told by the swim club's coach that some swimmers are fast and others should consider water ballet. Maybe he didn't say it exactly like that, but that was the message I heard. Up to this point, I'd managed to 'compete' in only one swim meet and that was in the exhibition lane. (For those unfamiliar with the exhibition lane, it's a designated lane usually one of the side lanes, where coaches place slower swimmers giving them a sense of what being a 'real' competitor feels like, perhaps to serve as motivation to work harder at being a faster swimmer.) I was actually stopped before I'd completed my final lap and asked to exit the pool so the next 'heat' could begin. I'm pretty sure, though memory is a tricky thing, that the next practice is when the coach shared his words of wisdom. I was already humiliated, from the meet. (I'd had to exit the pool, and...

After a recent chemo, where I was chaperoned by the always affable and charming Chris, my nurse Alicia queried “Who will be bringing you next time?” Truly, the entire oncology staff was not only charmed by Chris, they were amazed at the intricate cross stitch stocking she was working on and then awed that it was her third and final work of art.  I responded to Alicia (a new friend, really) that another friend would be bringing me and she remarked something like “you have a lot of wonderful friends”. To wit, I agree! Chris commented, “yes she does! Chemo with Kathleen!” Chemo with Kathleen. Sounds like a title to a book like "Tuesdays with Morrie" or "Me Before You", great books about friends stepping up to help a friend through illness and/or treatment. Only difference in this case would be that this sickie lives on to make more friends and to treasure the ones she has.  What I’m discovering on these chemo days, aside from all the vital medical stuff...

My oncologist walked in for our Wednesday appointment and I broke out in song, "Doctor, doctor give me the news I got a bad case of loving you . . ." She joined in for the subsequent verses! Got to love a doctor with a great sense of humor and a great singing voice. In all likelihood, there aren't many patients that greet their oncologist in song! That's me, sharing a little bit of sunshine wherever I go. It was a blustery day on Wednesday (I can hear Pooh saying Happy Winds-day!) and C-O-L-D after we had several warm and sunny days, the change did little to brighten anyone's mood. My headwrap nearly blew away when I got out of my car in the morning and that brief exposure for my nearly bald head chilled me for most of the rest of the morning. I have a greater appreciation for the warmth a full head of hair provides. One of my WW members changed my chilly disposition shortly after, however, when she gave me a hat she'd crocheted for me. It was the second ...

I've not posted anything for a few weeks. I figured that out when in the last few days I had received messages and emails and texts checking in on me or asking how I was doing. Silence, I decided, is not so golden because in that void conjecture can take it's place, good, bad or otherwise. I am doing well, still a poster child for chemo. Last week, I started the Taxol which is a lighter weekly infusion. My sister, Kelli, came in from the other side of the Lake to take me to chemo and take care of me (something she has done my whole life!). Since this initial dose starts with a large dose of Benadryl, a good nap was guaranteed and Kelli said she might take pictures of me that may or may not have included drawing on my face with a Sharpie. Thankfully, she was kidding (right Kelli?) and my nurse Alicia, who is also a middle sister, was looking out for me by telling Kelli that she didn't have any Sharpies!  Those of you with sisters understand the bond shared. And my s...