- Midwest, USA
- May 20
- At the midpoint of the journey's life
I found myself lost in a dark forest
with no straight path I could see anywhere.
M.L. Rosenthal's translation of Dante's La Commedia Divina
Diagnosed with ovarian and bladder cancers, I received an entirely new subject for writing and a challenge to intensify the second half of my life.
MY RECENT POSTS
- Anniversary Month
February 08, 2014 09:18PM
- Another Year, Another Surgery
January 11, 2014 05:17PM
- One of the Lucky Ones
September 22, 2013 09:04PM
- Outsourcing the Fear
August 21, 2013 07:12PM
- The Single Woman's Great Fear
June 17, 2013 10:09AM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “Well said and helpful.
We bipeds just don't
March 03, 2014 08:38PM
- “Sweet--thanks, JMac! and
to you also!”
February 10, 2014 07:18PM
- “What a lovely blend of
words and photos! thank
February 08, 2014 09:26PM
- “Glad to hear this news.
You might think about
February 08, 2014 09:22PM
- “Prayers for you both.
Thank you for writing and
know and be a part
February 02, 2014 07:35PM
- MY LINKS
It was a lovely thing to wake up and know I was not facing chemo again—hopefully never, but at least not any time soon. The carboplatin was easier, but I was queasy the next morning.
My chemo nurse, Linda, and I considered crying when I left. I… Read full post »
On April 19, 2007, facing my fourth round of chemo I wrote that I went to sleep, wearing one of the three new hats sent to me by a woman I’ve only spoken to on the phone. She’s the receptionist at the company I’m freelancing for, and she has/… Read full post »
Round 4, 2007
One of the hidden blessings of chemo is seeing old friends in new ways. Today Marie used part of a vacation day to take me to and from chemo. So far, she’s coordinated meals right after my surgery, come by… Read full post »
When confronted with human suffering, on any scale, the impulse is to do something. I understand this—I have it myself. Right now, I’m feeling sick enough, however, that I don’t want helpful, doing folk aroun… Read full post »
I am the Ancient Mariner, and this is my blog.
Cancer is my albatross, and I will never be free of it. You might think that the albatross is my Stage III ovarian cancer, often called “deadly,” because five-year survival rates are statistically stuck at… Read full post »
We laugh in the chemo room—you mustn’t imagine us as always somber. We laugh at the nurses when they miss a vein or port. We tell funny stories of our lives before chemo. We laugh at the symptoms we have—ann… Read full post »
Just five years ago, I had cradle cap. At 55. Medically speaking, those itchy sores on my scalp were known as folliculitis—yet another new vocabulary word for my growing lexicon of cancer-related words. Nurses recommend… Read full post »
Well-behaved women, we sit in our recliners, betraying our discomfort only with the occasional grimace as needle pierces vein. We should all be keening in our chairs, moaning, not-so-silently screaming, but we act as if we are ladies being served high tea instead of lab rats being chemically… Read full post »
The first short Friday of chemo did not begin auspiciously. Linda, the chemo nurse that day, had trouble accessing my vein (each failure hurt) and another patient’s port. Finally another nurse put the needle int… Read full post »
“Don’t change a hair for me
Not if you care for me
Stay little valentine stay
Each day is Valentine’s Day.”
Lorenz Hart, lyrics
I had no plans for Valentine’s Day, 2007, wasn't awar… Read full post »
I always overpack for a trip, especially if I’m traveling by car. How should I know if I’ll want to wear the blue sweater or the olive jacket in a few days? Will I need a skirt? How about an umbrella? Shouldn’t there be some snacks, just in… Read full post »
Chemo makes your eyeballs swell.
It sounds like a school yard taunt, but the man who told me so—in a much more adult fashion—was a doctor.
When I travel somewhere I’ve not been, I’m the one who gets Fodor’s guides and reads up on the place,… Read full post »
At the chemo information session I attended after the port was inserted, I was given a navy blue portfolio folder, its dual pockets stuffed with handy information, including several brochures about losing one’s hair and getting a wig. Three different local businesses offered me $10 off or a fre… Read full post »
I was taking my time to process the realities of cancer; three-week lags seemed to be about the right speed. That time span was required for an appointment with the gynecologic oncologist, to schedule surgery (because I refused to be in the hospital on Thanksgiving), and to get… Read full post »
Five years ago this week, I woke up in recovery, afraid to slide my hand under the sheets. My recently acquired gynecologic oncologist had told me that if the large (4 x 4 x 6) mass on my left ovary were cancer, he would put in an abdominal port for chemotherapy… Read full post »
Just as every body is different and every body’s cancer is different, every doctor, hospital, and treatment plan is different. But this is the only way I know, based on IV/IP [intravenous/intraperitoneal] chemo for ovarian cancer in 2007. I had five rounds [of a projected six, but… Read full post »