What Do You Do...
...when even water tastes bad? Iced tea. Iced tea with lemon. Gatorade. Crystal light. Anything with flavor. I can't even drink water now.
Posts
Death and Rebirth
A week 16 update, and not meant to be a downer, but a look forward to what's to come... No, I'm not dying. Except in the same way we all eventually are. Yes, cancer and chemo makes you think about things like this more often. But gratefully, I'm relatively healthy for my ripening 65 years. It's a new year though, and like most people I'm thinking about my life and what I'd like to change. And trying also to guess at some of the things that will change, whether I want them to or not. Some things, for sure, won't change. My love for Dave, and for family and friends who have stood by me. My sense of wonder for this amazing universe. My desire to help people and my thankfulness for those who help me. The joy of a well-turned word, the love of irony, even when it's slapping me in the face. The emotion of an unexpected hug, a fuzzy blanket and hot chocolate, the movie Airplane! no matter how many times I see it. Still, some things will change. Some of the...
Holding to the Light
For most of my life I've felt my attitude shift back and forth, like the tide, between reaching for light and clinging to darkness. The light and darkness I speak of could also be called hope and despair, or happy and sad, or nurture and decay. But I think that you understand. Sometimes against all odds I find happiness in the smallest things that the universe has set in my reach. Other times, even when surrounded with a surplus of reasons to be happy, my heart holds tight to pain, whether it's present or in the past. Why do we do this? I'm very grateful though. The balance in me is tilted toward the light. More often than not, and quite often beyond all reason, I feel good about my place in this universe. It's the same with memories with me. When I look back at the past, most of the time I look back on good times, or remember something that brings a smile to my face and warm happiness to my heart. It's not that I haven't had my share of troubles. Like the old ...
Week 8 - Seasons Change
Looks like I took a few weeks off of checking in here. Week 8 of chemotherapy means ending the second full cycle of six. So, not a rookie anymore. But not yet a veteran. That time is approaching slowly but surely. I can feel myself changing. Sometimes I can see it in the mirror too. Body-wise, here's where I am: Losing hair Maintaining weight Feel like I have the flu nearly all the time Bad taste in mouth nearly all the time Chemo fog - can't always think very well Losing balance now and then - no serious falls yet Rib pain, nearly constant, drugs help Ahem, digestive issues All in all, could be worse Mentally, I'm here: Taking my medicine Following medical advice Over it. Seriously though, this one needs more of a write-up than a bullet list. Feel free to check out here - my body is still strong and to put it in a nutshell, I'm going to make it through this, I hate feeling pathetic, and there's not a lot anyone out there can do about this other than what you're...
Week 5 - About Art
Okay, I’ve got cancer. Yes, I’m in treatment. It sucks. Enough of that. At week 5, It’s time for something completely different. All my life I’ve been an artist. I wouldn’t have said it, or said it out loud, until now. I might have wished “I wish I could be an artist.” Instead I lied to myself. “I can’t draw.” “I don’t have artistic talent.” “I wish I could make art.” We tell ourselves lies, then we go believe them. And ironically we go about our day and make art. It may not be art using the medium that most people consider “ART,” but it is no less artistic. We talk to other people, we cook, we nurture, we go to the office or the field, and we make art. Some of it is better than others, we all have good moments and good days and the other ones where we’re just hanging in there. Sometimes art is throwing towels in the dryer on a bad day, pulling them out one by one, warm and soft and fuzzy, and hugging them. And then folding them and putting them back into the closet. This i...
Week 4 Check In
My full week sleep cycle - week 1 of induction chemo We're now going on a full first month of induction chemotherapy. This phase is done in 4 week cycles, and we're told that there will be 4-8 cycles of this before we go for stem cell harvest at Swedish Hospital. The nurses at Kaiser Permanente Infusion have been great. Each week it's been a different nurse to administer the treatments, and I have had two favorites, and two who were merely good. When the worst you get is "merely good," give thanks children. We arrive, get blood taken, and go up to infusion to wait for the two chemicals to be mixed by the pharmacy. It usually takes at least an hour and a half for them to arrive at our clinic, where we've been sitting, talking and reading, and in my case, sketching and watercoloring. The nurse comes in and you lift your shirt and expose your unflattering 65-year-old tummy and they gently pinch some of the fat there and slowly, every so slowly, push an alarming l...