There Is No Stage Five

It wasn't until we got home from the hospital yesterday that I realized that it was my one year anniversary with chemo. Leannda asked me to find the picture from Day 1. Scrolling through my phone, I laughed when I looked at Leannda and she was wearing the same sweater, and I was wearing the same shirt on Day 1 that I wore to the Maggie Rogers concert on Tuesday night, chemo day 365.  As years have gone by, touch points have arrived throughout my cancer journey and Maggie's music has turned out to be one of them. (And maybe Leannda's sweater and my shirt?) The month before my surgery in February 2019, Heard It in a Past Life was released, and in that month, I played the hell out of it. To make the point, the CD(!) is still in my car that has a CD player(!) and it will forever live there. This lead me to an earlier album (The Echo, also absurdly masterful), where I found "Satellite" and played it over and over in the February snow, waiting for my surgery date. There...

I feel increasingly lucky to have the paths between the feet of tall trees to go for walks. It's moving meditation. Heart-shaped things on these walks have become my breadcrumbs. I'll find them like an acknowledgment, a sly little wink, before they change shape as I pass and the heart transforms into just two leaves, just the bark of the tree, just a rock in the trail, just a slippery footprint. It’s a sweet little yes. Yes, this is exactly where you should be. Yes, I see you. Yes, you saw me. But if I look back at it, my perspective is different, and the heart isn’t there anymore. It’s only…forest. Just because it isn’t, doesn’t mean it wasn’t.   It’s one of my favorite things. I had new scans in June, so at my last chemo appointment, in a most unceremonious way, a new-to-me nurse practitioner reported that my scans were stable and bloodwork looked perfect. Not even a trophy, and even a certificate of participation.   Stable and shiny is so fucking hard fought.   I’d had...

 Oh dear.  Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. You know what looks really bad?? A BLOG about CANCER that HASN'T BEEN UPDATED IN 6 MONTHS !!! Hands up if you thought mine bucket hath been klonked! I've been writing quite a bit and sometimes even think it'll turn into an update for the BLOG about  CANCER  that  HASN'T BEEN UPDATED IN 6 MONTHS,  but then it becomes something more for myself than for public consumption and so here we are. Not great at the updates, but very much alive and thriving. Did I mention that chemo and I are going to do this little dance for- maybe -ever? Sometimes I want to know how long forever is, and sometimes I don't, so I'm still not sure how to answer the question when asked. "Indefinitely" pops out most often, while I squelch, "I guess as long as I want to keep waking up in the morning? *shrug*" Too dark? Ok, fine. Hi, do you need a walk? The very, very good news: I've finagled my way into a longer cycle between infusi...

I'm so grateful to be going through treatment at this time of year.  The trees and I look the same.  Familiar, but different.  Shedding old seasons, quiet, hibernating, but very, very much surviving.  Except for darling sharkoma, who has been greedily slurping its chemo and then complaining why it feels dead inside.  Bottoms up, y'all!  Happy New Year! If you were to ask me if I'm superstitious, there would be a long pause before a 50:50 shot at answering yes or no.  (I'm also a libra, so tralala) Sometimes it's just a little thing that can make the difference in happiness, confidence, whatever.  Keeping things the same for the sake of familiarity is sometimes all ya got.  I hesitate sometimes to write an update because things change--and have changed SO many times--that I feel like I'm just telling you about the same rollercoaster ride that I keep taking turns on except maybe its painted a different color.  Alas, that's just the truth o...

 The number of drafts that I have unpublished between the last episode of The Cancer Show and now is fairly ridiculous.  I'm not without millions of little and big updates, but also, the update that I really want hasn't happened yet.  The cancer free update remains elusive.  I've talked to a lot of new doctors who have their own thoughts about what to do and what not to do, and also not to forget, what they can legally talk about and what they can't.  It all boiled down to a wicked case of cancer fatigue.   Ask 10 doctors about how to treat/therapize/blast into orbit a few sarcomas and you'll get 50 answers.  At least.  While I've never felt the need to vilify cancer, I can say, it does suck because no one (NO ONE) knows how to cure it.  Some things work beautifully for some people and those same things are completely ineffective (or worse) in someone else.  Meanwhile, time goes by and friends are rediagnosed, some are lost to cance...

I was really bad at calculus.  Like deer in the headlights, what in the world language is this? awful at calculus.  (Umm, I was also maybe a little casual about showing up all of the time, and I *ahem* accidentally missed the day that basically explained everything and from then on out I was pretty screwed, so go to class, kids.)  It took 2 drops and 3 semesters, but I finally found a professor and a tutor that helped it make sense--calculus is a puzzle, and it was nearly fun!  I think I ended up with a B- in the class and that was like winning the freakin' olympics!                             At this point, I have a collection of medical oncologists getting dusty on the shelf and none of them could make the cancer puzzle work for me.  Earlier this week, I had another consult at Fred Hutch (a cancer research/treatment center in Seattle with a sarcoma specialty group, formerly the SCCA) with y...