When Life Gets in the Way

I'm going to be busy for the next several months. Some of it good, some not so much.

When I put this up a month ago, I had no idea how much those words would come to mean to me.

I’ve been waiting to tell you all about what’s been going on lately until I knew for sure about what was going on. First the good news: I’m taking my first trip overseas next month—to England and Scotland. I’m going with my son, Jeff, and we’ll be there for two weeks. I’m excited! I’ll take pictures and send missives as we travel, but I’ve heard the internet could be bad in some spots so if I seem to be missing, it won’t be because we’ve been kidnapped by America-hating natives, it’ll just be because we’re out of range.

Now for the not-so-good news: My breast cancer has come back. It showed up in a mammogram and since then I’ve had an ultrasound, a pet scan, and an MRI of my brain. After many sleepless nights and lots of finger-chewing, I finally heard from my oncologist today that the tumor hasn’t spread and that, even at my age, I will be receiving chemo.

I never thought I’d be excited about chemo (been there, done that, it sucks) but my surgeon tells me this type of cancer responds well to it and could even destroy the tumor, never to be seen again. If it doesn’t, they’ll remove what’s left of it surgically.

Now, about ‘my age’. I’ll be 88 on September 17. I don’t think of myself as that old, until something comes along—like cancer—to remind me that I am, indeed, that old. My oncologist admitted to me that she struggles with the idea of giving me chemo because chemo behaves differently on ‘the elderly’ and they have to proceed with caution. Sometimes they choose not to use it at all. Still, she also admits that I’m a ‘good 87’ (her words) and she knows how strong I am. And stubborn. Instead of the 100% dosage she would normally give, she’ll be giving me 50% over four to six months. That’s a damn long time.

Which is why I’ve chosen to tell you all of this. I don’t know how much any of this will affect my writing here. It already has, since my mind has often been elsewhere and my thoughts tend to come in bits and spurts. I’ve managed to spit out some thoughts on Notes almost every day, but deeper pieces have fallen by the wayside as I’ve tried to deal with this most unwelcome news.

This may startle you a bit, but I’m thankful that I have the Trump regime to distract me. When I let my anger and my frustration out on that vicious mob I feel as if I’m doing something. Cancer be damned. I’m on a mission!

Oddly enough, the same thing happened with my first breast cancer. I got word that I had cancer in October of 2016 and began the testing, etc., right after Trump ‘won’ the election. Again, my fury found a home. It was just the distraction I needed to keep from being totally terrified.

It’s been more than eight years since my first cancer, requiring a radical mastectomy, and I thought maybe I could go on hiding from it forever. But cancer had other ideas. Life itself has its own ideas. We just follow along. Sometimes if we challenge it and if we’re stubborn enough we can beat it back, keep it at bay.

That’s my plan now. So if I’m not as attentive, as vocal in the next few months you’ll know why. I’ll keep you posted on my progress but until the world stops this craziness and gets back to normal, whatever that might be, I’ll be working overtime to keep everything on an even keel. I may be here more than I think.

But you can bet I’ll find time to enjoy myself, too. That’s what makes life worth living.

Carry on, friends, and I will, too.

Sunset at Cat Harbor, Keweenaw Peninsula, Lake Superior. It beckons, and if I’m lucky I’ll see it again next summer.

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