Now–I am feeling whole enough, good enough, that I can not believe I am dying of cancer. I am so grateful for this now!
peace,
nan
Sometimes
10
27
11'
Sometimes I’m Nan.
Sometimes I’m Nan, with cancer.
Sometimes I’m Nan, dying with cancer.
Sometimes I’m me.
Sometimes I am.
I embrace them all. Can you?
love,
nan
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Endings
10
25
11'
For the last several days, I’ve been watching the leaves tumble on their way to death and burial. I’ve tried to follow an individual leaf to the final resting place, but usually lose it somewhere in the branches that capture it for a pause.
A few minutes ago, a house finch began to play in the bird water–dipping her head under the water and then splashing the water in arc around the birdbath. I noted the vastness between the dying leaves and the living bird.
Now–lately–I have felt a greater affinity for the leaves than the birds.
The last chemo treatment last week was rough and I am still not feeling okay. I blame the chemo and that is certainly a major factor, but it is more. It is the unalterable loneliness. It is the unalterable depression. It is not there there are no friends who call or come or do things for me, but there is the loneliness of a killing disease, the depression of a killing disease–and more.
Today is sunny and very warm. Tomorrow is supposed to be raining and 30 degrees colder. It’s the contrast between living and dying.
More than 40 years ago, a friend committed suicide at Halloween. Every year, I am surprised by the depth of my depression when I realize the dread has arrived and why. This year, because of the cancer and the absence of my critical support, it is worse.
Perhaps the bird will come back and tempt me again.
peace,
nan
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Second opinion
09
21
11'
On Monday, I went to another cancer center here in Columbia and spoke with a resident and her attending oncologist about my cancer treatment. They affirmed the treatments my doctors are giving me and that was most gratifying. The attending also thought that I might well live longer than the 18 months to 2 years that my oncologist has estimated. The only flaw in that thinking was that he rated my general health as excellent and those of you who know me know that is not the case. At any rate, I felt better for having gotten the second opinion and knowing I am receiving the best treatment.
Yesterday was the first day of my second chemotherapy treatment cycle and lasted about 5 hours. That’s because both chemo potions (think wizard mixing ingredients in a steaming caldron) are given the first day. Today, the second day of the cycle, lasted less than two hours because only one potion was used. The potions aren’t made up until I arrive and the pharmacy is notified, so that adds to the time that the chemo is dripped into my portacath.
As each drop flows into the line into my body, I realize that it is poison. It is poison meant to kill the cancer, but because it is not well targeted, it also kills good cells. There will come a day, I’m convinced, when it will be possible to mix potions that will only kill the cancer cells. A time to celebrate!
peace,
nan
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My cancer treatment
09
15
11'
I’ve not written much about my cancer, but feel that now is the time to begin doing that–not that I’ll no longer write about other aspects of my life. My small cell lung cancer is very aggressive and I’m receiving concurrent radiation and chemotherapy. Radiation is given every Mon-Fri for about 20 minutes (not the 5 minutes I wrote in an earlier post) and chemo is for three days in a row every fourth week for four cycles for a total of 12 chemo treatments. Radiation is targeted at the cancer with some precision, but chemotherapy is inserted into the blood stream and affects both the cancer cells and the good cells in my body.
Deep fatigue is one of the major side effects of treatment. This is not the kind of fatigue that a good night’s rest lets you recover from–I wake as tired as when I went to bed. Since the chemo kills the white cells, one is more susceptible to infections and I’m now beginning to get over my first infection of the year. You’ve seen the photos of my getting my hair shaved off, which I thought preferable to picking it up off the pillow and floor as chemo caused it to fall out. I opted not to get a wig since I’ve never had to do anything with my hair other than wash and comb it and didn’t want to start fiddling with a wig! However, I have a wonderful selection of hats. Another side effect is memory changes–otherwise known as chemo-brain! At 71, I was already well into memory issues, but this has made it worse. As I wrote earlier, I can become dehydrated and have had two sessions of hydration, which is most helpful.
On Monday, I’m going to another cancer center here in Columbia for a second opinion. It seems a very worthwhile thing to do–after all there is more than one way to treat cancer. I want to choose the best treatment available.
peace and love,
nan
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with thick, wavy hair
inch long hair
- here we go–note the photographer in the mirror!
one side shaved
almost done
finished--note the lack of a huge smile!
- Elly (who did the work) and me in a fond embrace
It feels strange to not have to comb my hair when I get up in the morning. At least it’s still warm enough that I don’t have to wear a hat. Yes, people stare, but I think many understand. It’s part of the story of cancer with chemotherapy. More on that soon.
nan
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First of 2011!
09
11
11'
Here she is–the first Monarch butterfly of 2011!! Note the translucent pupa left behind.
Isn’t Nature grand!
nan
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The winner…
09
08
11'
of the “name that caterpillar” is: Paul, my wonderful nephew-in-law! It’s the milkweed tiger moth caterpillar. Here’s the picture again:
milkweed tiger moth caterpillar
And, a picture from the web of the adult milkweed tiger moth:
milkweed tiger moth
Sorry, but I’ve yet to find out how to move the pictures around–hope you can figure out which is which!
Applause for Paul!! I’ve yet to think of an appropriate trophy to award you, Paul, but I will keep thinking.
peace,
nan
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Pillarcats
09
03
11'
In my youth–long ago now–I would call caterpillars pillarcats. In honor of the passing years, I’ve reverted to that for the title of this blog!
As you likely know by now, I’m quite enamored with the butterfly cycle–from egg to caterpillar to pupa to butterfly. I have some marsh milkweed plants that attract monarch butterflies who lay eggs to begin the process. Here’s the second stage–the caterpillar–
Monarch caterpillar
followed by the third stage, the pupa. The butterfly develops in the pupa until it is ready to fly free of its last home:
almost a full pupa
free of pupa and drying wings before flying
The pictures you see here are representative of what occurred last year and so far this year. However, there is a new one on the block–a caterpillar that I am unable to identify–also using the marsh milkweed.
unknown caterpillar
If you happen to know what she is, please share that information in a comment–but I have to admit that I am just fine if she remains a mystery!
That’s one of the joys of Nature–there are mysteries that delight the eye and tease the brain and lead to all kinds of suppositions and wonderment. I am one who does not need to know, but can rest easy with the not-knowing–beauty does not need a name.
peace and joy,
nan
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