This is the hard part. They warned me these last two weeks may be the worse. I’ve been nauseated since Friday. Can’t eat. No energy. I make myself go outside and stand in the sun. It’s lonely. It’s unsettling. I fear I will die alone, but many of us do.
I want to hear my family’s voices.
That’s today and the past few days. This too shall pass.
In the midst of it all, I found the energy to put together the wall calendar I’ve dreamed of doing, something I could do from the comfort of my bed!
Dogs in Cars and More captures our furry friends along for the ride. Hope it puts a smile on your face.
I have a few favorites, February might be my most favorite.
2023 Dogs in Cars and More wall calendar
This past week I have been cat sitting. It’s been a nice reprieve, relaxing and very quiet. My cat sit is just a few minutes from town, with a creek running just feet from the back door. I brought all the foods I eat lately: banana, peanut butter, bread, butter, rice, baked potato (I bought a little steak, steamed the hell out of some broccoli, that went down pretty well) and crackers so I was set. Oh and ginger tea. The only thing I had to do was drive to my radiation at 2:00 each day.
Next week I’ll be at a cat sit near downtown just feet from the Clark Fork river. The week after that, back at home and my second week of the chemo pack strapped to me 24/7. Now that I know what it’s like I am so not looking forward to it. But hey I can do it! My radiation doctor laughed when I half jokingly, asked if we could check to see if the cancer was gone so maybe I don’t need another round of chemo.
I needed this week in a house by myself with such a peaceful setting and sweet kitties. Last weekend, I wrote about the birthday celebration but left out the out unfolding stress of that weekend. Living downtown sometimes brings it’s challenges, parking being one of them. Last Saturday as I drank coffee I suddenly remembered I had not moved my car from the street where the farmer’s market happens. Of course, it was gone when I went outside, in its place was a lovely family selling produce. A phone call to the towing company brought some relief as they told me my car had only been moved a few blocks. “just walk around and you will find it.” After walking two blocks east and two blocks south, I needed a rest before walking more in hopes of finding my car. I called back to ask if they keep track of where they move cars to. That would be too easy. No they don’t.
It wasn’t until Sunday that I walked around some more with no sign of car. Now I was stressing. My appointment with the chemo doctor was first thing Monday morning. It took several more phone calls for me to find out my car was at the Red’s towing lot. They are closed on Sundays but the answer service found out there was someone there. One of my favorite housemates drove me over there. We immediately began our improv act. I was his sick mother and by God my “son” was going to make things right. The young man behind the counter asked for $350 to release my car. “T’ put his arm around me, “we can’t afford that, she has medical bills”
I piped in, “I called several times yesterday and was told it was only moved a few block, now you are asking for the daily rate.” Red’s employee asked for proof, so I showed the call history on my phone. After telling him I had an appointment with the chemo doctor first thing, he asked for proof. I pulled up Mychart on the phone to show proof of the appointment. T, sticks up for me, again, “she does not need this stress right now.” Employee did start to feel bad, trying to get hold of his boss. Finally the employee assured us he would call once he heard from the boss. There was never a phone call.
Monday morning, I picked up my car just minutes before my appointment. They charged me $275, the towing fee, removing the daily rate. Unhappy, I frowned and left with my car.
I’ve since learned a few things about Red’s and towing companies. During Covid, Red’s would not allow people in to pick up their car if they were wearing a mask! Also, towing companies have free reign to tow a car from anywhere that has signs that parking is not allowed or not allowed at certain times. It seems it should be illegal to tow on a Saturday and not be able to pick up one’s car until Monday. They should have someone at the shop on Saturday’s and Sundays. It’s a scam. There could be numerous situations that would make life miserable, what if you were flying out that day or had an emergency? At least folks need to be aware of this scam and the way Red’s treats their customers. If I have the energy and can figure out who in the government to talk to, I will.
Today, I’m not going anywhere, staying put with the kitties, reading and listening to the creek (no radiation on the weekends). The kitties’s owner is a retired English teacher, books adorn several shelves. She offered for me to read any books while here. I’ve started two, enjoying both very much, The Marriage Portrait, a novel by Maggie O’Farrell, author of Hamnet and Never Simple, a memoir by Liz Scheier.
Enjoy your weekend and thanks for reading.
I baked a cake, from scratch, a chocolate very moist cake. It was easy and I am quite proud. I was able to use the nasturtiums I planted to decorate it.
One of our housemates turned 29 yesterday. Her boyfriend, who caters with a local gourmet company, cooked up chicken enchiladas, made homemade chips and verde, salad, and simple veggie appetizers for our household as part of her celebration.
Another housemate had just rearranged and freshened up our community sitting area. It was all ready to be decorated with pom poms and streamers for the party.
Bob, asked me to order a cake earlier in the week. After several calls on Wednesday we were too late. Seems there were a lot of weddings this weekend, bakeries couldn’t take any more orders. Even though I can count on one hand how many cakes I’ve baked in my 63 years on the planet, I began my internet search for best chocolate cake recipe. I honed in on one, BBC easy chocolate cake recipe, gathered the ingredients, made the so easy, so delicious icing in the morning. Baked the cake around noon. Bob was looking at me with skeptical eyes as I put the very liquidity batter filled pans into the oven. The recipe stated once you add the boiling water, “the cake mixture will now be very liquid.” I was only a little worried about how they would come out.
30 minutes later, it was a very moist and perfectly formed cake. I iced it like a pro.
Dinner was delicious. I was happy to have a decent appetite.
The cake was donned with candles, lit, carryed out to the tune of, you know, “Happy Birthday to You.” I helped slice and serve a few pieces when my body suddenly told me to go lie down. There was no arguing with it. I did get to hear the rave reviews the cake was getting.
It was really a fun day, helping with the festivities. I love the people I live with.
As I laid down with my black kitty, since I was tired, the tears just came. I wish my child and I could share special moments, laugh together. I miss her, damn it.
Life is short, life is precious, hope springs eternal, forgiveness is possible, choose love not fear.
Thanks for reading.
Friday they disconnected my chemo fanny pack for the weekend. I haven’t been that excited about a weekend since I was a teenager.
Even though I do have some side effects kicking in,
ie: nausea (under control if I stay on top of nausea medicine), low appetite, diarrhea started this weekend and mouth sores, I felt good enough to crank up the tunes, dance around my room and get some cleaning done.
To add to the excitement, at my Monday appointment to check everything; platelets, blood count, etc, I learned that I don’t have chemo for two weeks, only the daily radiation. I was dehydrated, so I sat for an hour relaxing receiving hydrating fluids. All that happens through the port. Hence, don’t have to get poked all the time.
Some of you have asked for clarification on the port and fanny pack of chemo. Below is a pic of me with the pack. I wear it over my shoulder. The tubing from the fanny pack is pretty long, runs under my shirt and into the port that’s in my chest. It’s with me 24/7 during the weeks I have it. I drive with it, sleep with, bath with it, occasionaly dance with it. Robert, the 83 year old owner of the building I live in, and I often greet each other with a jig when we meet in the hallway each morning. His positive attitude inspired me throughout his health issues during this past year. Now he is cheering me on, telling me, “well, you certainly are a trooper.”
My fellow housemates have been so sweet, offering to bring me anything, making extra mashed potatoes for me, the gift of a journal titled – 52 Lists for Calm. They didn’t even know I have a “list” writing group. My new room as of late spring is decorated, cleaned and organized. It took me all summer since I was pet sitting so much. Happy I bought the tv from the previous tenant, haven’t had a tv in years. Making good use of it now. There hasn’t been much energy to read or write. The adult coloring book that has been on my shelf for ten years is getting used for the first time and I’m cutting from magazines for collaging while watching tv. Back to the basics in the creativity department. They are comforting yet mindless activities.
That’s the update for Tuesday, October 4th.
Thanks for reading.
Appreciated the prayer posted in the hospital elevator today.
Her voice was soft and smooth as she sang quietly into the audio text I received early this morning.
A comforting made up jingle reminding me it is October 1st.
We can feel it in the air, in how the light is low in the morning and stunning in the afternoon, showing off oranges and reds, purples and pinks just before it leaves for the day.
October gives such a lovely reprieve.
The oppressive heat has lifted, school has commenced, many tourist have returned to their work/school life.
It begins to quiet down, a prelude to the peaceful stillness a winter day can bring.
The first day of chemo and radiation left me exhausted and a bit overwhelmed. Lots of information to take in. They sent me home with folders of information, a good thing since my eyes glazed over and my thoughts traveled as the nurses talked. I wanted my mama! After chemo/radiation I was sent to Partners in Health to be adorned with a fanny pack carrying my chemo. We will be be together 24/7 sans the weekend.
Yesterday as nausea set in, the thought of food repulsed me. I reminded myself this is hopefully for only six weeks. I can do this. The strawberry popsicle for dinner hit the spot and I got a good night’s sleep. Meantime, I’m to drink eight glasses of water a day, brush my teeth at least three times to help ward off mouth sores, eat small amounts of nutritious food, cut back on fiber. Other precautions are to wear gloves if gardening and change the water in flower vases daily as it can harbor bacteria. Stay away for sick people – all the things we do to protect a weak immune system.
This morning I popped my nausea medicine immediately and it seems to be working. I was able to get down a breakfast bar. It’s a sunny fall day here in Missoula. At 2:00 I’ll walk the few blocks to St. Pats for radiation. That will be good medicine and plan to do that daily (radiation is at 2:15 M-F) A friend is coming for a visit this evening bringing soup. Another friend is bringing some foods to have on hand, ie: sausage which sounds appealing, something I can cook, cut up and nibble on when needing some protein.
Thankfully I’m at home until mid-October, then to a peaceful cat sit for the rest of the month. I won’t be taking on any dog sits, just kitties, until I am pass the treatment.
I’ve always had compassion and respect for those going through the cancer journey but that is even greater now.
Thanks for reading and all your support. Love, Frances
Port has been implanted. It is a miracle that medicine has come this far, that I will not have to go get poked on regularly for chemo. For some reason, I was really nervous about the procedure. I’ve had a few surgeries: appendicitis, c-section, hysterectomy, knee surgery. For all those, I was out, under anesthesia.
I was awake for the port, given valium and numbed at the site (near right collarbone). The “cocktail” nurse was right by my side offering up any cocktail that might be needed. Another attending nurse, asked if I wanted music, “sure” I said. I was smiling, rocking my feet back and forth, taken back to good times with my high school/college sweetheart as Earth, Wind and Fire sang September. No telling how many times we danced to Earth, Wind and Fire even seeing them live in Memphis. My sweetheart is no longer alive. Maybe it was the valium, but I sensed he was with me, letting me know it would all be OK. I trust him, it was all fine.
Cancer has made me hyper aware of when love is present. Friends from as far back as elementary school have reached out offering support, my community of local friends check in regularly offering any help I may need, house mates take me out for a high protein meal before the pet scan. Packages of goodies show up from an out of town friend. Our house cat who prefers to sleep at the end of my bed (no snuggling) has been making a habit of laying right next to my bum.
Yesterday, a sunny fall day, I walked a few blocks to pick up my car at the hospital. From the middle of the crosswalk, I heard my name blaring out of a car. The boys I occasionally watch were waving arms, yelling, excited to see me in this random place, sharing they had been in the homecoming parade earlier. A couple of more blocks, I ran into a dear friend’s son. We hugged while he announced he would be bringing me houseplants to purify the air.
It’s another clear fall day. I think I’ll take a stroll, watch for love, feed a cat and head to Fact & Fiction at 5:00 for Second Wind reading with Chris LaTray and Mark Schoenfeld.
Chemo/radiation begin tomorrow. I’ve been told side effects may not take effect for a week. Maybe they won’t be too bad.
I have some low key cat sitting gigs lined up. They will be a welcomed distraction.
Thank you all for reading. Watch out for love out there.
Good news – the pet scan showed no spread of cancer, only stage 2 anal cancer.
I was to get chemo port implanted tomorrow but it is now on Thursday, September 22nd (some problem with the room they use, my chemo doctor was not happy about that). Chemo and radiation will begin Monday the 26th. Treatment should be for six weeks if all goes well. Radiation is daily Monday-Friday, only for about 15 minutes. It’s a 10 minute walk from where I live, which will make for a nice stroll.
Meantime, I often feel tired, dealing with some pain and digestive issues. Today, a doctor’s appointment and lots of phone calls with doctor’s office to reschedule everything. That takes it out of me.
Self care is resting, drinking lots of water, eating healthy, soaking in the bathtub, reading and streaming series and movies.
A couple of friends from Eugene came through Missoula this week. Our few hours together were filled with hugs, laughter and tears – good medicine. They took snapshots as I gave them a tour of the colorful, funky, one of a kind, historic community building I live in.
I am so thankful for my supportive community, friends and excellent team of medical care.
For ease of communication, I will continue to share updates here.
I’ll leave you with a link to Suleika Jaouad’s Isolation Journals newsletter including writing prompts from guest writers. She is an inspiration as she continues to create through her journey with leukemia.
Isolation Journals
Prompt from Sophie Blackall:
Make a list of things to look forward to. Include big things if you’d like, but also the small everyday things that buoy your spirits, make you laugh, make you feel alive.
She also suggest,
If you have an egg in your house, you can draw a face on it. No one will stop you. Then you will look forward to opening the fridge.
“Hello, Egg!” you’ll say.
You will amuse yourself no end. Trust me.
Thanks as always for reading.
Frances
A couple of weeks ago, I discovered I have something in common with Farah Fawcett and Marcia Cross (red head from Desperate Housewives) – anal cancer.
Marcia Cross has become a spokesperson for this becoming more common cancer. It stems from the HPV virus which 80% of us are walking around with. She speaks openly, encouraging others to do the same after learning that many hide their true diagnosis due to embarrassment.
I knew something wasn’t right for a few months. Thought it was hemorrhoids but the pain kept getting worse. My primary care doctor sent me to a surgeon after attempting to do an exam but I almost flew off the table. She did feel a little something. I almost flew off the surgeon’s table too. He scheduled to put me under in order to do the exam.
After the procedure, the person who phoned my friend, who was picking me up, told her the doctor would be talking to me saying, “he did a biopsy and it could be cancer.” Whoever he was needs to read up on his HIPAA – yes I will let the doctor know this happened. The doctor did not speak to me before I left. My friend felt terrible after telling me this. The results I received via email one evening confirmed it. Dr. Acher, the surgeon, phoned the next morning. In his compassionate doctor voice he let me know the treatment is a combo of radiation and chemo. No surgery since it sits right on the sphincter. “The oncologist will be calling to set up your appointment. I will see you for your follow up mid September.”
I’ve met with the chemo doctor, I had her for my iron infusions a year ago. Love her. Later the same day met with my radiation doctor. Love her too. In her southern accent, we discussed dogs, the complexities of the South and photography as much as we talked of treatment.
This Wednesday I have a pet scan with results on Thursday to assure the cancer is contained.
Radiation begins the next Monday, every weekday for about 25 treatments. A port for chemo will be implanted in my chest receiving continuous chemo. (not sure for how long)
There is great success with this combination. Since learning my diagnosis I am learning of others who had this and came out the other side. Though, they all say the process is brutal: digestive issues, fatigue, maybe mouth sores and loss of hair.
I’m getting my ducks in a row in order to rest when needed.
Before my diagnosis, I had registered to hear Mark Nepo speak on his new book, Surviving Storms this past Sunday online. Almost everything he said I needed to hear.
Conversation with Mark Nepo, Surviving Storms
Mind as a Keyhole by Mark Nepo
Beneath the cloud,
everything is grey.
Above the cloud,
everything is light.
Calling the cloud unfair
is being a victim.
Trying to conquer the cloud
is being a hero.
Calling the cloud a cloud
is the beginning of peace.
May we all love each other forward as Mark suggest.
Thanks for reading, Frances
Fscottwrites 