IS THIS SERIOUS?

November 2002

Serous carcinoma. What? Serious what? Not serious, serous. OK, so what’s that and why are you looking at me with death in your eyes? Well, you have two kinds of cancer, not just one. As if one's not enough! We found two types of cancer in the tissues we sent to the Stanford lab. Techs looking through microscopes at my poor uterine lining exclaiming This is SERIOUS, its SEROUS!

Well, so what? I still want to know. What does this mean for my life, or lack there of, and how do we cure it and why is it more serious than the endometrial kind? Because it’s microscopic and it spreads real eagerly, attaching itself to other parts of the body, the body encompassing the cavity around my inner girl-parts and my guts, liver, etc. You know, the so-called empty space within, not so empty as it turns out. SO, it’s a hysterectomy for me, and here, have my ovaries too. But that’s not enough, for the kicker, its six months of chemo and radiation, one to treat ovarian cancer and one to treat uterine. Six months! I need to be back in the Caribbean before that! What? What? Shit.

August 2007

In May I celebrated the 4th year of good health following that surgery and those six hellish months of chemo and radiation. It was interesting being hairless, I celebrated the entrance of Chemo Babe onto the earth. CB had no hair, anywhere, and did stand-up comedy for whoever would listen. My trigeminal neuralgia got much worse but all in all the chemo wasn’t too bad. After all, I got to sit in a special armchair with cookies, videos, my bear, books, crossword puzzles, my special totem ram horn, and my friends near by, for 4 hours at a time, while poison dripped into my veins, veins they couldn’t find and so had to pierce the backs of my hands right to left and back again.

Cancer sucks. At best its a potent source of humorous anecdotes, at worse it kills you. I lucked out with the humorous anecdotes, I'm still on the earth.
Thank God for my lap desk. I ate on it, wrote on it, propped up books and did puzzles on it. Six months in and out of bed and my favorite armchair. My feet hurt like hell and I would mince along to the phone or the bathroom, then back to the chair and my view of the river. “Ouch, oo, ouch, oo, ouch. Where’s my lap desk?”

My hair all grew back and my body still works, and now it’s in the far past. Not far enough I say to myself. Another year and I’m ‘officially’ cured. It’s hard not to want the ‘official’ designation, though I know I’m cured, and have been for a long time. What is it about medical beliefs that have us doubting our own wisdom? The structure of beliefs that make up my life is awesome and complex and no wonder I can’t make changes in any big hurry. Gee whiz. Rooting around in my brain for my beliefs, making bridges to the new ones, taking baby steps, forgiving myself, oh good grief. Where’s my lap desk?

You too can have a cool lap desk. See my website www.luxurylapdesk.com. They come in two sizes and are great for lounging and eating, writing, using your computer, or just resting at the end of a long day, a day that hopefully included some humor and play as well as work, and no chemotherapy.


May 2009:
Wow that post was two years ago. Last year at this time, May 21st, I had a five year survivor party. I cut up the huge poster Ram had made for me, of me sitting in the chemo chair, with "G and T" inserted near my water glass and a radioactive sign superimposed over the chair. I cut it up and asked friends to write about things they wanted to release, then we burned the pieces. I sat outside and read a "thank you" essay and Paul filmed it on my new digital recorder. One of the people I thanked, Mark Jackson, is dead now, died of an overdose of alcohol and a bad fall. But I am still here, and healthy, except for arthritis. My doggie died last May too, Tasha the dearest dog had cancer too. Paul and Cindy Zarzicki and I took her out to Devon's house and she "put her to sleep". I had a vision of her jumping and running after butterflies, two paths open to her, both fun and good, a field, a feeling of joy and the freedom of a perfect body. I miss you Tasha sweet friend.
I have three new kitties now, siblings, Maximus Relaximus, Michief, and Bowie. One is part Siamese, one long haired tabby, one black and white and sleek. 8 months old. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
I am new too, a new Facebooker, social networker, actress and model with Moonlight Talent. Going to be in one scene of a movie made here in Eugene, "Something Wicked." weeeeeeeeeeeeee always something new.