Only 6 more!

Bone tired and burned brittle but thrilled to be in the home stretch.

The wrong time and the wrong place

At the same time the residents of Hanford, Washington are coming forward with information about the devastating effects of radiation exposure, I am lying on a table in Seattle, Washington, tattoos aligned with the redlines shooting from a machine, allowing radiation to be poured into my body. I know without a doubt that in the future there will be a better, safer treatment. I am a child of my time. Really glad it's not leeches!

Friends Don't Let Friends....

I wrote before about my "friend" who won't stop trying to engage the cancer conversation. I am now pretty sure she continues her campaign just so I will have a place to put any pent up anger. This weekend over pancakes at a local restaurant, she started again. I told her again: I am not talking to you about this. Pouting apology. "Well I want to support you." Well then, shut up and  pass the syrup."

Then there's Susan. She pops in with a meal just as I decide I am too exhausted to cook. She decides to fix a closet door that won't latch properly. She says: get your jacket, we're going to see Godzilla. We will eat popcorn and scream in terror and laugh at ourselves for watching this ridiculous movie with a theater full of nine year old boys!"

And my neighbor Bruce who checks in just to say hi. And Joyce who calls regularly and sends  me her birding photos. And Paula who leaves sweet messages of encouragement that I save and listen to over and over. And my work pal who calls for advice. And Katie who sends soup for my freezer. And my sister who has figured out the time difference so that her texts arrive just as I finish my Daily treatment. And my sweet daughter who thinks of surprises and shows up randomly at the beginning or end of a treatment with flowers, a hug, an ice cream cone.

I am so blessed.

Forever is not Always Forever

Right after this all started, I got to thinking about FOREVER. And it occurred to me that my daughter would have very few photos of me in her forever.  It became my immediate priority to get some good likeness made before I jumped into cancer treatment. I knew the name of a very good photographer, but nothing about her except that she was about my age. She invited me to walk with her and her camera at 5pm when the light is "just right."  We met at a coffee shop. What followed was a stoll through an old picturesque part of the city with a fascinating tall woman who talked non stop while snapping pictures of me, the movie star.  Self consciousness disappeared because there was no way out.  There is more to this story besides great photos. Saved for another day is the story of  Danielle, the tall silver haired lady photographer who used to be Dan, the dashing Emmy winning photo journalist who shot pictures hanging from helicopters.

I Will Not Be Killed By The Cure

Today was my planning meeting with The Radiator. He is a smart young doc who looks a lot like Cary Agos (Good Wife) i.e. way younger looking than he could possibly be. Scans and measurements, a "cast" made so that I will be in precisely the same position every time I come for treatment, and four tiny permanent tattoos to ensure that they don't aim the beam in a way that might fry my heart. All a bit surreal, but I can't escape the idea that one day advanced science will look back at this treatment as barbaric.

But. Let's talk about tattoos. I never thought I would have one. Now I have four.

Pick a little. Chew a little.

So this blog isn't suddenly going to be all about cancer, but right now that is my experience so there may be a post or two or more.  Right now I am feeling pretty lucky to have very good friends and family to support me on this journey.  And now for the rant: my friends fall into two categories close and casual. I love my close friends and they love me and understand my quirks, insecurities and need to be in charge of my own life. They let me be selfish or lavish with information and they know when to hug and when to back off.  They tell me they will blunder but only out of love and a wish to "be there" for me. They call regularly, bring food and offer distraction. The rant is about a casual friend who upon hearing of my diagnosis came bounding into my life with gushing compassion, and a never ending set of questions..the worst being "what stage is it?"  Look lady. I don't know you. Why do you need to know that about me? Why would you ask? Why do you need to sort out in YOUR head information I did not volunteer? Why do you annoy me so much? Why do you get all pouty when I say:" I know you are trying to be helpful, but your probing interview questions are unwelcome. Please let me share only what I choose. " Why do you a day later send me a text saying "please tell me about your treatment. Does it hurt?"  Delete. Delete. Delete.

When Out of a Rose Colored Sky

So you're going along. Doing your thing. And then you're not. Routine mammogram. Lets do another image. Will do an ultrasound.  And then a needle biopsy. Let us send you home with this ice pack and these cut flowers tied with a pink ribbon. Please see your regular doctor  doctor next week. Thanks for coming in, I'm sorry you have to deal with this. Here is the name of a surgeon, she's very good.  MRI, bloodwork, surgery, healing. Waiting. Post op: here is the name of an oncologist. Thanks for coming in I will be your oncologist. Here is the name of you radiologist. See him next week. In six weeks you will be back to normal.  Your new normal. Going along. Doing your thing.

Not Your Daughter's Jeans

Well Thelma (size4) and Louise ( size 4+10) never ever shopped together for clothes. Not in over 60 years.  Not, that is, until the Great American Roadtrip of 2013. Out of the blue Thelma (size 4) blurts out something like..."You NEED to buy different jeans. You look like an old lady. an old bag lady."

You might imagine that Louise, the bigger and older sister, would have some thoughts about this sudden and uncharacteristic breach of the silent code of sisters who have long since made a troubled peace with the fact that they live in very different bodies.  (The celiac body of a woman who eats only almonds and dates, and the more substantial body of a woman who LIVES FOR Costco hot dogs!)

When my face stopped burning and the normal pasty white had returned to my cheeks, I (Louise) refrained from the very familiar snarky retort that had served me well between my 11th and 15th year on earth.  (The six word sentence that had always sent Thelma screaming to our mom.)  Proud of myself for being the more evolved one, I opened my heart and followed my sophisticated rich Republican sister into a clothing store.

Where .... Thelma, like a senior Daisy Buchannin, began tossing pairs of jeans my way. "These are the Jeans for you!"  NOT YOUR DAUGHTER's JEANS...are made for women of all sizes who are perhaps older but definitely want to be stylish.  I actually could not believe the difference in the way they fit and looked.  And just to sweeten the deal, size 14 was too big, size 12 too big too. I bought two pair just because it was so much fun to believe for a few minutes each day that I am a woman who wears size 10 in something besides shoes. I think I hugged my sister.

The Roadtrip is over and so is this saga. Today Thelma is back in DC saving the Government and Louise is back in Seattle wearing sassy jeans and planning a trip to Costco.

 I am pretty sure our mom would be delighted to see that her girls have finally begun to realize that they come from the same genes.

Thelma and Louise and the Fancy Dancy Can Opener

One day during this road trip adventure Thelma and Louise were left alone in cousin Roxie's house with a can of tuna, some gluten-free bread, a bag of almonds and an apple.  Given the lack of food during various parts of this trip, Thelma decided we would make Tuna sandwiches. Easy and quick, right? All went well until we tried to get the tuna out of the can and realized together we were two thirds of the three stoogettes. The thing that looked like a can opener simply had no way to attach to a can. We tried everything including slamming the can with the handle. We sisters beyond sixty laughed at ourselves until we were both honking and gasping for breath..all the while sputtering "there's GOT to be a way to do this that doesn't involve calling Roxie"(and exposing our total ineptitude .)  About to give up and just eat bread,almonds and apple, Thelma and Louise plopped down at the table in despair...when Thelma shouted "GOOGLE!" And Louise shouted "YOU-TUBE!"...tripping over each other in perfect LucyEthelness  we ran to get our iPads and raced to the solution. And that is almost the end of the story. Google identified the pampered chef miraculous can opener made for old people who have tired hands, and utube had a step by step video which we followed exactly. It only took four tries. Soon Thelma and Louise were enjoying the best tuna sandwiches we could remember, and the fancy Dancy can opener was back in its place in Roxie's perfect kitchen.

Roadtrip Saga ...Thelma and Louise and the Backyard Wedding

The property was transformed. The Original Hilton and Hilton on the Hill (two old shacks at the back of the property usually used for storage but frequently called into service as sleeping quarters for visiting cousins when we were all kids) been painted barn red with white trim and sported new tin roofs.  The wedding arch at the crest of the hill was laced with fall flowers, corn husks and colored leaves. Beyond the arch the hills and mountains were ablaze in all their fall glory.

Family from everywhere arrived in wedding wear and cowboy boots for this unique country wedding.
The young bride and her groom had planned every detail and I know they we pleased with their ceremony. The processional up the hill was like an old fashioned tradition of family and friends accompanying the couple on the walk to the church. Pictures of the missing grandmothers and aunts were brought along at the couple's insistence. The vows were personal and deep. Very very sweet.

Forty six years ago this bride's mother, Andi,  was a beautiful nine year old junior bridesmaid at my wedding. CousinAndi was the youngest of all the cousins, and the sweetest and most beloved.  She grew up to be a wonderful mother and all of her kids are smart, gracious and kind and adore their mom.  I know it was a bittersweet day for her.

And then there was a real party!!! A pig roast in the front yard, a bar in the backyard, a huge tent in the side yard alive with hundreds of tiny white lights and gold glittering mason jar candle holders. Buffet dinner, toasts that had us laughing and crying and cheering, and of course cake and cupcakes. And then the dancing began.

This is a family that LOVES to dance. Lots of country music and moves that haven't quite made it to Seattle or McLean,Va, but Thelma and Louise did their best!! Until they couldn't. We did notice that sixty year old cousin Linda (Linda of red convertable fame) was out dancing almost everyone...and almost everyone was much much younger.  In her cowboy boots and leather cowboy hat she was a great reminder that we need to grab happiness and live our dreams.

And that's what Thelma and Louise want for young Ashley and her man Brandon. Happiness and dreams come true.

More from Thelma Louise Road Trip

Continued Highlights
1. Visiting the cemetery to celebrate the three grand ladies of the best generation: my mother, my aunt Eleanor, and their lifelong best friend, "aunt" Norma.  All lived into their nineties, all died within the last three years, and all were mothers to all of us.
2. Meeting up with my brother. We three siblings sat in the sun until the wind was pretty strong. We had quite a laugh when we realized that there was no longer one of the grand ladies to tell us to get out of the wind! Being together reminded all of us that we three kids are now the older generation.
3. Riding the campus tour bus with my siblings and driver guide cousin  Roxie. VIP treatment that the mothers would have adored.
4. At Roxie's invitation visiting the "Norma Jewelry Store" in the garage and choosing pieces from aunt Norma's vast collection of costume jewelry before it goes in a garage sale. ( Think: ninety year collection of a woman who never ever left the house without at least five accessories! )
5. Finding gluten free bar food for my sister so that we didn't have to have another meal of almonds and dates.
6. Laughing till we cried late into the night at Roxie's kitchen table just like our mothers did for decades. Roxie reminded us that our mothers would have had three forks, a pan of macaroni and cheese, and a pecan pie.  No plates. We were back to snacking on almonds and dates out of regard for my sister.
More tomorrow.

Thelma and Louise do it up right! Chapter 1

Things I liked best about my trip to the Northeast.
1. Selected for the no extra screening line. No shoe,jacket,belt,laptop removal. Just me and the old fashioned walk-through, have a nice flight m'am.
2. Aisle seat, nonstop flight.
3. Washington DC night landing and drive past all the lighted monuments.
4. Hysterical seven hour road trip with my amazing sister. Not quite Thelma and Louise, but close.
5. Road trip lunch provided (within sight of a mcdonalds) by aforementioned sister: gluten free cracker, six almonds and a date.
6. Northeast fall color, can't be beat.
7. Arrival at cousin Linda's followed by immediately jumping into her red convertible, top down, for a real Thelma and Louise adventure in her tiny upstate New York town.
More tomorrow.

Another Wedding

The wedding yesterday was perfect.
 Friends and family smiled, wept, and applauded as the fabulous couple came down the aisle with their two grown and highly successful children. Their "best people"  each spoke of the family and community this couple had built over the years: the game nights, beach weeks, pickle ball tournaments, water balloon marathons, dinners, parties. They remembered how this family had opened their arms and home to each person now blessing the marriage.  This remarkable couple  have "been there" for so many; last year they took turns being present for every surgery, radiation and chemotherapy session for one friend, sat with another during the last days of his wife's illness, co-signed loans, househunted, delivered meals, and painted rooms for more than a few of us!  They raised their beautiful smart children to be generous and conscientious citizens who are outgoing and inclusive.  Handsome son Alex thanked his parents for the gift of his life, "and the greatest gift of all;you taught me how to love. " Not a dry eye in the room.

In this summer of weddings and beautiful happy couples, this wedding was particularly joyous.
Nora and Susan, have had to wait 32 years to be legally married.  I say it's about time.

I could sell these things

I have had my I pad for over a year now and I have to say, I rarely, if ever, ever use my pc. With my age appropriate dimming eyesight it is thrilling to instantly and easily enlarge just about anything. I love the convenience and the versatility ...and the portability as I prop it on a cookbook stand to read recipes as I cook or watch movies in odd places. I can pop it in my bag when I go to a meeting  and I am hardly aware of the few ounces of extra weight. No worries about viruses ever. The auto correct is a bit fruits (frustrating) though.

I Post

I love my I's!! I pad, I phone.
With a pinch or a sweep
Print becomes readable,
Pictures clear.

Yoga Confession

Somewhere between beginning breathing and savasana I plan  lunch.

All is well

So last week I was beginning  a right turn and barely moving when a child on a bike darted in my path. I was able to stop ( because I was barely moving) and did not hit the child. Unfortunately the truck behind me ( more than barely. Moving!! And way too close ) rear ended my sweet new car. Because I have always been adept at visioning what might have been, I immediately thanked. God that my car was not thrown into the child.  Then I got out to look at the damage and meet the truck driver who was saying "wet roads, stopped fast oh not much damage, not claiming on my insurance"
My bumper will need to be replaced and his insurance will pay. And nobody died.

Who's That on the Cake?

A few weeks ago I unearthed my "wedding box." Items carefully packed away after my June 1967 wedding included:

1. Wedding dress - still in perfect condition even though it had not been drycleaned or trated but simply been wrapped in tissue for 46 years.

2. Beaded headpiece and veil....something my liberated daughter would NEVER have remotely considered wearing!

3. My sister's pink maid of honor dress marked size 14w (We laughed when she tried it on her currently size 6, 60 year old body and couldn't zip it!)

4. Turquoise penoir set with miles of chiffon and ribbons. (Really, I mean really, I can't imagine that I ever wore that to bed.

5. Posed photos of family and guests.

6. Photo of the mother of the bride, my dear mom, in a dress she made and a very stylish hat that today looks like an inelegant lampshade.

6. The cake topper: two plastic figures standing under a plastic arch and looking really miserable. 

Things I learned from the wedding pictures

1. Smiling naturally at a camera is very unnatural to me. And it shows.
2. I seem to be much shorter than I used to be.
3. I should probably wear eye makeup all the time.
4. With high enough heels and pointed enough toes I still have pretty fine legs.
5. A woman of a certain age should NEVER try to cover her bare arms with a shawl or wrap of any sort,even a fancy one.
6. The bride and groom were lovely,happy and picturesque.

Toast Post

This weekend I got a toaster oven.  Today I ate a lifetime of toast.