Cancer is only part of my journey

"I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable...but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing." - Agatha Christie Boy,  Dame Agatha knew more than how to poison your neighbor, kill the cook and inspire one's little grey cells (said in my best Hercule Poirot voice.) Being alive is a grand thing. I'll admit it freely. I truly dislike whiners. You know the type. People who go on and on about their problems.  Once I knew a woman who had survived breast cancer back when suffers readily succumbed to it. As my beloved mother had been one of those, it was a particular touchy subject with me. Yet, despite a full recovery never did Mary express joy, much less gratitude, of her extended life  Within minutes of meeting a new person she would state her former cancer status. Folded newspaper clippings of breast cancer  statistics regularly pulled from her wallet served to embarrassed, bore or both those readers

We all have moments of despair during our cancer battles. No worries as it is natural. Thinking of myself as a force of nature is comforting. Personal earthquakes will always occur. Thankfully, I have learned to rock and roll with them. So can you.

Do you really like being in the shadows? Dark places where gloom grows and fear lurks? Cancer is a scary part of our lives. Please do not let the dread overwhelm you. Poet Walt Whitman worked in hospitals during the American Civil War. He witnessed first hand the human body under extreme duress. Yet, he was able to write this. It might sound corny, but this is achievable by all. Those of us who regularly have sun-filled faces can attest to the positive power imparted.

Chamomile  tea warming by my bedside while a massaged glob of  lavender-infused  lotion disappears into my hands. Meditation music at the mere touch of a button ready to lull me into deep and restful slumber.  Insert diabolical laughter here. Too bad the steroids, I am currently taking to combat the nasty  Rheumatoid arthritis   side effects of Keytruda, are working against my desired result. That pesky Prednisone primed to keep me upright and awake into the morning's early hours is my new norm. Aside from the above, I've tried the old standards like reading in bed, wearing an eye mask and counting sheep. The latter proved really bad idea. Prednisone also sends my appetite soaring. Visions of fluffy ovis quickly transformed into succulent grilled lamb chops before they cleared the fence. I have no need to complain. Despite retaining constant under eye bags, steroids have failed to give me an over abundance facial hair or muscles.  As to the loss

I'm passing this along for anyone who can travel to France 03-08 August and is a Buddhist or has an interest in it. My dear and wonderful friend Ayya Jayati will be speaking.  I got to know her very well when she was living/teaching at a vihara in the same Northern California town as me. Her warmth, vast sense of humor and calming wisdom are a delight. When chemo stole my hair, she joked that we had the same barber. (Buddhist nuns are bald.) She is back in he UK, but we email and speak often. She is a definite part of my healing team. I am unable to travel then, but if you do get to meet this lovely woman, be sure to tell her you are one of my "Cancer Tumor Humor" buddies.

"Gratitude is the capacity to stare doubt, loss, chaos and despair right in the eye and say, ‘I am still here.’"  Diana Butler Bass

Never think that your cancer diminishes your ability to make change for the positive.

Question? How many of you walk with eyes of wonder rather than boredom? Granted, the latter can seem easier and cooler to do. However, the former delivers so much that makes life richer in a multitude of ways. Cancer gives us the perfect excuse to wake up each morning WITHOUT anticipation of an adventure. I feel miserable. I am so tried. I don't want too try/learn something new with all the other new stuff going on. I'm going to die soon. Why bother? Until you take your last breath...you are still living. Personally, my cancer journey went fine through surgery, radiation and even chemo. A few minor and expected bumps. Then came immunotherapy . Four sessions with Keytruda and suddenly my left knee heavily arthritic and damaged over the decades of being a klutz began to hurt - badly. T he pain quickly spared  to my deltoids, wrists and hands. I needed a walker to get around. Getting out of a chair was near impossible. My normal 6' fr

We all have this power. regardless of our individual circumstances. Stay strong.  🌻 🌻 🌻

Should I be worried? Recently, a CTScan gloppy drink (commonly called "dirty sock water") actually tasted fairly decent. I've had it with cranberry juice before, but today it was less offensive. Has cancer changed my taste buds drastically? What of my personal taste dislikes is next to appreciate? Coconut? Lima beans? Head cheese (shudders)? All I can do is slurp on with positive thoughts.

My mother was loving to all. She taught her children well.  How to laugh, even when raising a mere smile seems impossible.  How to celebrate the smallest of victories as it is a positive step forward.  How to remain curious for learning never ceases. Her living with cancer is a lesson both my late brother and I benefited from although she would have hated having had us put through it. The occasional vent is fine, but a constant whine is not. Continue to do for others. Never give up hope. Focus on even the tiniest wonders of nature and respect it. Her valiant battle ended 26 years ago this year.  Luckily, her lessons continue thriving.