NEWS WIRE:

Jan 16th, I had my last radiation treatment. That day I got the results of my PET scan. My body shows no sign of any more breast cancer. Treatments are done, and I can move into maintenance. I’ll go in for regular checkups and move past the breast cancer.

There is still the second thyroid cancer. That treatment is scheduled for February 2nd, and I will have to stay 3 feet away from people for a week, as well as take some precautions not to radiate others. But I will be able to put on bow on it on February 9th and get on with the efforts to get strong and have stamina again.


Back to Regular Programming:

It was a year ago. It was just a regularly scheduled mammogram.

No problem.

Then it was a closer look.

A little worry and dread slowed my steps

Then it was a biopsy and a diagnosis.

Fear walked with me. And death came out of the mist and waited with me for what was next.

Fear has a camp follower:

Shame

The dread made me want to cover it up. Nothing to see here; I can handle this.

It’s embarrassing to have something be WRONG with me. Cover it up, move along.

Maybe if I can fake it, it will go away.
Maybe if I show I am the slow one, the predators will come.

Shame and fear feed on each other. Because I was afraid I tried to hide it. I didn’t talk about the diagnosis until April, when I was headed into surgery. I hoped it would go away

This was live fire coming at me. I wasn’t sure where to turn.

I can see that shame has been with me as well as fear.

I know more about defending against it. Cancer was only one of the enemies.

All the chemotherapy—medical poisoning—has come to an end. Radiation is done this week, and although my skin is red and needs to recover I’m looking forward to getting into life without doctor visits.

It’s a good thing because life is coming at me with demands for my attention.  I’m nervous. My mind is clearing up enough to be able to imagine what could go wrong. What if I can’t do it? 

Will I be able to go out in the world again? Can I handle it? My impulse in this change is fear.

But I don’t want to stay hidden. I want to go out into the wide world of adventures again. But I’m scared!

There are a chorus of voices who tell me to watch out. Take it easy!  This was serious. I should act like it. They are loud and nearly constant, like a tinnitus hum.

I don’t want to hear it. I definitely don’t want to give it attention.

What I want it to go out and have adventures and do exciting things. How am I supposed to get past those voices and the scared I feel?

I do feel scared. And those voices are not silent. I can’t get past them.

What am I to do? I am hungry for experiences.

My adventures will have to include the fear. Scared can come on the ride with me. And those voices that say I shouldn’t or can’t will be in the back seat. 

There are some things to be afraid of, for sure. Those voices want me to consider every possible threat. 

Once I start off though, I’m feeling like it is not so threatening. If I can start the fear is quieter.  It doesn’t go away. I’ll have to make room for it because I’m going places. This new year is the phoenix’s rebirth.

1. brave new world
2. never finished
3. magic bleeds
4. ruby fever
5. emerald blaze
6. the bookworm
7. Broken mate
8. shattered wolf
9. warrior fae princess
10. warrior fae trapped
11. nstural dual mage
12. silver moon
13. fated hearts
14. zen and the art of motor maintenance
15. prometheus bound
16. kilt trip
17. women of good fortune
18. the saad book of happiness
19. magic tides and mAgic claims
20. kasher in the Rye
21. the maidesn NF
22. shadow city
23. the boyfriend effect
24. my brothers roommate
25. the stud next door
26. the emerald storm
27. nyphron rising
28. avampartha
29. wintertide
30. the crown conspiracy
31. stand up guy
32. the last days of lila goodluck
33. revealed in fire
34. catch 22
35. America’s cultural revolution
36. never finished
37. the boyfriend effect
38. my brother’s roommate
39. the stud next door
40. avampartha
41. Nyphron rising
42. the emerald storm
43. Wintertide
44. Persepliquis
45. mere christianity
46. on the edge
47. Kane and Abel
48. The prodigal daughter
49. focus
50. remarkable bright creatures
51. the great divorce
52. Did you hear about kitty Karr
53. How to be funny
54. the shift
55. Dirk Gently’s holistic Detective agency
56. The True Love eperiment
57. Troubled
58. What we were promised
59. Bayou Moon
60. On the edge
61. his other wife
62. Up from Slavery
63. focus
64. they both die at thew end
65. house of sky and breath
66. house of earth and blood

The year is spread out against the sky, and I want to put my face among the thousands of heroes that have come before me. I want to leave this safe space and have an adventure.

I am tired of being spread like a patient etherized upon a table. I’m ready to leave the safety of this known safe—safe-ish?—place I’ve been in and go on a quest for adventure.

The desire to conquer a new year is shared, it would seem. Lots of people talk about the new year and how they will achieve new heights. Many minds turn to heroic deeds.

What will it take to conquer new territory? I’m imagining what I’ll do, picturing the finish line and how great it will feel to cross it.

That’s the prize. The victory march.

Heroism isn’t a walk in the garden. If I were flitting from one delight to another, I would be a child and not a hero.

The struggle is a big part of what creates the value. The victory is not as sweet if it were a gift.

A great hero has a powerful enemy. 

Of course, I don’t wish for a struggle. But at the same time, I do want to do hard things and get stronger and more skilled.

That takes striving. That thing I wish I didn’t have to do. Strive with my own weakness to overcome it and turn it into strength. 

Less weakness means I can face the powerful enemies outside myself with better success. I’m going to need to be ready to conquer those enemies when they appear.

I had best start with myself.

Cleaning out a cupboard, I found a stash of plastic grocery bags. It has been a while since I got into the back of that cupboard, because these were from when the stores gave you a bag for free. I kept them so I could reuse them.

Except in this case, I hadn’t reused them. I’d stuffed them back into the back of my attention and forgot. Bags of bags.

What would I put in these bags? I thought the bags would have a use. But they took up space in my kitchen. Years ago, I stopped seeing them.

Sometimes bags hold things for me. Sometimes things hold onto me and accumulate.  Like bags under my eyes. Or bags in the back of the cupboards

When I discovered those bags I saw the truth of this choice I made and forgot. It limited my possibilities and cluttered my life. I made space and accepted these without a second thought.

If I asked myself what bothers me in my life or my environment, I have a fast response, and I could roll on the topic of things that need to be fixed or improved.  

It was appalling to suddenly see what I’d been tolerating for so long. Willful ignorance of the sneakiest kind. What else have I become intentionally blind about?

It’s a new year. I’m ready to ditch old habits for new ones. My cupboard full of bags of trash is a splash of cold water to my smug confidence. I need to check myself. 

I’ve been coasting on a set of assumptions. Some of them are helpful. I’m just not sure which are and which aren’t. 

It’s never convenient to re-examine my behaviors. I’m just trying to go live my life. And I can go about my life in a straight line. I’ll step around that thing. Then jump over that gulch, duck to get under that overhang and get straight to it.

How easy it is to contort myself to keep it simple! I end up in absurd contradiction.

Like finding out I’ve got toilet paper stuck to my shoe. With humiliation, I wonder how many people have seen it. I do not resent the time it takes to fix it. I only wish I could have fixed it sooner

I want to get myself proper for the new year. 

It was this time, a year ago, that i scheduled a mammogram

I didn’t expect that to take over my year.

I had to come to terms with the very serious and compelling news that I had breast cancer. That kind of information gets VIP treatment. Almost everything else comes second to this new priority.

I resent giving up my priorities in favor of something that’s pressed upon me. My priorities are my own.

Cancer though, is different. This is my LIFE I’m talking about, in the teeth of a very serious disease.

It’s not something to bargain with. Except it kind of is. I made this cancer journey–well, the medical treatments to fight cancer journey–my own.

I was not willing to lie back and take it. I had to find myself and express that I was strong and a fighter throughout it. I kept exercising, and tried to eat healthy things.

Eating was harder than I thought–30 pounds gained.

I am very close to being done with these treatments. Done with Chemo and halfway through radiation I will get a scan in January that should reveal that the cancer cannot be found in my body

ok. what then?

I have to recover from this fight…from the poisons I have put into my body to kill the disease. It hasn’t left me unscathed. I have lost my beautiful hair. It’s going to come back changed.

I am NOT willing to be weak and tired going forward. But it looks like I will be for a while longer.

How can I shorten that time?

Because i WANT that energy, that stamina, clarity and creative expression. Why did I go through this if not for that?

I want to redeem what i bought with the suffering. I want to SPEND my life on the very best life has to offer.

i need a plan. I need to turn from the easy and the cheap to the precious and valuable.

Taking the time to think about what I value and set away from the cheap will help me spend wisely.

As I bask in the wind-down of christmas, and the ramp-up into the new year my perspective has changed a lot. My faith is stronger, but humbler too.

I hadn’t realized what a small thing i am in the face of the cosmos. There is so much that is outside my control.

And still, of the things that are inside my control, there are so many actions I can choose to take. I am small but mighty, and I can choose to be persistent.

Persistance brings down any barrier.

Christmas is almost here and I’m about halfway through my Radiation treatment. I’m going to get a second dose of radioactive iodine for the thyroid cancer, which will happen in February.

Mostly I’m comfortable and thinking about Christmas. I am happy to be with my family, and looking forward to seeing my family’s faces when they open the presents I carefully chose for them. 

And driving over every day to get zapped. This will last until the middle of January. I have been telling the medical people I want the kind of radiation that gives me superpowers.  Radiation has been around for a long time but it became a topic of popular discussion around World War 2. Remember the Bomb that everyone was racing to perfect?

The war was scary. The Bomb and the governments that controlled it were new horizons of horrifying—the stuff of nightmares.

Comic book creators took the concept and used it. What is this super powerful radiation people are talking about? It sound complicated and scary. Ok. Who cares about that part? Let’s focus on the part that’s powerful.

Everybody wants this radiation for its power! A new generation of superheroes were spawned. Superman—that fossil!—was from outer space.  But the power of radiation is still making superheroes.

I plan to hitch my wagon to that powerful energy. It is fun to say I want the kind of radiation that give me powers. And the part of me knows I can’t really say that’s true.

I want it to be true. I remember the TV Show The Greatest American Hero who had a superhero (old school alien powers, not radiation) that consisted of a super cape and an owner’s manual that got lost.

His powers were real and impressive. He just didn’t know how to use them yet.

My superpowers are coming to me in the same way. I’m beign broken down and rebuilt with the power to carry own and have more adventures.

Can I be bigger, faster, stronger than before? That’s not how I feel right now.

But can I be? Absolutely! There is no question that I CAN. I have to practice and earn it. I can undergo this treatment, use it to kill the cancer and then earn my superpowers.

The comicbooks were right. Anything scary can be turned into a superpower with practice. 

“We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.” 
― Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead

Video games have given us the archetype of the non-playing character. I’m the hero of the game, and I can take action, have adventures and consequences for what I do. The Non playing characters (NPCs) are in the game doing one thing, with no variation. 

Like, a troll, or a princess that must be rescued. They only have one job.

As I move forward in my upcoming radiation therapy, every day I am lying on a table and being hit with X-Rays—Don’t move! Don’t breathe too hard!—I am an NPC.  It’s their world I am in, an object to be pushed into the shape of their choosing.

Video games’ portrayal of the NPC is not new. It’s instantly recognizable. They surround me. Clerks in stores, other pedestrians as I’m walking the streets—so many people I do not interact with but who share a space with me.

But I want to be the hero. If I’m not the active player, who is?

That play I’m quoting at the beginning– Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead –is a play about two NPCs in Hamlet. They show up say a few lines and die in Shakespeare’s version. Tom Stoppard gave them their own play. Everyone is the hero of their own life.

Sorta.

Thoreau wrote
“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation… From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats.”

I don’t want to be a rodent. I’d rather be up and fighting the dragon.

There is a lot of background work that goes into fighting a dragon. Even the heroic knights in armor had to stand very still while their squires strapped them into the armor.

Heroism take a lot of forms. I am learning that to be the hero I want to be  I have to stay still.

Twelve months ago, I had a path laid out ahead of me. I had started a new job with its own amazing potential. My kid was growing into her social circle, me and my husband had a good connection, and I was going to finish writing my fifth book.

Twelve months ago I was blissfully ignorant that two types of cancer were growing in my body, ignorant of the long stretch of medical treatments I was about to endure. I shifted out of the tracks I’d been steaming down, and popped into an alternate reality.

I’ve blogged about this before. A recent global reality shift was the Covid19 epidemic. I am pretty sure every human being had ideas about what the next year was going to be like in January of 2020, and all of us were wrong.

Early example of a reality track jumps came for me when I was in college and found myself taking more than four years to graduate. I had taken two years out of college to prepare then live in another country. When I came back, I felt myself irreparably off track, far behind everyone else.

I sit here now, shaking my head at my shame-filled 21-year-old self. I know now that I was far from alone in taking more than 4 years to finish a bachelor’s degree. 

Yet I sit here, still sure that I’m off some proper track and this is some kind of lost year. My head is clearer as the chemo is leaving my system, and my drive and ambition are reawakening. These old friends are now impatient for me to get moving on accomplishments and adventures.

I’m eager to make up for lost time!

 Still straining to pick up the projects and dreams I laid down at the beginning of the year, I recognize what I didn’t when I was 21.

There isn’t a map that I missed, actually. There are broad possibilities that could be achieved. But my track is my own. Missing a possibility because I realized a different one isn’t missing anything. 

Since I missed possibility because I did a different thing, that meant the possibility was imaginary. This year was a lot of very short term plans, clearly knowing that I could not know how things would turn out from day to day or even hour to hour.

As a result, the volume is turned down on my drive to achieve. Yes, I want to barrel down a track. And I know I have limits. I’m grateful to be on a track and see what adventures will unfold.

WATCH YOUR STEP

I’ve seen those words painted on steps in a public place. Maybe it’s the first step, or a step that is all by itself. Last week I talked about how I had better pay attention as things were changing, that I’m moving out of chemotherapy treatment

That warning on the step is laughable. We learn to walk first thing. Of course, I know to watch my step. And that step with the warning? It’s right there, so obvious. What kind of person would not see it?

These are my thoughts, smug and certain as I step over that exact step and stumble.

Thanksgiving morning, I joined the traditional morning workout class at my Dojo. I was so excited to feel good I really got into it. So great!

And I suffered the rest of the day, and the weekend.

I know better. I even knew I know better. I still walked right into it.

This is not a chemo thing. There are stereotypes about weekend gym warriors, who show up only on Saturday, and push themselves to their utmost—sometimes to injury—and crawl away to continue the cycle. Or maybe to give up altogether.

Like those “heroes” I would like to step into my vision, my fantasy, of being capable and strong. I *used* to be able to do that many kicks, or pushups.

I can’t now. It takes time to build up to my heroic vision. It’s not helpful to push past my limits and hurt myself. Showing up is worth a lot.

Once again, my compass points have changed. I have more endurance and capacity. Kinda. Rather than immediate weakness, the weakness showed up later. New pacing is required. Each day is different

I’m chagrined. I’m feeling around this new landscape and figuring out what the appropriate levels are.

Can I be satisfied with progress not perfection? Showing up and taking steps is going to have to be enough.

My old friend, the 1 % change comes to mind. It would be great to make a measurable change, even one so very small.

I will be honest. I don’t know what a small change might be. I can’t envision it beforehand. I know how things used to be. At least I think I do.

Then again I can’t measure myself against a memory. I can stand where I am this moment and reach for something. I might find that standing is near the limit of what I can do.

It will have to be enough that I do all I can. If I show up and do it, that is quite a lot.

And when I trip on that step again

I have to laugh at myself. Just like I should. It’s one stumble out of many steps that make up a whole trip.