"Things They Carried"

You'll have to excuse me.  I'm having a technological moment.  Moments, more accurately.

New laptop in place. Yes, two keyboards.  Don't ask.

Since returning home last Friday evening after more than a month on the road I've truly been challenged: my laptop wheezed its last while I was gone. You know the spear that pierces your heart when you realize that what separates you from all your files is six pounds of hard, molded steel and huge swipes of your credit card. A happy camper I wasn't.  I was literally standing on the power button as if fierce thoughts might spark ignition.

And isn't it funny (yes, just friggin' hilarious, thank you very much) how things happen in tandem? My laptop blew. So did my electric truthbrush. For real. Then today? The digital scale. Voila! My belief that all things work for the greater good was restored.

Under normal circumstances I wouldn't have mentioned the scale but last week I was at Project Lead, a program of the National Breast Cancer Coalition,  six days of intensive, hands-on study of the science of breast cancer,  epidemiology and public policy. We listened to phenomenal, challenging lectures, snacked on fresh fruit, went to the next lecture, grabbed a cookie, broke into awesome study groups, nibbled on chocolate. Then we went to lunch before the next lecture started. You get the picture.  It was the best of college on steroids. So outrageously good. Before Project Lead, I traveled with Livestrong to lobby with OVAC - One Voice Against Cancer -  and at the end of June I was the social media "voice" for a five-day conference in Houston on health disparities - HealthEquity12 -  in cancer and other chronic diseases.  I was there when the Supreme Court decision on the Affordable Care Act was announced.

This brings me back to where I started. Even though I've been away, and traveled great physical and mental distances during the past month, the essentials are still the same. I think of all of you daily.  I always carry my IPAD now, which contains a photo stream of shots compiled for a talk I gave on cancer survivorship. Within that stream are photos of Betsy, and Rachel, and Susan - beloved women who died this past year. Even if it's a quirk, or an illusion, simply having those photos 'on tap' mean the world to me.  I can still see their digital imprint even though I will not see them again.

The writer John Cheever, that sublime polisher of the short story, once said after he lost some manuscripts that he just sat down and started another one. That is art. And perspective. Wisdom. My world certainly won't collapse if my Microsoft Outlook files can not be retrieved.  I can re-gather that information. But my world would not have been the same if I hadn't known Rachel, and Betsy, or followed Susan through her treatment for inflammatory breast cancer. My world would not be as meaningful had I not taken up this cause I'm immsered in now. This is what what I'll be doing for the rest of my life. Because I carry them with me.  And always will.

* * *

The Things They Carried is a brilliant short story and collection by the writer Tim O'Brien about a platoon of soliders in Viet Nam.  I originally read it in Esquire, then in a collection edited by Ann Beattie (The Best American Short Stories, 1987).  I remembered this powerful story today and this coming Monday, August 6, we'll use the theme of "things we carry" in our weekly #BCSM discussion on Twitter. 

dogs can fly

The day after I wrote the post about my friend Rebecca, I went to Take the Plunge, a fundraiser for local dog rescue organizations. It was a lot of fun. We had the chance to meet many different kinds of dogs and the people who love them. They came in all shapes and sizes, colours and temperaments. We also met a miniature horse and some ferrets. One woman was pushing a cat in a stroller. The cat wasn't strapped in and seemed quite relaxed amidst all the canine chaos.

The central event of the afternoon was the dock diving competition. We watched all kinds of dogs leap after toys into the pool. Some of the dogs needed to be persuaded to get out of the water. Most seemed incredibly pleased with themselves. Everyone - spectators, dogs and their human handlers seemed to be having a wonderful time.

This dog took my breath away:

I thought a lot about Rebecca as I sat in the sun; this was the fun event I had chosen to dedicate to her memory. And then the most incredible thing happened. I watched a pit bull terrier, among all the retrievers and border collies, launch himself off the dock and fly an incredible 18 feet. His owner jumped with joy and fist-pumped the air as she yelled, "Ten and half years old!"

I had goosebumps and tears in my eyes. I thought of my Jasper who didn't make it to his tenth birthday. I thought of Rebecca's pit bull Diezel who is waiting for a new forever home. And I thought of Rebecca and how life is far too short not to enjoy a day in the sun, doing the things we love.

It's not to late to do something fun in Rebecca's memory and let me know. The family is planning a celebration of her life, in accordance with her wishes (they're also asking for suggestions as to what to write on her urn). I'm tracking all the stories you send me and compiling them for the family. I'll eventually publish the list here too.

all is well

Just taking some down-time for the summer.

I'm trying to live a bit more in the moment - and stopping to do things like take a photo of this lovely statue I spotted in Little Italy, on my way home from the vet.

Check out the little sheep grazing on the ball of yarn:

Regular blogging will return in September.

Immune systems and all that.

I guess I have a crappy immune system.... Or that's what they tell me. Nothing to do with cancer but that pesky chemo crap probably did something to my immune system during treatment. Now I have RA and the methotrexate definitely has messed up my immune system. Someone else's sniffles can make me sick for weeks.

But I usually just ignore my immune system and do what I feel like. Call me a rule breaker if you want.

When I was in chemo, they (the proverbial 'them') said I should avoid crowds and not to go to the mall, movie theaters etc. I didn't go to the mall or movie theaters. But I did work for the local community ed program in the office of a local high school. I am sure there are barely any germs in a high school. Just a few thousand teenagers. I wasn't concerned. I worked with a paranoid germaphobe and let her be concerned for me.

This week I took my immune system compromised body through two airports (twice - there and back again (as Bilbo would say)) and sat in meeting rooms with other immune systems. I was probably exposed to about 10,000 other people, give or take 5,000. And I even rode the subway to minimize exposure.

Now that I am home, I feel tired and my back hurts (that's nothing new there).

I might have a sore throat but I am sure that is just be allergies. I'll may get to the the gym later. In the meantime I am doing many loads of laundry.

Cape Cod AHHHHHH

 

This is my favorite spot on earth. It just makes me smile like a real smile. We are here with our cousins, my dad, G-Deb, and our friends will be here tomorrow. The boys have caught crabs (no no do not go there), sea stars, some huge fish and other crawly things and that was just half a day on the beach. It is dinner time and like always too much food and booze. I will sit on my ass and tell them what to do, just like always. Of course, if another cup of ping pong balls fall on my head or kitchen sprayer soaks me or I sit on a farting cushion I am going to smack someone, HARD! Good days ahead, hitting Welfleet tomorrow, mmmmmmm OYSTERS!!!

Our Families, Our Friends, Ourselves

My sister and co-survivor.

When I was diagnosed with cancer it wasn't just about me.  My husband was part of the diagnosis.  My sister was.  

         And so were my friends, an incredible group of women that immediately organized to share helping with rides, food, errands, and "fly-overs" when they'd stop by on their lunch hour with flowers or a bowl of soup during the week following chemo.

         I was spoiled rotten, in other words.

         But I certainly can't say that was the case for my husband or sister, or my friends, even.

         I had glimpses....looks I caught on my husband's face when he didn't think I was watching; or the moment I had to screw up my courage to call my sister and tell her that I had cancer.  She was newly separated, and a working mother.  Her son was three.

Steve & I at Peyton's Felicity Farm.

        The demands of their lives didn't stop because I had cancer. They multiplied. 

         And treatment can go on for a long time.

        The question becomes:  how can we truly help the entire family - whatever its make-up happens to be.  A brochure on "Caregiver Burnout" doesn't really go the distance for those who are in the trenches with us and are carrying the load while we can't.

        Let's talk about this tonight on #BreastCancerSocialMedia tweetchat beginning at 9 p.m.   These are tough issues in my book, and I'm looking forward to hearing what helped you and yours, what didn't, and what we can do to change that. 

I dont travel well any more

I used to travel at the drop of a hat. Skiing for the weekend? No problem. Run off for a weekend hiking in the mountains? Bring it on. Drop everything and head for the beach? Sure. A day in the city followed by dinner out? Let's go!!

Now, can we go off for a day of fun? Only if I get enough sleep first. A weekend away? Let me count out my pills to make sure I am prepared. Is there plenty to do if I need to lie down for a bit (so my husband isn't too bored). Are there wimpy activities if I need to change plans?

I am traveling, by myself, with my newest purchase, a four wheeled suitcase which is much easier on my back. I will be home tonight... I may implode first because I forgot my pills last night. Damn. Triple damn. That's only my anti inflammatories, folic acid, antacid, second lyrica pill, antidepressant, vitamins, and I can't remember what else that my body needs to function.

You say, why can't you take them this morning? Some are twice daily. Some make me fall asleep so I purposely take them at night. And I can't take anything else until its been an hour since I took my thyroid meds. So I am better to suck it up through my morning meetings and take an Ativan later for my flight home.

I can't believe I forgot them as I skipped a group outing to get some sleep. I went down to the hotel bar and had a glass of wine while they made my sandwich which I ate in my room so I could rest.

Finally I am contemplating some sort of revenge for the drunk neighbors who, came in at 1130 and were banging around next door for an hour or so. I need something loud to drop. Hmmm.... my inner evil twin comes out when I don't get enough sleep.

But I should be on my way home this afternoon to my husband, cat, and own bed, with my day by day pillbox on the bedside table. I can't wait.