Hi again.
Check out the link above to see a brief CNN newsclip of a stray female dog who heard an abandoned baby cry in Argentina and picked it up, brought it over to where her own pups were, and presumably breast fed it? Although they don't mention the breastfeeding, one presumes it, being that dehydration is what kills neglected babies first, correct? Love the story. I always wonder what family pets make of human babies. We have two dogs in our pack in that situation . . . Ari and Dexter. . . good to know they won't be jealous. More like, concerned if the baby cries, right?
This is a blog I am writing because I want to quit treatment. It is a blog I plan to reread on my own time and again to motivate myself to keep going. I will be halfway through chemo in ten days. Then twenty five sunburns that stay forever.....radiation...along with tattoos for the radiation technologist.
In a few weeks I begin a year of herceptin (given me via my left arm every three weeks, I hope) which is the drug that slows down my very fast spreading type of cancer: HER2. My left arm is very sore, still, from the chemo attacking the skin of the veins through which it came in. Can't use right arm, have no lymph nodes there so it is off limits. Sick of people telling me to get the port. Whatev. Heard disgusting things about herceptin and taxotere. I will have toenails and fingernails falling off and going yellow; nausea, diarrhea, mouth sores.
I just feel myself getting weaker and sicker yet there are not exactly people in my house everyday demanding less. In fact, my husband is constantly, "why aren't you up doing the dishes? why can't you do that yourself?" Whatev. It's not like I can change him. It's not like I didn't see him as this kind of person from the very beginning. When I met him, I was in rescue mode, what can I say? When you choose a partner incapable of being there for you from the get go, it is because you always imagine yourself as super strong, super able. You never see yourself with rashes under your armpits and belly, no breast, a hole in your incision, fungus coming out of it, bald head, sensitive vision, and bad mood. As his sister said, "whatever happened to 'in sickness and in health'.
Jordan will do anything I need; he'd do anything for me. He is wonderful, as is Dawn, his partner. So my husband, behind my back, asked Jordan to use his day off re-roofing our 1935 stand-alone garage. Which Jordan did, last Monday. I am still seething about it. Dave "just doesn't get it," our friends say. I beg to differ. He gets it just fine, the goodies related to my illness, that is, that fall his way.
What he doesn't care about it is me. He FINALLY brought up divorce today and I was over the moon at the thought. I was so happy that I thought: "excellent. Now I will dump this stupid cancer treatment, take my chances at the survival numbers game, and get back to doing the dogs myself a hundred percent. Whoo hoo! I will get my strenth back".
On my own, at least, I have a chance of my good friends assisting me with the projects I need done: like installing bookshelves in this house. Dave has never done a project that I uniquely needed doing. Dave prefers to keep my books in wicker baskets on the flooded floor of the basement. I just lost hundreds of dollars of screenwriting books to black mould. Books, to Dave, are like discarded candy wrapping...."stuff" that is in the way. Books to me are the word. And the word is the life. And I only get one.
The divorce conversation, of course, always stops when Dave realizes he will lose half his stuff. Been round that circle a few times. One day I will have a whack of cash and afford to initiate it myself.
On the "up" side, wonderful Ellen drove five hours here with my Bobo, my Bobbi, my bed mate. I can't describe how great it is to have her here on my bed. She and her brothers are reunited. My little lady.
My life needs adjustment and cancer treatments are definitely in the way. I keep deciding, :"yay now I can quit treatment, but then . . . I have a one in four chance of being alive in five years. My friend, Keith, emailed me a really nice phrase in response to my last blog, about walking a little, taking a rest, walking a little. It felt so very true that I got thinking about times in the past when I needed inspiration and I developed this excellent habit, for awhile, of collecting inspiring quotes from Beliefnet.com and printing them out in a duotang and rereading them. I used to get students to do spontaneous timed writing on one or another of them.
So I went to Beliefnet and under "persistance" found the following ones. If you happen to recall one that inspired you to keep going when you had had enough, feel free to send me them. Of course, the dog one is at the top.
In general, when little Tulip stays for a weekend, or things like Bobbi coming back occur, my heart dances and I am singing little songs aloud about the dogs. I walked into the park on Thursday and all the dogs came running and you would think Justin Bieber had just surprise-visited a grade seven cafeteria. I was like Mick Jagger in a hair parlour. So much love. Jumping and smiling faces of my best dog friends in the world. My people. My angels.
Here are my quotes.
-Archie Griffin
It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog.
When faced with a challenge, look for a way, not a way out.
Pray for a good harvest, but keep on plowing.
In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was within me an invincible summer.
"Mile by mile it's a trial; yard by yard it's hard; but inch by inch it's a cinch."
Strive to realize a state of inward happiness, independent of circumstances.
If all else fails, try reading the directions. (I have long repeated this one, it is so humorous and true.)The drops of rain make a hole in the stone not by violence, but by oft falling.
The person who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.
The gem cannot be polished without friction, nor man perfected without trials
No one would ever have crossed the ocean if he could have gotten off the ship in the storm.
Courage does not always roar. Sometimes, it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow" ...
Well there you have it. I hope to reread these many times a day. Thank you for your incredible kindnesses to me which are manifold, and multiple. God bless you. Send me a quote if you think of one. Thank you God for Ellen, Joanna, Christine, Adie, Suzanne, Keith, and all of you out there who are kind, compassionate people. Your kindnesses fill my heart and soul and get me to sleep at night with no problem at all.Thank God for sleep!
I'm gonna stick my neck out and be the tough love person here. If you stop treatment, you're deciding that you want to die. Sorry, but that doesn't mesh with anything I've ever known or thought about you. I'm not going to patronize you by dumping examples of people who have it still tougher on your head. I'll just say that if you really don't want the chance to wake up one morning years down the road and say, wow, I'm glad I toughed it out, however f***ing brutal it was at the time, so I could get to that point, well, that's your call. The docs aren't telling you that the point of this treatment is just to prolong your life by a few months; they're telling you this is a shot at a cure, at being cancer-free. I can't begin to imagine the physical pain; nor can I do more than try to imagine the emotional stress. But what I have most difficulty of all imagining is a Nora who doesn't say F*** off cancer, I've got too much stuff that I want to do with the rest of my life, so get yourself outta here.
ReplyDeleteBtw, the Monistat powder is en route.
Right on, sistah. I need that tough love. keep it comin. I had an AHA moment as Oprah calls it today. I ran into this lovely, elderly, stylish, pretty woman I have known from my family church since I was five years old. Same last name, coincidence...McLoughlin...and same strong Irish accent as me little mammy who passed on five years ago. As soon as we locked onto one another, holding hands, I cried. It was like getting the chance to fill my own late mother in on what has happened to me. Same compassionate face. She was a nurse in Ireland way back. She said, holding my arms firmly, "But you're going to get over this!" It was a shock. It was exactly what I needed to hear and it was as if my own mother had said it, so I really took it in. My own mom had breast cancer at the same age as I would have had it at...had I gone for a check up a year ago. And she went on to live 35 years cancer-free. I realize now that my weakening state under chemo has fooled my self, deeply, into believing HER2 is a death sentence inside, say 10 yrs. Thank you, Suzanne, for demanding of me that I bring the firey Nora back in, to tell this cancer where to go. Suits me better than just agreeing with the cancer, that it should kill me. And bless you. A million times. You have been a brick to me. Thank you sooooo much.
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