Heroes

I am not the heroine of this story, there are many, he is my hero today, everyday. They both are, my two loves, Milo and Karl. I learned this ever more presently this past weekend, during a storied visit. Though very much under the weather and not the ideal situation for our reunion, we embraced every minute we had with such an abundance of love, it is and was astounding.

The arrival day, of course, couldn’t get here with enough swiftness. I had had a five hour appointment at the clinic for this chemotherapy drug study. And as they flew to see Mamma, I had my port accessed, blood drawn three times, EKG’s, two skin biopsies, coupled with doctor and nurse visits throughout a full day. As they flew, I was at work healing with a giant, excited smile all day long, of which I am sure my partners in chemo jail crime must have thought was insane. We, my inmates and I, spoke of my son, of hers, of screenplays (because it’s LA), and side effects while they traveled, while he slept in his arms and peered out of the window into the sky searching for Mamma.

They were headed straight for me from the airport, it was quiet, at the end of the day and I was on my last nurse visit when they arrived. I heard from Chanel, one of the nurses, is that your baby looking for you!? I could feel my smile get brighter and hear the coos from the clinic. It was unbearable that I couldn’t run to him, my gait is at a snail’s pace with intense pain, yet my heart leapt immediately to him, as I watched him peer around the nurses station looking for Mamma. Each nurse seemed to be lined up watching us, patients still in their chairs, listening, my sister’s friend, who had been beside me the entire day, and my husband, all of them watching with tears streaming at this little one who just wants his mamma to scoop him up. I hurried to my chair as Karl lifted him to my lap, and immediately he pulls at my shirt where the port lives with bandage and said to me, Mamma’s boo-boo go bye-bye, over and over he excitedly speaks, grabbing at my booby, at my wound, just knowing I am here for this, for healing. Hugging me, gentle as a lamb, and excited as toddler can be, he loved me so deeply in that moment and always. I am such a proud mother and in awe of my husband that guided him to me. We couldn’t get out of there fast enough to just be together. In two year old cuteness, he was running around the place saying hello and exploring as we gathered ourselves and headed to dinner and then slumber at dear Kosta’s home, where I am living at the moment. A dear, dearest soul, a dear old friend of my husband’s, we head towards such a home. Milo sleeps so easily in this new place and it comforts my heart.

Our entire time together we loved like this moment, with pain, tiredness and simple colds aside, we played in a magical bed of laughter, family, warmth, and gentle calmness. When they had to leave, I didn’t cry as expected. I was elated by the time together. Renewed by the love of a husband who has grown into the most present father, loving man and soul a woman could want by her side. I am beyond blessed by such a hero. I sat in the car saying goodbye, as Milo said to me, Mamma stays, boo-boo get better. With Kosta, boo-boo gets better. With this, I know that I am supposed to be here, though away from my loves, I have two precious heroes who support and guide this trail.

Ritorna me

Back home and gone again, but my family will ritorna me….

The trip home was actually as expected. I had a feeling my lovely doctor would want me in his care. They all did, the nurses embraced me with such love and adoration. They ‘had’ me during the week. Milo had his mamma on the weekend. My husband held my hand, family and friends connecting, for my short visit. I received healing from all around me. And what such heroes I have surrounding me.

Really I was selfish though, and just wanted to cuddle up in Milo’s love, as he looked up at the nurse in the hospital and said, “mamma’s boo-boo, go bye-bye”. Are all two year olds like this? I’m afraid his compassion, his understanding within my honesty of how our life is, will cause him too much sensitivities, but I don’t think so, he has a feistiness and happiness that aglow his sadness for missing mamma. I sort of enjoyed the way he threw my small pillow out of the luggage when preparing to my return to Cali. He didn’t want me to go, but knew I had too and that he will be on an airplane to mamma soon. I know things will be as they shall, so I’m ignoring the books about children and coping with this sort of situation. I feel they are fear based, mostly, and condescend to the brilliance of the child’s eye, and mind. We are learning as we go, and being taught by so many around us, with their enveloping prayers and simple thoughts.

So for the return, I went home, played with the little man, had an unbearable pain battle, admitted to control and care for it, listening to the MRI’s tell me I’m relatively okay, no fears of spinal cord damage, just pinched this’ and that’s and general bone saga’s. With that, I received the go ahead to return to my LA houses of trials and trust. Thankfully! No more step backwards, I wanted to move forward with this…I have a feeling, a feeling everything will be just fine.

Back in the sunshiny state, solo mio. Still managing the pain, new ones, old ones, but made it back with divine help along the way. Even today, as I found myself dropped off at a cafe that was closed, it worked out, had a great lunch somewhere else, got a ride, used the Internet and now it’s nap time.

Another day in the life of the moving cancer cell

Oh for the love of God and Goddesses everywhere….

I really don’t want this post to be snarky, why me or deeply sorrowful but I’m feeling a bit of all three among a thousand other emotions. The shit has hit the cancer fan. I’m just going to lay out the update in a list form and then move on to my real writing. I want to take a moment to acknowledge with great gratitude all of you who read and support and have showered me with love…..

Here goes:
Cancer has spread in the bones, and the existing tumors in bones have grown (sucky and painful).
It shrunk in the liver (okay, that is good).
My long term prognosis of shooting for “decades” is no longer realistic (I call bullshit).
Worst case scenario is really bad (not telling, as it’s not gonna happen).
I begin my new treatment of AC (my Adriatic C) on Monday.
I started Cytoxin (cy-youngin’) on Tuesday.
Sent all of my info to Dr. Larry Norton at Sloan-Kettering.
Sending my info off to some other great contacts, soon I hope.
I’m really pissed off that I probably won’t be able to go to New Mexico in September for a getaway with the hubby as planned.

Okay, now that we have that off of my chest….

Nestled here in the trees of the great northwest with family and friends is not a bad place to be in summer. When mortality is questioned, I think we have these expectations of frantic thoughts about how much we need to see and do in life before the end. Not so for me, maybe because I refuse to accept the end is a close foe. Yes, I want to make it to Italy and write a book but I’m content laughing at Milo and having dear friends visit. I also seem to be thinking about all of the piles of shit in my house. I really want the clutter gone, it is too much and as I rest and stare out at the view, I don’t want to think about piles. I’m a silly woman at times. I’ve never seen London or the Grand Canyon and what I’m thinking about at the edge of a great mortal moment is my unorganized life because it usually is so tight. Lessons. Release expectations and thoughts of ridiculousness and continue to look upon the beauty of this green earth and the faces that make existing… all of our “Grand Canyon” moments.

I shall land in Italy the summer of 2014. I will get to New Mexico. I will see Milo turn 5 and then 10. I will continue to heal and move this cancer into remission.

The 8th of May

It’s already my birthday, and I feel blessed to have one.

Though the thoughts of how many more I will have loom within the celebration of me and my day. I had a lovely time with my family. My sweet son’s voice could be heard by many, singing mama, maamaama, mama, beaming with hugs and love. Watching him simply be, is the perfect gift. And then the mind wanders of how long I get to watch him grow and be? I remind myself that I will have a long life with him, experience all of his adventures, and share smiles.

I briefly think, can I not just have a clear May 8th? A thought free of cancer and my longevity? It was a beautiful day, I have so much love around me and I want to enjoy it without furrowed brow and worry. So, I ordered bonbons by the pool in the hot sunshine of our Hawaiin vacation, knowing that amongst all of this cancer crap, life is still beautiful.

I must remember gratitude. I must remember my smiles and breathe my furrows away.