It’s -15 degrees with a wind chill of -30. I’m going nowhere today. Thankful to be in between pet sits for a couple of days at home, snuggling with Brenda the cat. A house mate came home with lots of food from his work (a grocery store) ground beef and spaghetti included. I volunteered to make a pot of spaghetti today. It’s my kind of day; cooking, reading and not going out in the cold. Tomorrow, temps will start to warm up considerably and I’ll be with a great dog in a great house for the weekend, sharing a meal with a friend on Christmas Eve.
I mainly wanted to share with you, my essay that came out in Insider yesterday.
The news of tWitch’s suicide this week was surprising. I thought he had it all, a career, beautiful wife and three children. I was an Ellen DeGeneres show watcher. At 4:00 I was ready to sit down for a bit, maybe have some popcorn. It always made me happy, all the things she did to help others. tWitch was Ellen’s side kick on the show, an amazing dancer, always, smiling. I remember his wife coming on the show, dancing with him. I remember the birth of their last child. But what we never know is what is going on inside someone’s head, which is where most of us live. This morning I came across a CNN Opinion piece by Mel Robbins about tWitch and our views of suicide. She hit the nail on the head. I hope you read it. People who commit suicide aren’t selfish. They may not want to end their life but they want the pain to end, whatever the source of that pain: mental illness or situational. I know this as someone who has attempted suicide and lost my daddy to suicide. After I attempted suicide, I went to a therapist, the late Jon Garlinghouse, who specialized in suicide. I asked him, “Why did I go to this place.” “It was an option that provided relief” he wisely told me. It was true, I was so tired of the pain resulting from the end of relationship, I wanted relief, I wanted the pain to end. I remember in a writing class, I once wrote and shared about my daddy’s suicide. A classmate spoke up, declaring I should be mad at my father for doing this to me. What she said pissed me off. I had watched my father struggle all his life with his mental illness and alcoholism. He was tired damn it and I understood that. I was mostly sad that my daddy had suffered so much pain, that it got bad enough he wanted it to end. As Mel states, “This is why I feel so adamant that we change the way we think and talk about suicide. Saying this is selfish or the fault of the victim is simply ignorant and tremendously hurtful to family members who loved someone who lost their battle.”
Learning to become aware of our story at a cellular level
By Charlotte Wilkins
It’s old but flawlessly restored, glinting metallic new-penny paint, a color that didn’t exist “back then.” A Chevy pickup, the 1940’s shape unmistakable. I’ll have to wait till it passes to pull into the street.
The truck reels past, the shutter freezing on a single frame in my windshield. Sound, movement, thought, breath all suspended, my fingers clamp round the steering wheel, foot jams harder on the brake. Bodily reactions leaving brain cells to catch up or ‘fess up. In The Body Keeps the Score, noted trauma specialist Bessel Van der Kolk, MD writes, “trauma is not just an event that took place sometime in the past; it is also the imprint left by that experience on mind, brain, and body.”
Now there’s a catch in my mind like a crochet hook reaching, turning, dipping…
Did it again, used the easy, no fuss turkey recipe. For the 3rd time it did not let us down. I wonder if I’ll ever try another turkey recipe, would there be a reason to? Maybe just for the adventure of it. We will find out in the years to come.
Thanksgiving at the hotel continues to be my favorite day for all of us who live here. It’s a humble holiday, no fan fare required. The only structure is that the turkey will be ready around 4:00 so others plan their cooking around that. Black kitty, Brenda, got about ten meals throughout the day, turkey, turkey innards, and her regular kitty food. She still tried to tell me she was hungry before we snuggled up for bed!
Once we fill our plates with all the fixings, sat down to stuff our faces, any little irks (believe me they come up when you have fifteen people living under one roof, sharing bathrooms and kitchens) are long forgotten and we are thankful to be under the same roof, happy and mostly healthy. They even made a community toast to our group effort in beating f—ing anal cancer. They all have been so sweet, always checking in to see if I needed anything, hanging in my room for a cup of tea and a visit.
Honestly, it was the first day in a few weeks that I had energy and an appetite. At one point in the afternoon, I thought I was down for the count, but after a short rest, some food and hydration I made it for dinner time, dessert, followed by nerf gun wars in the hallways. Maybe I’ve turned a corner. For the past two weeks I have hardly gotten out of bed, felt like I had lead in my legs and no food sounded good. It was a bit depressing. They, the nurses, had warned though, saying it will get worse before it gets better. It’s still not comfortable to sit directly on my bottom, but that’s getting better too.
The sun is shining today in Missoula and I’m thankful not to be going to any Black Friday sales. I’ve got a project or two to keep my busy and a bit of clean up from yesterday.
It’s helping my spirits, knowing I’m getting back to my pet sitting gigs. I got even better news when I went by to get last minute instructions for my dog sit starting Monday. Rafa, the dog, has the same routine as me. In the mornings, he gets up for breakfast then demands everyone get back in bed for a bit. We will get along beautifully.
One more piece of good news, I revised an essay I wrote last year, submitted it to Insider and it was accepted, my first paid piece of writing. Once it’s live, you will be the first to know.
It’s official. I have a certificate to prove it. I’ve completed the required chemo/radiation to burn this butt of a tumor. My appointment with the surgeon is December 15th to confirm we beat it.
Meantime, I plan to rest. After they handed me my “diploma” on Friday. the radiation techs, who feel like family now, followed up with a warning, “the side effects will get worse before they get better.” This morning I woke up at 8:30, late for me. I feel exhausted. Today, I’m staying put in my pajamas and going no where. I’m getting used to sitting on my side (always been a side sleeper) since the radiation burn makes it hard to sit flat and upright.
It has been my urge to nap each time I had to get myself together and out the door for 2:00 radiation. Now I will be able to rest.
My first dog sit is scheduled the week after Thanksgiving for a couple of weeks. It will be welcomed. My clients, fully aware I’m just coming out of treatment have graciously offered alternatives for days I may not feeling like getting their sweet dog out for a walk. Their home offers opportunity to rest, complete with big screen TV, streaming channels, gas fireplace and a dog who is allowed on the couch for cuddling. I’m so lucky. I will miss our house kitty, Brenda. We’ve become quite attached to each other even more so the past six weeks.
That’s the latest. I am tired and won’t write anymore for now.
The brain-gut connection is real. I can attest to that. My 5th day of nausea took me to a sad, lonely place.
With a new nausea med, I can see the light again. Food still doesn’t sound good. It’s a fact that chemo/radiation changes your taste buds. Things I used to crave and eat regularly, my favorite chocolate/peanut butter bar, salads, popcorn do not appeal.
This article from the MD Anderson Cancer Center gives some suggestions on how to manage nausea. ie: eat small through out the day, ginger candies (thanks to a dear friend), and staying hydrated. I’ve always been a water drinker and have continued with that. The doctors have been impressed that my electrolytes have remained good throughout treatment.
With the nausea somewhat resolved, I can acknowledge what I am thankful for:
I am grateful to still be enjoying my morning coffee. That taste bud has remained intact. It’s a ritual for me, a cup of coffee while either reading or writing gets my day off to a better start.
Thankful for my high school friend who sent me taffy from the Mississippi state fair, the best taffy ever.
Thankful for the constant companionship of our house kitty, Brenda, even when she sneaks a bite of whatever I’m eating!
Grateful for the friend and his eight year daughter who brought me plants yesterday and stayed for most of the afternoon.
Thank you to the friend and ex co-worker who encouraged me to set up a Mealtrain during treatment.
Thank you to the friend who recommended Anderson Cooper’s podcast, All There Is. Cooper begins a series of emotional and moving conversations about the people we lose, the things they leave behind, and how to live on – with loss, with laughter, and with love.
And most thankful next Friday will be my last day of radiation. Chemo ended last week. Woohoo!
We had our first snowfall of the season in Missoula last night. It was beautiful and peaceful.
This is the hard part. They warned me these last two weeks may be the worse. I’ve been nauseated since Friday. Can’t eat. No energy. I make myself go outside and stand in the sun. It’s lonely. It’s unsettling. I fear I will die alone, but many of us do. I want to hear my family’s voices.
That’s today and the past few days. This too shall pass.
In the midst of it all, I found the energy to put together the wall calendar I’ve dreamed of doing, something I could do from the comfort of my bed! Dogs in Cars and More captures our furry friends along for the ride. Hope it puts a smile on your face. I have a few favorites, February might be my most favorite.
This past week I have been cat sitting. It’s been a nice reprieve, relaxing and very quiet. My cat sit is just a few minutes from town, with a creek running just feet from the back door. I brought all the foods I eat lately: banana, peanut butter, bread, butter, rice, baked potato (I bought a little steak, steamed the hell out of some broccoli, that went down pretty well) and crackers so I was set. Oh and ginger tea. The only thing I had to do was drive to my radiation at 2:00 each day. Next week I’ll be at a cat sit near downtown just feet from the Clark Fork river. The week after that, back at home and my second week of the chemo pack strapped to me 24/7. Now that I know what it’s like I am so not looking forward to it. But hey I can do it! My radiation doctor laughed when I half jokingly, asked if we could check to see if the cancer was gone so maybe I don’t need another round of chemo.
I needed this week in a house by myself with such a peaceful setting and sweet kitties. Last weekend, I wrote about the birthday celebration but left out the out unfolding stress of that weekend. Living downtown sometimes brings it’s challenges, parking being one of them. Last Saturday as I drank coffee I suddenly remembered I had not moved my car from the street where the farmer’s market happens. Of course, it was gone when I went outside, in its place was a lovely family selling produce. A phone call to the towing company brought some relief as they told me my car had only been moved a few blocks. “just walk around and you will find it.” After walking two blocks east and two blocks south, I needed a rest before walking more in hopes of finding my car. I called back to ask if they keep track of where they move cars to. That would be too easy. No they don’t. It wasn’t until Sunday that I walked around some more with no sign of car. Now I was stressing. My appointment with the chemo doctor was first thing Monday morning. It took several more phone calls for me to find out my car was at the Red’s towing lot. They are closed on Sundays but the answer service found out there was someone there. One of my favorite housemates drove me over there. We immediately began our improv act. I was his sick mother and by God my “son” was going to make things right. The young man behind the counter asked for $350 to release my car. “T’ put his arm around me, “we can’t afford that, she has medical bills” I piped in, “I called several times yesterday and was told it was only moved a few block, now you are asking for the daily rate.” Red’s employee asked for proof, so I showed the call history on my phone. After telling him I had an appointment with the chemo doctor first thing, he asked for proof. I pulled up Mychart on the phone to show proof of the appointment. T, sticks up for me, again, “she does not need this stress right now.” Employee did start to feel bad, trying to get hold of his boss. Finally the employee assured us he would call once he heard from the boss. There was never a phone call. Monday morning, I picked up my car just minutes before my appointment. They charged me $275, the towing fee, removing the daily rate. Unhappy, I frowned and left with my car. I’ve since learned a few things about Red’s and towing companies. During Covid, Red’s would not allow people in to pick up their car if they were wearing a mask! Also, towing companies have free reign to tow a car from anywhere that has signs that parking is not allowed or not allowed at certain times. It seems it should be illegal to tow on a Saturday and not be able to pick up one’s car until Monday. They should have someone at the shop on Saturday’s and Sundays. It’s a scam. There could be numerous situations that would make life miserable, what if you were flying out that day or had an emergency? At least folks need to be aware of this scam and the way Red’s treats their customers. If I have the energy and can figure out who in the government to talk to, I will.
Today, I’m not going anywhere, staying put with the kitties, reading and listening to the creek (no radiation on the weekends). The kitties’s owner is a retired English teacher, books adorn several shelves. She offered for me to read any books while here. I’ve started two, enjoying both very much, The Marriage Portrait, a novel by Maggie O’Farrell, author of Hamnet and Never Simple,a memoir by Liz Scheier.
I baked a cake, from scratch, a chocolate very moist cake. It was easy and I am quite proud. I was able to use the nasturtiums I planted to decorate it. One of our housemates turned 29 yesterday. Her boyfriend, who caters with a local gourmet company, cooked up chicken enchiladas, made homemade chips and verde, salad, and simple veggie appetizers for our household as part of her celebration. Another housemate had just rearranged and freshened up our community sitting area. It was all ready to be decorated with pom poms and streamers for the party. Bob, asked me to order a cake earlier in the week. After several calls on Wednesday we were too late. Seems there were a lot of weddings this weekend, bakeries couldn’t take any more orders. Even though I can count on one hand how many cakes I’ve baked in my 63 years on the planet, I began my internet search for best chocolate cake recipe. I honed in on one, BBC easy chocolate cake recipe, gathered the ingredients, made the so easy, so delicious icing in the morning. Baked the cake around noon. Bob was looking at me with skeptical eyes as I put the very liquidity batter filled pans into the oven. The recipe stated once you add the boiling water, “the cake mixture will now be very liquid.” I was only a little worried about how they would come out. 30 minutes later, it was a very moist and perfectly formed cake. I iced it like a pro. Dinner was delicious. I was happy to have a decent appetite. The cake was donned with candles, lit, carryed out to the tune of, you know, “Happy Birthday to You.” I helped slice and serve a few pieces when my body suddenly told me to go lie down. There was no arguing with it. I did get to hear the rave reviews the cake was getting. It was really a fun day, helping with the festivities. I love the people I live with. As I laid down with my black kitty, since I was tired, the tears just came. I wish my child and I could share special moments, laugh together. I miss her, damn it. Life is short, life is precious, hope springs eternal, forgiveness is possible, choose love not fear.
Fscottwrites 