Girl Scout Cookies

I am getting ready to go for my second round of chemotherapy. I am dreading it and I know I have to have it. The first round was far more difficult and miserable than I had anticipated. I have to say this is the hardest thing I have ever done, and it makes sense to me why the nurse at the end of the first chemo treatment ended the seven hour session with: “Thank you for coming in and doing this–you did it!.”  As you all know, I named the tumor Pat, short for Patriarchy (we need to kill Pat), and the port in my chest is named Mueller. After the seven hours of chemo, there is one more chemical that is slow release through a pump via Mueller. I have named the pump Nancy Pelosi to help Mueller kill Pat. During the five days of being horribly sick with nausea (and a whole host of other side effects), I have a lot of time for reflection and sadly, sometimes I fear I start to spiral down into a very dark space that does not help me kill Pat. This reflection was spurred on by my wanting to order Girl Scout Cookies.

I love the Do-si-dos and Robert and I both love the thin mints. I told Robert to ask our neighbors to order some Girl Scout Cookies for us. Internally, I did a nose dive into an abyss of fear. My strange and irrational brain went to: “Wait, what if I die and Robert gets stuck with all of the Do-si-dos cookies? He is allergic to peanut butter. Is it irresponsible of me to order the cookies?”

Having cancer really sucks. For me, I constantly worry and I know I have to figure out a different way to navigate this journey. I have started to try some guided meditation. For those reading and have also gone through a similar journey, what are ways you found helpful in coping with the trauma and the everyday perseverating–am I burdening and fatiguing my support network?

My ask is this: support the Girl Scouts, and if people have advice from lived experience, please do share.

Cancer in the Trump Era, Part Deux

Today I start my first chemo treatment, thus starting my year-long journey to get rid of this new cancer. I hate that I am so scared and hate that I am causing all of the people whom I love to feel scared.  Obviously, the cancer last year along with the massive heart attack was not enough. This latest hiccup started the evening before Thanksgiving 2018 when I found out that the cancer in my colon spread to my liver. Needless to say this has been a rather intense and rather sad Holiday Season. My team of oncologists reported to me that this is stage 4 cancer and that there is between a 20 and 50% survival rate. Not exactly news I wanted to hear. I feel like my body, since hitting 50, has betrayed me, or is telling me that it is tired and has no desire to continue. While most of me still says fuck cancer, I must confess that the betrayal I feel from the Trump administration and from those who support this sociopath, makes it hard for me to feel confidence in beating this fucker cancer.

The past two years have seemed unbearable, as I have seen the decline of empathy and understanding of the Social Contract, if it ever existed. The currently emboldened racism, misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia is allowing us to see the very worst in humanity here in the United States. While it has always existed here, as it is a part of the very fiber of our country, 45 has normalized the worst in humanity. Sadly, 45 and his base of support have no understanding of what a Democracy is or how one works. Even more tragic is that the GOP does not know how a Democracy works, and they have proven they don’t care and thus support 45’s dismantling of our Democracy.

What has been particularly painful in the past three weeks aside from my latest cancer diagnosis, is that 45 is holding the country hostage by shutting down the government until he gets his racist wall. In the words of the late Ronald Reagan, I say: “Mr. Trump, Tear Down This Wall.” Yes, it has gotten so bad that I have to quote a president for whom I have nothing but contempt. Of course, in the world of twisted facts by Fox News which is wired directly to 45’s brain material, the blame is assigned to the Democrats who hold no power in the House or Senate currently. I and most of America continue to weep.

The list of lies and atrocities by Trump and his administration is pages long and interferes with my ability to focus on kicking cancer’s ass. Here is my plan to conquer cancer: I have named the tumor Pat, short for Patriarchy (watch out Trump/Pence), and I have named the port implanted in my chest Mueller to help kill Pat.

My hope is that during the next year, we will see some type of harmony and healing happen in the US and around the globe. That we will not see the pure hate delivered by Fox News, Trump, Pence, Theresa May, Michel Temer, J`anos `Ader, The Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia, and of course Puppet Master Vladimir Putin. Let us hope people will work towards Democracy and dismantle the autocratic governments here and around the globe.

I am fully aware it will take an enormous amount of strength, courage, and determination to beat this cancer over the next year. I am very lucky. I have a beautiful and phenomenal network of friends that are on this ride with me and lift me up when I am tired, and carry me when I can’t walk. Even with this amazing support, I am scared as fuck! For all of us who are currently struggling with cancer, I say we need to unite and know we can’t do this alone and let us love on each other as we belt out our individual and collected voices to Fuck Cancer and Destroy the Patriarchy!