Madeline Island was so beautiful. My paintings, however, were not. It was a glorious week all to myself, surrounded by magnificent views of prairie, woodlands, lagoons, bluffs, and mighty Lake Superior. The instructor was also superior, ahem, Mr. Superior. And that’s all I’ll say about that. So, the instruction wasn’t a good fit for me, but the classmates, food and painting locations were perfection. Though I didn’t produce any work to brag about, I did rekindle some dormant skills— Painting from life Value studies Bullshit detecting I’m beginning to really enjoy this Watercolor-Menapause-Yoga Pant-No BS phase of life. Continue reading

Today was a Bed Day. For every three to four Doing Stuff days, I have one Bed Day. I’m working hard to suppress the bad feeling about staying in bed all day (thanks a lot capitalism, Lutheranism and midwestern mythology). I’m working on accepting my “new normal”. The best part about the new normal is Mama’s Bed Time. It’s my favorite time of day. Tonight, I had them both laughing and squealing at cat videos I had saved for them. They LOST THIER SHIT. I haven’t heard them laugh like that in months. So, now I’ll be staying up all... Continue reading

Me: “Therapy was tough this week. She suggested I’m holding on to this grudge because it’s easier and less painful than facing my mortality.” Mom (aged 79): “Well, I’m having to come to terms with it too.” Me: “What is that like for you?” Mom: “Losing you is going to be hard.” Me: “Wait, who are we talking about? YOU or ME?! Do you think you're going to outlive me?!” Mom: “Oops” Continue reading

When I got home from the hospital, the first thing I did was take a long shower and do all the things—shampoo, fancy body wash, every lotion I own. The kids, who didn’t know I was out of the hospital, came home about an hour later and ran right up the steps to jump on me in bed. “Mama’s home!!” “How did you know I was here?” ”We could smell you!” Continue reading

Cancer blew up my life, sepsis has blown up our summer. We’ve had to cancel two of our little summer adventure trips, reschedule our beloved Shaker Village trip, and I missed my painting retreat on Madeline Island. The Madeline Island art school was kind enough to let me roll over about half the cost to another session, so I’m going at the end of the month. But it’s not the same teacher or focus. It’s a bummer. The summer weekend trips have given me so much escape…I would guess most people can see the “bucket list” drive I’ve had for... Continue reading

My arms and hands are bruised from the many many blood draws and IV sticks. My veins became unruly by day two, my skin blooming with purple and green blackberry splotches after every failed attempt. There was never more than three hours of uninterrupted sleep. The second day, my plantar fasciitis erupted out of no where—-excruciating pain when I put any weight on my heels. Hobbling to the bathroom with an IV pole, a failing bladder and useless feet made a few nights almost unbearable. I had sepsis. Staph entered my blood stream most likely through my port; it’s not... Continue reading

It’s been almost a week since we returned from our epic Nebraska road trip, but I’m not yet feeling back at home. We returned Tuesday evening and went right back to work and school, and for me, Chemo on Thursday. I’m having a hard time with this treatment, physically and emotionally. Steeling myself for bad side effects when the initial chemo had an end date was easier. This chemo has no end date, except when it fails me and the cancer spreads, which, hopefully, isn’t for a long time, as in years. So, we HOPE for YEARS of this… Here,... Continue reading

Our trip to Nebraska is full of nostalgia, memories and memories being made. There’ll be more to write (and paint) later, but for now, this gem. Charlie: “Pioneer Village is the BESTEST thing I’ve done in my entire life! Well, almost”. Me: “Almost?” Charlie: “Yah, I don’t know yet” Me: “What do you mean?” Charlie, gesturing wide: “Well, I DO have MORE life” Continue reading

Bald Reality I’m a middle aged, menopausal midwestern mom with a chip on her shoulder about unrealized artistic potential. I have deep-seated insecurities about my ability to create “real” art and be a “real” artist. So, I use self deprecating humor to dodge any real discussion about my goals or vision. Also, I hate the word vision. I don’t have one, I just like to paint. Somewhere along the line I learned to feel better about my own abilities (and lack of education) by internally judging other amateur artists work with snobbery. I did this the most when I wasn’t... Continue reading

Someone once said that my Mom and I are so alike we “are like one person”. That was odd, and kinda creepy. We are our own people, but I think, given some grace, what they meant was that we are in synch, simpatico, strongly bonded. We are close, but able to have conflict. Loving, but not best friends. She is a mom, not a buddy. And thank goodness, because when I fucked up or when I was fucked up or now as my life is getting fucked up, I needed a MOM. This Mom. This woman who in just two... Continue reading

The arrival of midwestern Spring has been slow and temperamental. The kids have been restless and temperamental. I ask them to play outside for at least a few minutes every night after dinner. I have visions of their youth spent playing in a bucolic garden, on a leafy charming street of bungalows as the sunlight dims and the vintage streetlights glow… So far, I’ve had to bring them back inside for screaming at “bloody murder” levels because: -The hose was too slippery -Felix told Charlie he was annoying -There was a puddle -Charlie had the worst day of his life,... Continue reading

I had an unsettling interaction with a provider this week. I was seeking some physical therapy relief for my Woody Fibrosis Neck (caused by radiation), chest scar adhesions, and restricted range of motion on the right side. Pretty basic stuff that my usual PT handles well, but this provider was recommended to me because she does Myofascial Release, a relatively new massage/PT technique. The hope was it might do wonders for the chest adhesions and fibrosis especially. What was not new, to me, were the red flags of a provider who doesn’t really get it. There was no robe to... Continue reading

I’ve been ruminating on being 50, dying younger then I planned, and what I want to be when I grow up. It’s been a challenging few months; the recent down slope of this Cancer roller coaster has been a long, slow descent this winter and now into spring. I’m working on a larger scale painting, something new and also challenging. Charlie visits my table each evening and offers his critique: “I like it, it looks just like the picture except without that leaf”. “I’m getting nervous.” “Afraid you’re going to fuck it up?” Oh darling yes. Exactly. Continue reading

The season to be overwhelmed, over budget and over scheduled. I’m opting out of a lot of things, streamlining the holiday chaos. But tonight we could not escape. There are TWO parties tonight. One birthday, one holiday. For kids. The kids explain the parties: “Mine is a sleep under but you don’t have to wear pajamas. You can wear regular clothes. But maybe bring a blanket. I wanna bring a small blanket, not a big blanket. No, not that one, a different one.” ”Mine isn’t sleep under, but I need a separate bag for my clothes just in case we... Continue reading

It was a rough week, made rougher by interrupting a holiday. Though, honestly I didn’t mind the timing that much because my customers were also unavailable. That was one less thing I had to worry about. An empty inbox is very healing. Also very healing are all the wonderful, thoughtful, courageous people in our lives. Thank you ——- My rock of a sister-in-law who was unfazed by the dramatic change in plans, and cared for my kids for four days, keeping them full of Thanksgiving treats and distractions. My other rock of a sister-in-law who always says insightful and compassionate... Continue reading

Diagnosis (sort of) So, I was admitted for hypoxia and suspected congestive heart failure. My oxygen level was low and that troponin level (heart damage indicator) was high. On the second night I had an “attack” of pericarditis, an excruciating and frightening episode of extreme chills and intense chest pain, caused by inflammation of the sack around the heart. Enter the “Rapid Response Team”. Exit Paulie’s composure. For the next five days they lowered my blood pressure, raised my blood pressure, increased my oxygen, decreased my oxygen, raised my heart rate, slowed my heart rate, dehydrated me, rehydrated me….felt like... Continue reading

Within minutes at Urgent Care, we realized it wasn’t urgenty enough, so we zipped down the road to the Emergency Room. The secret to fast service? Chest pains and a Smurf-like complexion. My oxygen level was 76, my chest had a tire on it, the portable chest X-ray showed my lungs were full of fluid. The moment the nurse flung back the curtain and said “Yep, you’re getting admitted”, I relaxed, gave in to the situation and absolutely luxuriated in the oxygen. The days that followed were a mess of medications, IVs, blood thinners, heart monitors, scans, machines, a lot... Continue reading

It started Saturday, I assume as a virus. Chills, fever, and an intense headache. Covid test negative. Then a strange stiff neck, like a vise. More fevers and chills, still Covid negative. Feeling a bit better on Sunday, ok this is just a cold or flu. Terrible body aches, but no cough and no congestion, the fever broke. Monday I stayed home to rest and in case I was contagious. Another Covid test negative. By Tuesday I was short of breath. But that’s a side effect I’m used to, so it was manageable. Until it wasn’t. Tuesday night I slept... Continue reading

"You can beat this." No, I can’t. Nothing I do will change how the cancer acts or how I respond to the treatment. "You're so strong." No, I'm not. I'm just silent. If I gave voice to what I really feel, I'd physically and mentally crumble and I can't afford that. It's not strength, it's just lack of a safe space to be as weak as I actually am. Related: "You'll keep fighting." What? What is fighting? I do the treatment, I suffer and I wait. There is no fighting. Nothing I do or don't do has any effect on... Continue reading

Well, that was fast. I had a clear PET scan on August 24th, just a day before my prophylactic hysterectomy surgery. A week after surgery, when meeting to review my medication switch, my oncologist reviewed the scan results and used the word “remission”. It was the first time I felt truly hopeful and relaxed. I even asked awkward Dr Puffer for a hug and he obliged with a smile. I’m not a hugger, he’s not a smiler. It was a great day. Paulie said, and thus cursed us, as we drove down the familiar hospital drive, “Well,we won’t have to... Continue reading

Mom: “I finally figured it out! I finally realized why you got so into plants!” Me, and all my house plants around me in the corners, listening. Mom, enthusiastically: ”You were desperate to keep SOMETHING alive!” . . . Me: “You mean I was interested in being surrounded by living things?” Mom: “Oh, yes, that does sound better.” Continue reading

I think a lot about Charlie going from age 3, still potty training, to age 6, starting first grade, during The Pandemic. And The Cancer. It’s been tough on the little guy. On all of us. He can be demanding, he talks constantly (and I mean CONSTANTLY), and he’s stubborn. And he hates change. And he’s inflexible. He’s also incredibly quick minded and loves a debate. Did I mention he’s stubborn? I have had many days when I was at the bottom of my parenting skills for this style of child. But lately, I’ve had break through moments. Not him,... Continue reading

I had my chest revision surgery on Thursday. Some women are built so that the initial mastectomy surgery, if they go Flat, leaves a pleasing flat and smooth chest. Others, usually those built like me, are left with a moonscape of craters and lumps. Needing second surgery, usually a day surgery and relatively minor, isn’t unusual. I had, as my child described it, “two little matzo balls” in the middle of my chest. The extra skin where the stitches came together under my arms left me with annoying flesh pillow corners, called dog ears. The center nubbins were always sore,... Continue reading

I’ve written and rewritten todays post, alternating between feeling bold and feeling uncomfortable. Here goes bold: Abortion made me a good mother. When I was 17, my birth control failed. I knew immediately that abortion was my choice. I knew I was supposed to feel bad about it, and I did some performative dramatics about it, but truly all I actually felt was deep relief. And a little embarrassment.. I WAS careful, I did know how to prevent it, I thought I did everything right. It still happened. But what didn’t happen, thanks to a legal abortion clinic in my... Continue reading

It’s the most embarrassing time of the year. The windows are open and Mama is hopin’ that no one can heeeear! The family is yelling, the neighbors are selling To get out of heeeeeere! It’s the most embarrassing time of the year! There’ll be voices to lower, Unless there’s a mower! Siblings are out of control Soon the whole block will know It’s the most embarrassing time of the year! Continue reading