The Big C

A journey through Stage Four Cancer

The Eve Before Christmas Eve

Saw Nate driving up 95 to get me to my Cancer Treatment Center before it closed.  The pain in my left groin and hip had just become too much and my light weight pain pills did nothing to stop the pain, they just induced sleep that was very easy to awaken from.

My physician’s assistant was waiting for me, even though I was late and keeping her on the job so close to Christmas,  The secretary Della was there too.  Della really didn’t have to wait, her day was over, but seeing her and Luchea made me smile through the pain, pain that I secretly was believing was bone cancer.  If I could call on God and ask for a blessing and only good things to happen, I would for Della and Luchea.  Their caring is soo real, it is touchable.

Off for a CAT scan.  Then off to the Emergency Room where I was gifted to meet only with people who cared, or people who knew my present situation, and I appreciated that.  As soon as possible I was given heavy duty pain pills, and as the night wore on, the pain began to lessen.

A sonogram to make sure there wasn’t any blood clots or blockages.  There weren’t any.

News from the CAT scan, the tumors are growing again, and there is even a few new ones.

After Christmas, so tomorrow, time to get my chemo appointments scheduled and start recieving them again.

Pain pills to get me through the day, but now that Christmas is over, I plan to take less of them and offer up the pain for the many people who need my offering up.

I’m sad, it hasn’t even been a whole three months that the tumors have been in remission.  And I’m a bit afraid because I can’t help but wonder if the chemo will stop the tumors, or if my situation will be like Elizabeth Edwards was finally, and be ineffectual.

It was hard to put on a happy face two days later and be merry.

Will this have been my last Christmas?

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Facing Facts

It was time to face facts:  I probably would not be using my home studio again for a while, if ever again.

Then two more facts, I was paying property tax on a room that virtually was unused since my diagnosis of cancer and my son was in a tiny little room while my studio was empty.

So I did it.  It killed me to admit that my studio days are most likely behind me and it killed me to give up my glorious, sunny, mine mine mine studio near to a giant slop sink, but I did.

It is now my son’s room.  A glorious, spacious, wonderful room that has my table and some of my supplies in it, on the off chance that I would ever use it again.

So if you have my artistic creations, treat them as though they are a little more valuable than you thought they were, because they are part of a limited amount of production.

Limited and dead are the two things that make most artists collectible.


I’m giving you one, you’ll have to wait for the other! 🙂

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