Learning to Dance in the Rain

My hair is falling out in huge handfuls. So today I went shopping for scarves. I found one that is tie-dyed in beautiful colors, and one that I can wrap around my head. And then there is a headband that I will wear under my straw hat. A good friend sent me the following piece called “Attitude.” I loved it and it seemed so appropriate to the occasion of losing my hair, that I thought I would share it with all of you. We can all learn to dance in the rain.

ATTITUDE

There once was a woman who woke up one morning,
looked in the mirror,
and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
'Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.'

So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up,
looked in the mirror
and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
'H-M-M,' she said,
'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.'

So she did and she had a grand day.

The next day she woke up,
looked in the mirror and noticed
that she had only one hair on her head.
'Well,' she said, 'today I'm going
to wear my hair in a pony tail.'

So she did, and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up,
looked in the mirror and noticed
that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
'YAY!' she exclaimed.
'I don't have to fix my hair today!'

Attitude is everything.

Be kinder than necessary,
for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...
It's about learning to dance in the rain.
.

Another Day at the Market

No dogs allowed in the market... shucks!

(All photos by P. L. Morningstar)

Birthday Celebration

My son Greg is visiting me from Sedona, Arizona. His visit coincided with his 45th birthday, so yesterday we celebrated his special day by taking him to Fairhaven for lunch at the legendary Colophon Cafe. When it came time for dessert Greg ordered a decadent concoction of chocolate chunk cake covered with hot fudge sauce, whipped cream, vanilla ice cream, and chocolate shavings. The waitress heard that it was Greg's birthday, so she added three candles... for present, past, and future. And yes, he ate the whole thing. He is a long distance runner, which helps to explain how he stays so slim.

... PLM

Family Portrait

(photo by Melanie Hester)

Where do we live?

Where do you live? That innocent question has been difficult to answer lately. But now that we have made the decision to sell our property in British Columbia, it is becoming easier… we live in Bellingham. There is no better way to put the word “cancer” out of your mind than to immerse yourself into a new community. There are all the details to take care of like opening up a new bank account, checking out the public library, introducing ourselves to the Buddhist meditation center, getting to know the folks at the Avenue Bread and Deli, and finding a veterinarian for Misty. And last night Bob attended a Whatcom County Council meeting to support a proposed sales tax increase to bolster mental health and substance abuse treatment. Members of the public packed the council's chambers to speak on the tax and in more than 31/2 hours of public testimony more than 50 people spoke in favor of it. A retired Clinical Psychologist, Bob already has more than a passing interest in the subject. Now that we live in Bellingham and it is a community issue, it takes on even more importance.

Oops! Today my hair has begun to fall out.

... PLM

Living in Watership Down

At any given moment we can look out a window in Hannah’s cottage and see a bunny rabbit munching on white clover blossoms or a leaf of grass. Last night we counted six bunnies of various sizes and ages. They pop out of the blackberry brambles or sit beside the Buddha statue under the stately fir tree. Returning from an evening walk, Bob stopped to talk to a neighbor and the conversation turned to the abundance of wild rabbits. “It’s like living in Watership Down,” the neighbor remarked. It’s wonderful to see this acceptance of the wild creatures in a suburban setting… not only acceptance, but actually creating a natural habitat for them like Hannah has. Misty the cat spends his day moving from one windowsill to another to keep track of the bunnies, squirrels, birds, and an occasional deer. It is not the northern wilderness setting that we have enjoyed for the past two years. There are no black bears, or wolves, or mountain lion. But it is a way to remain connected to that other world… to “all our relations,” as the indigenous people say.

And for those who wonder how I am doing, I can honestly say that I feel better now than I have for months. Breathing has improved greatly and my energy level increased. I am scheduled for another round of chemotherapy on July 28th. Many thanks to all who have been sending prayers and good, healing thoughts. I don’t know what the outcome will be, but I am grateful for the full and enriching days that I am enjoying now.

... PLM

Saturday Market

... PLM

Peak Season

I love raspberries. I love all the other berries too, but red raspberries are my absolute favorite. I think it is more than flavor that tempts me to shell out $3.99 in the middle of winter for a tiny box of raspberries, against all my principles for only buying local produce and in season. It is the memory of hot July days in southern Oregon, crouched in the shade of six-foot high raspberry canes and reaching up to find the biggest, plumpest raspberries that grew hidden under the dark tangle of leaves. I was supposed to be picking berries for the raspberry jam that my Grandmother put up every summer. I doubt that they would’ve been surprised to know that as many raspberries were popped into my mouth as went into the saucepan that lay at my feet. But they might have been surprised to know that an older boy cousin taught me how to French kiss while picking raspberries. Innocent days of childhood… in another time. And now it is July again. Peak season for my favorite berry. On Thursday we drove to LaConner in the rich Skagit Valley farmlands. Along the road were handmade signs advertising freshly picked berries for sale at the Berry Barn. Of course we stopped. We bought a whole flat of mixed berries and a frozen boysenberry pie to take home and bake. The raspberries taste not quite, but almost as good with my granola and yogurt breakfast as they did on those hot summer days in my grandparent’s raspberry patch.

... PLM

Braidless

I still have hair, or at least some of it. I had more or less been guaranteed that my hair would soon be falling out due to my chemotherapy treatments. I didn’t want to wait to find clumps of hair lying on my pillow some morning or coming out by the handfuls as I lathered my hair in the shower. And I wanted to save my long single braid. So while I was getting my first chemo treatment on the 7th, Bob asked the nurses at the infusion center if they could recommend someone for haircutting. He was told that Wendy Bevan in Fairhaven specialized in cuts for cancer patients. So Bob made an appointment for the two of us - he had decided that if I was going to be hairless, so would he.

Today was the day. I had prepared myself for a buzz cut, but Wendy said, “Let’s give you a ‘fun’ cut instead, to tide you over to the real ‘falling out’ stage.” The big moment came when the scissors snipped off the braid that represented two years of growing and living off the grid. Bob’s silver white hair was saved for another day and Wendy pronounced that the cut she gave him was a George Clooney look. She spent an hour and a half with us and when we asked how much we owed her she said, “Nothing. This is my way of giving back for the good health I enjoy.” In 2006 she started an organization called Tender Loving Hair, using her thirty years of experience to help cancer patients feel better about themselves and their appearance. Thank you Wendy for your gift.

Wendy Bevan, Tender Loving Hair

... PLM

Chapter's End

Two years ago exactly we packed all our belongings into a U-Haul truck and headed north to this small log cabin in the Skeena River Valley of northern B.C. The time we spent there was immeasurable in its richness of challenges and experiences. Where else could we live side by side with wolves, bears, cougars, and an active beaver pond as our closest neighbor? The Seven Sisters Mountain hovered over our cabin, a protective guardian through all the seasons of the year. We made life long friends and shared their ups and down. Sadly, we must close that chapter of our lives. We have made the hard decision to put our cabin and 123 acres up for sale. More details will follow in future postings.

... PLM

Change the World by Finding Hope

The column by Silver Donald Cameron in this morning's Halifax paper reminded me of your journey of hope across the country.

... Jane

This morning I opened my e-mail to find the above note from my good friend Jane in Nova Scotia. I met her last fall in Annapolis Royal on our cross-country trip “Looking for Hope.” She and three others stood on a busy street corner holding up anti-war signs. For me, it was a sign of hope. And the article that Jane sent to me is another. Due to the length of the article I will post only a portion, but I urge everyone to click to the Chronicle Herald website to read the whole thing. You will be glad you did. We can all use a big dose of HOPE right now. Thanks Jane.


Change the world by finding hope

By SILVER DONALD CAMERON
Sun. Jul 13 - 7:16 AM


'ENVIRONMENTALISM has become a sort of mythology of death -- passionate, lyrical, righteous and hopeless," says Chris Turner. It has "failed as a common language of hope or a ritual of rebirth. It has failed as myth."

Eloquent -- and painfully accurate. Fear and hopelessness are useless -- emotions that make people numb and passive, preventing them from taking useful action. As Turner notes, would all those people in Washington have been inspired if Martin Luther King had stood before them and declared, "I have a nightmare today?"

So Turner set out to find what he calls "the archipelago of hope," places and initiatives where people are aware of the environmental crisis – but attack the problems with imagination, exuberance and optimism. The result is a stimulating new book, The Geography of Hope (Random House Canada, $34.95).

Turner takes as his mantra Kenneth Boulding's observation, "Anything that exists is possible." He sets out to see not only what might be, or could be, but what is. Is there, for instance, a really prosperous city where people normally travel on first-class public transit, where car ownership is restricted and heavily taxed, where the remaining cars are often powered by hydrogen fuel cells? Well, yes, that would be Singapore. And if Singaporeans can do it, so can others.

Go to www.thechronicleherald.ca/NovaScotian/1067346.html for the rest of the article.

In a Pharmaceutical Stew

Never in my life have I seen, nor taken so many pills. They come in all sizes, colors, and shapes. Some are to be taken twice a day, some three times a day. Others are to be taken “as needed.” Pills for anti-nausea, acid reflux, pain, cough suppressant, thyroid, antibiotic, constipation, plus supplements such as fish oil, calcium D, multi-vitamin, baby aspirin, etc. etc. My head is in a whirl trying to keep it all straight. I even dream about pills. With all of that added to my first round of chemotherapy, it is no wonder that yesterday I wandered around in a “chemo fog,” fuzzyheaded and greatly fatigued. Today is better, and thank goodness Bob is here to help me keep track of all those pills.

... PLM

Sitting in the Throne Chair

Yesterday I reclined in a soft padded chair for six and a half hours while others waited upon me. The benadryl put me into a pleasant state of floating slightly above the activity going on around me. Bob and I watched a couple of episodes on “Curb your Enthusiasm” on a DVD. Laughter is good. When I spilled a cup of water, Jeff was there to clean up the mess. Meanwhile thousands of dollars of chemo was slowly dripping into my bloodstream… Taxol, Avastin, and Carboplatin… a chemical cocktail designed to aggressively attack my specific lung cancer. Whether or not it is true, I feel like I am buying more time. It is hard for me to imagine all that stuff flowing through my body today. So far I have not experienced any ill effects. My food still tastes good and I have had no nausea. My first experience receiving chemotherapy was a good one, with caring and helpful nurses, a sense of sharing the experience with other patients in the room – overhearing at least two conversations about cats – many of the patients were already hairless, a fate I will soon share with them.

... PLM

Bringing Fireworks to Mom

Gifts can be as quiet as a hug or as loud as whizzing, bursting, explosive stars in the sky. Lately I have been given a little of each. My son Jeff came for a visit this Fourth of July weekend. He brought with him a large box labeled “Aerial Bombardment” that he had purchased in Vancouver on his drive up I-5 from Oregon… “These are legal in Washington,” he said with a big smile, “so I thought I’d bring Fourth of July fireworks to Mom.” Should I be surprised? No. For my birthday several years ago Jeff had a star named for me with all the appropriate certification and galactic map to locate its exact position in the sky. Our problem was where to shoot off the aerial bombardment. The house just below the cottage belongs to Bellingham’s assistant fire chief and setting off our explosive arsenal in the neighborhood didn’t seem like such a good idea. I suggested driving to Fairhaven and the area near the Alaska ferry terminal. So we loaded ourselves, the fireworks, and my new chaise lounge lawn chair into the Jeep at around 9 o’clock, and drove to Fairhaven. Amazingly we found just what we were looking for… a large gravel parking lot had been cordoned off, the dry grass flattened with protective netting, and families arriving with their own fireworks… a mass sharing of fun in a safe environment. There were Roman candles, boomers, smoke bombs, children with sparklers, and the more elaborate aerial displays. But everyone agreed, Jeff’s were the best. I sat in my lawn chair, eyes to the sky and watched the stars explode above my head. Bob bent down and whispered in my ear… “We’ll plan on doing this again next year.” At 10:30 we could see off in the distance the big firework show in Bellingham Bay. The crowd whooped and hollered when it was all over, including me. And I know I would not have been here had it not been for my son’s gift of fireworks.

... PLM

A Celebration - of sorts

We had an early fireworks display last night, provided by Mother Nature. Nothing short of spectacular with pink bolts jagging across the sky, illuminating our darkened bedroom. In the past any cat of ours would have hidden under the bed. Misty sat by the window mesmerized by the dazzling display. Brave cat.

I was told yesterday that I might experience flu-like symptoms after my Zometa infusion… and I did. A little nausea, fever and chills, achiness and headache. Small price to pay and usually only with the first and possibly the second treatment. The biggest news is that my first chemotherapy treatment will begin on Monday morning at 8 am. It seems like we have waited so long for this… in reality it has only been a little over a month, but anxiety sets in when you hear ‘six months to live if left untreated.’ Looking at the appointment written on the calendar that is given to us, I’m not sure how I feel. Relieved of course. But it seems that every waking hour of the day circles around my cancer. I hope we can reach a point where we can talk about something else; when I can work on something other than just surviving. I have to believe that time will come.

… PLM

HOPE

Hope costs nothing to give and is priceless to have. … Vickie Girard

Some days are brighter than others. This was one of the bright days. At the cottage a beautiful flower opened its bloom on one of Hannah’s houseplants – I’m not sure whether it is a cactus, or succulent – but the creamy white blossom is spectacular. And as I sat at the kitchen table, I watched the first hummingbird come to the new feeder that our friends Lee and Melanie gave us last week.

Early this morning I sat in a large green recliner with an IV drip delivering the first of any kind of treatment. It wasn’t chemotherapy… that particular decision is yet to be decided. (The biopsy report we have been waiting for came back negative, showing that I do not have the genetic marker needed to start me on Tarceva, the oral lung cancer treatment.) The infusion I received this morning is designed to help protect and strengthen the bones in cancer patients whose cancer has metastasized to the bone. When I mentioned to the nurse that I could taste the drug at the back of my throat, she offered me a peppermint candy to counteract that. I politely said no thanks. Today that metallic taste meant that something was getting started and it was a taste I wanted to savor. Bob took the peppermint instead.

Later I had an appointment with my pulmonologist. I was looking for someone who would be on my side, who would work WITH me in my desire to fight lung cancer, however slight the odds. The doctor listened to my concerns and addressed each of them. He explained to me that the reason survival statistics are so bad for lung cancer patients is that at least 50 percent of them also have emphysema or other major health problems that will probably kill them anyway. I have taken good care of my health my whole life. I’ve never smoked, maintain a diet of chicken, fish, whole grains, and fruits and vegetables… I even LIKE broccoli, and over the years I’ve religiously scheduled annual PAP tests and mammograms. I’ve lived an active lifestyle. I want that to count for something. Yes I know, even healthy people can get killed in a car accident or just crossing the road. But even though this may feel like a car accident, it is not. My healthy heart is still pumping, my left lung is performing extra duty and my immune system has not yet been compromised. I don’t have any of the ailments that can afflict people of my age. Enough said. You get the picture. And so does my doctor. I am blessed with the love and support of friends and family. Bob is always at my side. But to have HOPE, I also need the advocacy of medical professionals. That is what I gained today. A big hug from my doctor brought the tears that I rarely shed… kindness and hope always does that to me.

Hope and positivity are two different things. You can have hope and not be positive every single day, but you can’t have a single moment of positivity without hope. … Vickie Girard

... PLM