GROINSTRONG

the scan is clean, with minor reservations. kathryn and i both expressed a deep desire for the answers to be black and white – either i’m totally in the clear, or not. obviously we don’t *want* to deal with a recurrence, but the fuzziness of the answers (and many scans) can be deeply unsettling.

so: my scan overall was very positive, though i have some mildly suspicious bowel inflammation. given all my insides have endured – the countless tiny tumors have left their mark, not to mention the big resection last year – it’s not surprising that they wouldn’t be at 100%. my team and i are mostly confident that the inflammation isn’t anything dangerous, but given my history, it’s important that we take a closer look. some time within the next week i’ll get a dual endoscopy (throat and colon) – it’s old hat for me at this point (i can’t even remember how many colonoscopies i’ve had) – though that doesn’t make the prep process any more pleasant. i’m hoping to get the procedure and biopsies wrapped up before we head to new mexico next weekend (!!!!) – it’d be nice to head out on vacation having a firm idea of what the future holds.

at least as firm as it gets.

wow, it’s been forever. in the past month, i’ve celebrated the 90th birthday of my beloved grandmother linda, had both my sister, sister-in-law and brother-outlaw visit our fair borough, celebrated the kentucky derby and star wars day (may the fourth be with you!) simultaneously – oh, and i’ve also quietly marked the passing of five years since my diagnosis. i’m now officially part of the eight percent of late-stage melanoma patients who survive five years. that bears repeating: eight. percent. though treatment for melanoma has seen a paradigm shift since i was diagnosed, long-term survival studies have yet to catch up. so, yeah, i’m feeling pretty lucky.

but i’ve also lost friends (arijit especially), and had a ton – far too many – friends who’ve approached me for resources to deal with the diagnosis of a loved one. booo for cancer. boo, i say.

i have so much to share, but i have dinner to make – for now, i just wanted to let you all know that tomorrow i’ll get the results of my six month scan. i’m not especially concerned, but it’s always a bit of a scary time. i’ll be sure to take a moment to fill you all in as soon as i hear from my oncologist. fingers crossed!

ralph stanley’s high and lonesome sound is in my head, not playing in my ears but reverberating in my soul. there are few voices that can capture pain and heartbreak and ecstasy and joy the way that his does.

one of the great privileges of a cancer diagnosis is immediate and permanent membership into an elite group of remarkable individuals: the survivors. i’ve met so many incredible folks along this journey – and then i’ve watched them die. witnessing a friend wither away is pain beyond pain. when disease begins its inexorable march, there are no words of comfort, no inspirational kittens hanging from branches, no wonder drugs or master cleanses or raw food diets or [insert magical unlikely cure here] that will stop the inevitable. granted, life itself inevitably leads to death, but in order to go about our daily lives, to make and achieve our goals, we have to fool ourselves a bit.

tell ourselves that our lives are huge and wondrous. which they are, of course.

but they are finite.

terminal illness breaks down that fallacy. it places our mortality in our hands and walks away, leaving us to stagger under the weight of our own fragility, our temporal nature, the uninfinity that is our existence.

and yet.

and yet those who face the end-times are still with us. they are not gone, though their corporeal presence may crumble and wash away like a sandcastle at high tide. when my treatment finally took my hair, i could watch my body quite literally going down the drain. bezoars of loss.

and yet, how blessed i am to have come through the last five years relatively unscathed – though it’s been tortuous, i have all my limbs, all my senses and (most of) my hair. i’m met plenty of survivors who lost far, far more.

i’ve just gotten the news that another friend, a survivor and a brave, courageous man, has run out of options to treat his disease and has moved to home hospice. we met some time back when he was visiting new york, and his bright spirit was visible from space. we talked shop, compared scars, shared war stories. we gloried in our luck to each have partners who loved and cared for us even as we leaked unspeakable fluids onto them and asked them to spend their weekends at the hospital in uncomfortable chairs at our bedsides and filled their lives with worry and poverty and pain. we agreed we were lucky.

but sometimes, luck runs out.

my friend, i think today of that sunny day in the west village when we met. i imagine your spirit soaring, even now, over the west village, joining the pigeons in the fountain, climbing to the top of the arch in washington square, watching over the winter-weary, the dealers of smack, the ever-expanding collegial margins, the brave and battered homeless, the red tails in love, the denuded trees with their hidden promise of spring. of green. of life.

that message is in the empty box when i start a new post. i like to think of it as a place in my brain (or, alternatively, my bellybutton, or groin, or shoulder monster) that i tap to begin writing.

obviously, i haven’t tapped into that side of me much recently.

it’s not my only creative pursuit that’s fallen by the wayside. i’ve taken a break from painting since i’ve moved my studio back home – with our transition to the first floor of our house, we now have a whole floor of our marvelous brownstone to ourselves, so the extra room is her arts & crafting station and my painting studio. we spent much of sunday moving the pieces into place and i’d love to be painting right now… but first i have to go to the dentist.

belllllllleccchhh. i know i have at least one cavity. at least i’m finally going to a real dentist – back in my pre-insurance days, i used to go to a dentistry college for free cleanings. the students would move so slowly that after two hours, only half of my teeth would be clean and i’d have to come back later to finish the job. you know how distracting it is to run your tongue along cleaned teeth? it feels great but it takes some getting used to, right? it was so strange to have just the bottom row, or only the right side of my mouth clean. it’ll be nice to have a pro at work again.

i’m finally, *finally* free of the morphine, and i couldn’t be happier – but my lord, it was a horrendous couple weeks. getting the drug out of my system took far longer than i ever imagined it could. i know that the half-life of the drug is most likely far less than it took for me to process, but i found that the medication was propping up the inner workings of my much-maligned gastrointestinal tract (or as i like to call it, my semi-colon), so i’ve had quite a bit of equalizing to work through. there were days where it felt like i was prepping for a colonoscopy – it would have been risky leaving the house.

i’m glad it’s over. so, so glad.

after the dentist, i’m going to my neighbor’s house to record our episode of the newlywed game – for those of you who didn’t catch it, i’ll get it online as soon as i can! kat and i are getting SO excited for our trip to santa fe – we’ll be there may 18-24. may in new mexico? yes please!!!

has it really been so long since i’ve posted here? long-time readers may remember that when i drop off the map for a while, it’s because i’m not doing so well. that’s far from the truth this time. the reality is that i now (as of next week) have five families on my weekly roster. most of them require only a few hours a week, but it’s all adding up, and, as i expected, the regular short shifts extend to full days on a regular basis. as much as i love working with kids, it is absolutely exhausting, and i’ve needed every bit of my down time to recover.

i think every day about what i could post, but honestly, i’m closing in on some semblance of normalcy, and, well, normalcy lacks the intense drama of say, fighting off a terminal illness. do you want to hear about how i was so tired at the end of my eight-hour day with a two-year-old that i melted my brain with a couple episodes of true blood? also i read some comics and checked the news about the impending super bowl (go niners!). oh! and i did my laundry.

what a crazy night, right?

i apologize if any of you were concerned – as i said, i usually avoid posting when i get down on myself, but that’s not the case at all. i don’t have time to feel down, which is a dramatic change from the past few years. on top of my kid supervision, kathryn and i are switching apartments (within our present house, which we hope to never leave!) next week, and i’m moving my studio back home – given my scheduling constraints, i was having trouble getting down to the studio before my afternoon shifts with kids. since the studio is a shared space, i have to set up and break down each time i come to work, which i don’t mind so much but it makes it tough to get any momentum, and if, for instance, it’s a monday and i only work with kids for a couple hours, i have to reset entirely if i return that evening. kathryn and i are going to set up our new space in a way that will allow her room to craft/sew/decoupage and for me to paint. i’m excited for the change, as i have a ton of outstanding commissions that have fallen by the wayside as i tend to my flock.

also, i’m nearly two months into a course of twice-weekly personal training sessions at the expert hands of a former air force captain, an all-around excellent individual and a close friend. just to clarify, those are all the same person – some of you might remember jon from his HOO-AH! toast at our wedding (is that how you spell HOOAH? HUA?). it feels so good to be restoring my broken body to some semblance of its former strength.

given my bad habits of sleeping late and idling around the house (granted, habits that were latent but significantly worsened by cancer treatment, understandably i think), it’s a joy to be up early with kathryn every morning, seeing the light cast across brooklyn from the east (how bizarre!!), discovering the awe-inspiring range of colors and smells that emanate from the gowanus canal (RIP gowanus dolphin!!), getting to enjoy the day rather than waking up late and feeling sorry for/angry with myself.

because i am SO done with treating myself like that.

well, friends and family, it’s christmas day! i hope you’re able to spend it happily ensconced around the hearth with loved ones, or at least in close contact with those far away. i can think of a handful of you who face the holiday dearly missing your recently departed, and to you i send compassion and strength. we’re especially missing our dog maggie, as this is our first trip to the twin cities since her quiet passing. the wind chill is in the single digits, so i suppose it’s a blessing that no one has to walk her today. still, she was much loved and is much mourned.

i don’t want to spend a ton of time posting, but kathryn got me a new wireless keyboard for my ipad (along with many other, more personal gifts) so i just *had* to sit down and try it out. i don’t like taking my laptop to the studio, but it’s nice to have the ability to write while i’m there and the touch keyboard is a bit above passable. so now i can (hopefully) be better about responding to email!

though some of you aren’t christian – i’m not exactly a “christ is lord” kind of guy myself – i adore the traditions and the focused family time the season brings. any reminder to love, respect, and care for each other is just fine by me. and i’d trade all the gifts in the world for this chance to celebrate here in st. paul, gathering with my family (though we miss the wilkenings terribly!) and the community of unity church, without the spectre of illness hanging over our heads. Having spent much of the past year beating back the noontime demons of severe depression and overwhelming anxiety, i feel so ready for all the promise that 2013 holds.

much love to you all, and happy holidays!

My new nanny-heavy schedule plus the craziness of the season has limited my posting. I have yet to finish my tale of the manatees, or address the Newtown tragedy – not that I would know where to begin wading into that sea of heartbreak, grief, pain and anger.

I’m about to start an afternoon of focused gift-making, but before I begin I wanted to make sure and let you know that it’s Thursday again – which means that The Newlywed Game airs tonight! We’re hoping our episode is on this time – as a reminder, the four episodes are on Game Show Network (GSN) from 8 to 10 pm. We’re working on getting a copy (the show doesn’t provide one), so if you miss it, hopefully we can upload it so you can see us embarrass ourselves on television…

sorry to those of you who were all geared up to watch the show last night. the producers warned us that the airdate might shift a bit. all i can recommend is that you record it next thursday (the solstice!) and hope for the best. you’ll know right away if it’s our episode by checking out the host – if she has long-ish hair and is wearing a green dress, then it just might be our episode.

i’m hoping it’s on next thursday, because then we can watch it with my fam in st. paul. if you’re wondering how we did, you’ll just have to wait another week (at least!).

Sorry for the late final notice – our episode of the Newlywed Game is supposed to air tonight on GSN as one of four between 8 and 10 pm (Eastern). Set your DVRs, because once these air we don’t get a copy and they’re not posted online.

Can you believe I still haven’t told my own mother how we did? “But I’m your mother!” she said. “But I signed an non-disclosure agreement!” I responded, though what I meant was, “You’re a gossip and poor keeper of secrets!” Sorry mom. True.

I’ve spent the day with one of my many part-time children and got too busy to remember to give y’all more advance notice of the broadcast. Hope you can catch it!

This week I’ve started putting out into the world that I’m looking for work, and the world has responded, at least a little. Much of the interest has come from folks looking for childcare, which is a delightful possibility. Over the years, I’ve taught preschool and nannied for a few families, and I find working with young children (ages 3 to 6 is really my wheelhouse) to be rejuvenating and restoring of my faith in the inherent goodness of humanity. Subsidizing my painting by being on call for a handful of families sounds like a pretty good way to make a living, and it gives the flexibility to pursue my many other professional avenues (writing, voiceover work, etc.).

I’m amazed at how dramatically different I feel after just a week of focused activity, getting out of the house and starting to break the cycle of wallowing in depression and anxiety. There’s still lots of work to be done, but I’m trying to be patient with myself as I take small steps towards wholeness. Thanks to all of you who’ve reached out and offered a comforting word or potential work. Surviving cancer is a community effort, and without the support of all of you, my recent hard times would have been impossible to manage. Frankly, you’ve kept me alive.

And now Kathryn and I get a mini-vacation! I’m on my way to JFK to meet her for our flight to Tampa – one of her cousins is getting married! I wish we were able to stay past Sunday afternoon, to see my brother Michael and to visit Discovery Cove, where they offer the chance to swim with dolphins. You spend the morning training with your dolphin in a pool and in the afternoon, when you’ve developed a little rapport with your designated aquatic mammal, you hang on to its dorsal fin as it swims out into the ocean. Doesn’t that sound awesome? And expensive? Bonus: the terminally ill and their families get to go for free! We’ll make it there some day. In the meantime, we’ve scheduled the next best thing: swimming with the manatees! We’re getting up at dawn tomorrow and heading out to rub some serious sea cow belly. Kathryn got an underwater disposable camera, so pictures are forthcoming…