Fortunate Son

A postal worker in Connecticut is sitting in her mail truck and a tree falls onto her vehicle and kills her. A woman in the Bronx is struck by an arrow that comes out of nowhere and she dies. A piece of steel falls off a truck on the LIE and a man is killed when it pierces his windshield. How is it that I am alive and these people, surely deserving of long lives, are not?


A new year, a new decade approaches (although there is some dispute on that - does 2010 signal the end of one decade or the beginning of another? Discuss). There is SO MUCH that I was blessed to experience this year (good and bad - we miss you Julie!) and once again I am reminded of my good fortune to live here in America, to live in these times of medical miracles, to live in comfort with the ability to afford health care (for now anyway...we'll see what transpires in the coming year), to live with family and friends and neighbors and colleagues who provide unending support, to live knowing my freedoms are fought for and protected by a courageous group of military men (shout out to DJ) and women, to live with love and laughter and light and, yes, sometimes lunacy.


Look at those faces above...could the blessings I enjoy be any more obvious? Our Christmas celebrations were wonderful - I pray all of yours were as well.


I do not know what the next decade will bring, or if I will be around to celebrate its end. I would be lying if I said it wasn't something I ever think about - of course it is. The reflection of "What have I been able to enjoy?" is almost always followed by its corollary, "What will I miss if I am gone too soon?" And more often than not, it is the mundane things I think about: not being around to help decorate Taryn's first apartment; missing out on assisting Ian with his first real job interview; wanting to be at Emily's when she hosts her first family get-together (vegetarian meal included); watching Warren put the final touches on our house (OK, fine, that wouldn't really happen if I lived to be 150 anyhow). But you get the picture - no yin without the yang.


Will fortune smile on me for 10 more years?


Blessings and Love to All - and a special set of prayers for the Ryan family (Magda, Rob, Chris and Maddie), who lost husband, Dad, and FDNY first-responder Jim Ryan on Christmas morning after a series of Ground Zero-related illnesses took its final toll. Our thoughts are with all of you on Earth and with Jim in Heaven.

Christmas Wrapping

The Upper Lou Avenue Ladies Holiday Night of Hoopla - many thanks to Jill, Mary, Carol, Sandra, Michelle and MJ who help to remind me of the important things in life (and no, Sandra, it's not "hot tub hopping!").

I am convinced that the only reason my doctors want to see me (for now anyway) is so that they can admire their own handiwork. My Monday visit to the endocrine surgeon was nothing more than him examining my jaw inside and out and remarking "Fantastic," "Beautiful," and "Perfect" over and over again. Reminds me of Tom Hanks in "Castaway" when, stranded alone on the island, all puffed up and proud he exclaims "I have made fire!" Well, I'm glad I could make Dr. Patel's day (all right, fine, he really DID do an amazing job) - see you in 3 months!

Bozo hair is starting - the new hair is straight, the old is curly resulting in a nice big puff on either side of my ears. Soon, I'll be able to work the "Princess Leia cinnamon buns" look as well. Still not much gray though - God's way of saying "See? I DON'T give my people more than they can handle!"

I'm hoping these Christmas gifts will magically wrap themselves. As many times as I tell myself over the last 30 years or so that I WILL wrap gifts as I buy them so that I don't have to do it all at one back-breaking session, here I am once again looking at hauling out the scissors, tape, paper and ribbons after this weekend is over for a marathon wrapfest. Why, you ask, can't I do it this weekend? Because I will be bringing my favorite daughter and stepson home from their respective colleges, readying the tree for trimming, participating in our church's Christmas pageant, enjoying our family's tree-trimming party (yes, there WILL be more White Russians consumed), bringing Chris to the airport, and then, finally, relaxing Sunday night. So...Monday at the earliest. But...on the upside...Thursday at the latest!

Prayers for friends (some ill, some surgically repaired) - Danny B., Peter, Mike, Eddie - and a fervent wish that Mom and Julie and Aunt Pat and Granny could be here with us this Christmas.

Blessings and Love to All.

Deck The Halls

It has been difficult, to say the least, to keep up with my blog updates. Part of it is because life (rather than treatments and their side effects) keeps interfering (darn that life thing!) - kids going off to college, preparing for the holidays, work projects, church commitments, social activities, yoga classes, minor surgeries (kidding - just the one), "House" and "FlashForward" and "Sons of Anarchy." And while cancer is no less a part of life even without the daily or weekly treatments - I have monthly visits to receive estrogen-blocker injections; follow up visits every 3 months; surveillance studies on a regular basis (most recent: my yearly mammogram) - it's really the other stuff that "gets in the way" of regular reporting on that status of my health.

This frustrates me to a certain degree. Every day brings some random thought, some humorous incident, some real or imagined fear (Today's? I'll catch swine flu and it will kill me because of "underlying medical conditions"), some overwhelming realization, some joyful activity, some sorrowful news, some unidentifiable feeling, some angry outburst. Something that reminds me that cancer is affecting me physically, emotionally, spiritually or otherwise. Sharing what's "outside" is easy to put into words - "Doctor's visit today;" "Good test results;" "Lots of pain last night;" "Tiger did what?!" (well, I guess that's all over the news anyhow without me sharing it). But sharing what's inside? Not so easy and therefore...it is longer and longer between posts.

So...I'm going to try shorter posts that address the random thoughts and concerns of this "post-treatment survivor" phase while still making sure the "health updates" (which kind of started this whole mess many years ago) continue.

Saturday I began the process of decorating the house for Christmas, opening box after box of holiday goodies, trinkets, candles and knickknacks so that I could prepare for the second most celebrated birthday on Earth (mine being the first of course!). As I opened items that my mother had gifted me over the years (Lenox holiday salt and pepper shakers; Santa hat chair covers; an ornament-adorned platter with our family names painted on), I remember how charmed I was each time I opened one of her gifts, how delighted I was by her taste, how much I loved her thoughtfulness. I was at once grateful that I had these memories and at the same time sad that she would never again surprise me with a decorative Christmas token (she always seemed to be able to find something unique and beautiful). And I cried when I was forced to confront the reality that I may never get to pass on the ritual of buying just the right Christmas treasure for my daughter when she has her own home. Of course - it is not about the "things" - it is about the joy of sharing something special between mother and daughter. My heart, it just grieves when I think about the fact that that might be lost to Taryn and to me.

Blessings and Love to All.