I’m Finally Vaccinated, Let’s Go Out Today!

You’re diagnosed with a terminal illness and you must ask yourself the following question: what would you do differently in your life or change about your life so If any week might be your last you’d be happy with it or at the very least okay with that week?

I asked my husband this very question. To which he reacted with a sense of injustice. “That’s not a fair question.”

I don’t agree. No, every day isn’t a great day…that much is true.

Here’s a snippet of an argument:

Unappreciative ass

Harsh realities too bad

I’m having a lot of trouble with this, hon, can’t we just talk?

You’re in no position to just talk. You’re not supporting us.

He needs to be on stronger depression medications just to simply be around me

I’m getting worse to be around

But I am great to be away from yet he wouldn’t be with me if I weren’t sick.

He can’t stand to be around me, lately.

And has no idea why I’m even with him.

But…We get along. Seriously.

Foundations

However, built upon the foundation of modern western culture insure to that. Due to no fault of our own all of us were born into a time of rampant materialism. Noting we buy delivers on its promise of satisfaction. There’s the cliché small print that spells out a guarantee of no satisfaction. What it does guarantee: you’ll never see any money back should anything go awry. A broken warranty means simply using the product breaks the rules.

I’m broken. He cannot return me to a store, although I suppose he could leave me. But what a mess. And I still take care it so much for him, he cries occasionally: what will I do without you! Meaning -my cooking, my housekeeping, my all embracing hugs, my laundry prowess.

A manufacturer’s guarantee is akin to cancer in some ways. By living in our bodies with the environment at a time of great threat to its mere existence, we are swimming in chemicals and stress and we’ve not evolved to handle it nor should we.Read this article from Commonweal regarding reduction of chemicals in our environment.

Susceptible to Infections

The point I’m trying to get across is that by merely living in a physical body we are very highly susceptible to illness and specifically cancer. The warranty on our physical body while living in the post industrial, sedentary, sugar infused world with melting ice caps and chemicals in our air, water, and food there’s no guarantee of any kind.

With that in mind, ask yourself what would you do differently if anything given your own personal special circumstances even if you’re not hiding “a cancer” if you were to be diagnosed with a terminal illness? By the way, I deplore that phrase – the article in front of cancer removes it from our body’s boundaries giving it a life of sorts.

But hey, don’t worry.
Be happy. The year now 2021 – and now we’ve come so far as to have lived through a pandemic that’s still the bane of many an MBC enduerer’s existence (not to leave out anyone who’s also got a terminal illness but we tend to swim with our own kind when we are diagnosed for the shorthand we develop for quick understanding like chemo brain, and well, I forget the rest but you get my point).

Caught in a trap…suspicious minds

Trapped at home, through no fault of our own, due to our battered immune systems we wait out our turns for a vaccine. A shot or two developed so quickly it makes one think about our diseases. What the hell is taking so long to develop drugs to keep us chronic and alive a la AIDS, rather than becoming terminally ill upon diagnosis. Kept further apart from humanity again because of an incurable, rather painful disease.

As March roars for its wintery last puffs of snow coming this week, I recover from my recent covid19 vaccine. In hindsight I hope my appreciation for the life that cancer helped me find enough foresight to live in this moment in a way that’s just right for me. And I got the vaccine knowing it could have demanding physical repercussions.

I dodged that bullet. I’m fact having a break from my daily Verzenio – and my red blood cells began repopulating my bloodstream giving me back some of my energy. But I can’t overdo it. My tummy began filling up with ascites (see a few posts in this blog by searching up Ascites in the search tool right here.)

Stuck in the middle with you

So this will suck again. My pants are tight, I’m feeling uncomfortable and my feet are swelling. If you have ever been blown up like a waterbed, the draining process is exactly like it. But of course I’ll keep you posted – PET Scan next week – oh joy, head to toe and the anxiety It will bring over potential brain Mets.

Isn’t that what we all worry about when we get a head to toe scan? Those horrible metastases that could possibly go to our brains? The ones that we fear the most? Although medical science has come quite far and the cyber knife as well as other ablative mechanisms take care of them quite well. In fact better than mets that travel to most of the other organs are bodies. So nothing to worry about.

Right?

Comprehensive List of Cancer and coronavirus resources | UICC

Cancer and coronavirus resources | UICC
— Read on www.uicc.org/resources/access-all-resources/cancer-and-coronavirus-resources

How to Move with Metastatic Cancer (hint: HELP!)

How do you handle huge life events with metastatic cancer? As best as you can and with slow determination. Asking for assistance from your friends and from your family sometimes doesn’t pan out. I have a wonderful friend I made years ago at a garage sale. She was a couple of dollars short and I’d covered her so she could enjoy a few vintage ceramics and beads.

Now, six years later Des is my friend and Des is my housekeeper. Through the course of time we’d found commonality in our eclectic eye for beads and for jewelry making. We drudged through the stress of packing, readying this memory box of 1600 square feet to move its contents elsewhere. We actually live in a pretty nice townhouse. If you’d like to check out my amateur “staging” here’s the link to the sales materials including a 3-D rendering and a video. http://www.1481carrington.com/

Removing the traces of 11 years of memories as eclectic and varied as the beads I collect brings about a sort of melancholy to my heart. Des came over to help me pack as we sell our townhouse. She also refuses to take a dime because what once were services have shifted into the kindness of a friendship. She commented that I’d give the shirt off my back, which I literally have done several times in my life. She said she couldn’t possibly take money from me when clearly I was the one who needed help right now.

My husband made sure she got paid for it, since she cannot afford the time and I cannot afford the intense guilt. I’ve never needed so much physical assistance before. I guess I’ll chalk it up to age and leave the cancer for another time. But I can’t, because it’s for the cancer we are moving and due to the cancer that I need help.

All the kindness I have shown her was reflected back at me in ways I never imagined. When we give it should never hold the expectation that we may receive something in return. But as my philosophy about karma is not to do bad in the world as it keeps you looking over your shoulder at whose anger is behind you. Then you cannot see the good that’s right in front of you and you either miss these opportunities or trip over them and fall on your face.

A change of residence is very high on the stress scale https://www.stress.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/stress-inventory-1.pd

My stress adds up to just under having a 50% chance over the next two years of having a catastrophic health event. I think I’m already there so I’ve beaten the stress scale by four and a half years. But looking back I had a very low level of stress in my life in the years leading up to my diagnosis, so go figure. Perhaps the subconscious predicts stressors before they arrive to eat us alive. I was planning a change of career and the very day – March 15, 2015 – was the same day I was diagnosed in the hospital and the day I was supposed to start a new job.

You Oughta Be in Pictures!

The house really shows well – I’ll have it even more staged for our open house on Sunday. There is so much work to do after living a full life for 11 years in a home. And our home has been really good to us. I’m grateful to it for giving us positive memories, but it’s time to close this chapter in our lives and move onto the next chapter .

I know intrinsically that this house will be wonderful to whomever buys her next. It’s stable and so well cared for and we feel bittersweet selling her but we leave it with good love and positive energy. After searching for our new digs, I believe you can tell if people who lived in a house were happy and if it looks like a product of divorce or ugliness. Not so here!

The Zombie Apocalypse

In the state of California, if someone died in a house in the three years prior to selling it you must disclose that event to the buyers? I found it morbid and kind of strange. our culture’s obsession with first person shooter games, zombies, and horror films directly opposes the feelings of disgust when faced with real death or the dying. I’d think people would be desensitized to death rather than creeped out by it.

It’s a huge decision to invest into a house. Love, time, energy, money and holiday spirit, all paint it the colors of the personalities who reside inside. Our next home will likely be my last move, my last address, the last place my name will be printed on mail and arrive in my mailbox. Maybe the quote about dying twice – once when your physical body dies and the last time someone says your name aloud – should be corrected to dying three times if we include the last time your name is printed on junk mail. I bet junk mail lists last a lot longer than even the youngest people who might speak of me later given the tenacity of mass marketers.

Oh, and I’ll submit this: if the last time you posthumously receive a piece of junk mail addressed to you is the last whisper of your name what does that say about our culture when we cannot even control having our online avatars removed from Facebook and Twitter. If that’s all true, then we’re all going to live forever. A planet of the walking dead carrying sacks of marketing materials for the Red Cross and coupons for barbecue. The zombie apocalypse is upon us.