Posts

Maslow’s lower-archy

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I met a woman a few years ago who had suffered a severe concussion that resulted in brain injury. About six months after her injury, she updated friends on her condition. Her window of cognitive capacity had increased to four hours; after that, she said, she was physically and mentally wiped out. A previously busy and involved working mother, she now rested most of the time, and had to make constant tradeoffs. For example, if she balanced her checkbook or called a friend, would she be able to manage the next part of her day?   “My doctor describes my cognitive capacity like a gas tank,” she wrote. “Mine is smaller than it used to be, or it burns up more gas to do the same tasks I used to be able to do several of.” I was almost 18 months out from John’s death when I received her update, and I recognized myself in her description. I was fighting to maintain my involvement in the world around me, but felt increasingly unable to give my children what they needed, unable

Radiation, and the illusion of control

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I’m overdue for posting! Many thoughts, but I’ll start with an update. For the past few weeks I enjoyed a bit of a holiday from being a cancer patient. Chemo toxins purged, arm and shoulder recovered from surgery, eyelashes and eyebrows flourishing. I even got a falsie (aka breast prosthesis), so I am feeling downright human again. The feeling might be short-lived, as I started radiation today and already feel like I have a mild sunburn in the irradiated area. I’m slathering it with something called Manuka cream and plan to procure more potions; apparently the impact is cumulative and the discomfort and fatigue tend to worsen through the six-week course of treatment.   I’m getting used to my scar and zone of no-sensation, and so is Alder. I don’t know if I’m creating (yet more) fodder for future therapy sessions, but I don’t always bother to kick him out when I’m getting dressed. I was careful about the surgery area for a while because I thought it might be a jarring vis

Attitude and gratitude

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I'm thrilled my surgeon was able to cut me open and remove my cancer, but thanks be to God for my physical therapist for repairing the damage. Thanks to her, my arm motion is greatly improved, and with it my outlook on life. I had my radiation simulation, which is when they do a CT scan to determine exactly how they’ll line up your body for radiation, and tattoo little dots on your chest to use as guidelines for each session. The plan is for me to start in two weeks (they’re busy), and to have 33 treatments, the last five of which are a “boost” to the scar area, which is apparently especially vulnerable. The point of radiation, and of all of it, is to try to eradicate any cancer cells that may be lurking in my body. Cancer cells are tenacious, and even when you poison them with chemotherapy, cut them out with surgery, nuke them with radiation, there is still a decent chance they’ll sneak back to life at some unknown future time. Hence the fourth prong of the attack: I’