Snow might visit us next week. I wanted to share our own splash of fall color, which we look forward to each year. We so enjoy our pistachio tree, which has taken years to reach this fullness. It stands out beautifully against the scrubby olive and locust trees. Don’t get me wrong. I treasure every inch of our two acres—scrubby brush and all—with our view of Mt. Rose, even before the snow caps its majestic peaks.
October is extra special. I have one treatment left to go and then maybe I can grow back my hair.
It’s getting harder to see all the events on this planet that make life overwhelming at best and genuinely depressing at worst. We’ve been re-watching Reacher. Lee Child’s stories effectively depict (in their dramatic and violent way) the human condition and the terrible things people who abandon their humanity can do to others.
They give us an exciting, larger-than-life hero who courageously seeks justice, often inspiring those he meets along the way to stand up to oppressors. Yet, they remind us that it’s okay not to fix every problem, but to do what we can for the ones close to home.
My sister and I both got diagnosed with cancer this year. We started chemo a day apart, and we lost our hair at the same rate. We experience bad days and good days in different ways, and we share our journeys weekly. I mention this because, while we share a lot, we are two very different people, and so are our choices about dealing with the world as we fight our personal battle.
It’s interesting how, when you’re caught up in survival, you begin to contemplate the meaning of life and your place in it, even as your attention narrows to your own physical struggle. I guess it’s natural for some to focus on what they can control and let the things beyond their control blur into the background.
For me, I can disappear into my writing, rewrite the world in speculative fiction. I can listen to my Cake radio station on Pandora (my adored hometown band) while I exercise, or watch the rare good entertainment like Reacher with my hubby while I knit. I’m very grateful for that.
Others do the opposite. Their personal struggle becomes less significant as they take a stand against the unsolvable and march with other brave people.
Despite my efforts at mindfulness and inner peace, events like the terrible mass shooting at a casino a couple of days ago bring chaos crashing back, and I grieve for the world, feeling helpless alongside my neighbors.
That’s when I look up. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Northern Nevada skies are always inspiring and soothing to the soul, reminding me how tiny and insignificant events on this planet are in the grand scheme of things. Gazing up, away from the chaos on the ground, lets me just be.
No worries as the sinking sun paints the sky until the stars come out. The answers are up there, and someday I’ll understand.
You may have noticed that I’ve fallen behind on my blogging over the last several months, although I’ve managed to keep up with my Guest Spotlights, which I’m very happy about. I’ve lined up more amazing authors through October, so stay tuned.
First up, on Sunday, June 22, Rayne Hall will be chatting with us from Bulgaria. After that, all my guests will come from my very own jurisdiction in Northern Nevada. You might wonder why that is. Well, a writer’s journey can be quite random when it comes to building a community. Initially, because I started writing at the outset of the pandemic, I engaged in outreach through social media groups, which netted me a handful of amazing writing friends from around the globe. However, this year, I attended a local retreat and met many fantastic local writers. I will share more about that incredible event in a separate blog and in my newsletter.
As for the reason I’ve been less active on WordPress, I’d like to share a bit about my health journey since early March when I discovered a lump. To keep it brief, I underwent a partial mastectomy to remove an ER-positive invasive ductal carcinoma, grade 3, stage IIB. The cancer had spread to my two sentinel lymph nodes, which were also removed.
Surgery went very well, thanks to my excellent surgeon. However, because my genomic test (Oncotype) came back with a high recurrence score, my oncologist is having me undergo a dense dose of the big three, AC-T. The A is for the anthracycline drug Doxorubicin, also referred to for decades as Red Devil. It’s red, and it’s a demon on the old organs. The C is for Cyclophosphamide. These two drugs will be administered in four infusions over a period of eight weeks. The T is for Taxol and will be my second 8-week course. At the end of the year, I will undergo four weeks of radiation followed by five years of immunological drugs.
Chemotherapy is something I never thought I would face, but cancer is a nasty, sneaky beast. To illustrate my point, my little sister was diagnosed with advanced ovarian cancer two weeks ago. She starts chemo the day after I do. Tell me, what universe has two close sisters diagnosed with cancer within months of each other? She has an even tougher battle ahead, and we will be fighting together.
Some of you may, unfortunately, be familiar with the disease in its various forms and stages, as well as these treatments. I would greatly appreciate hearing your stories. Feel free to shout out your medical team and treatment centers; I have been very impressed with mine. So here’s three cheers for Renown Breast Cancer Treatment Center, Oncology, and Radiation! I would also like to thank my Oncology Wellness Doctor, Madeline Hardacre. Lifestyle medicine should be an integral part of every cancer center.
During my recent chemotherapy education at Renown Oncology, I was given this wonderful swag bag assembled by Pinocchio’s Moms on the Run. Check out all they do. I remembered today how I participated in a run years ago. I still wear my pink ribbon baseball cap on my walks.
My precarious alliance with the Red Devil starts next week. I plan to use the time to journal, knit, and read. I’ll be featuring some of those books from the chemo chair. You can follow my review posts on Instagram.
Live each day to the full and create something every day. Thank you for letting me share my journey. Darci
By D. L. Lewellyn 