Sheesh, and here we go again

~ Please forgive me for yet another post of such medical matter, but to be honest my brain has been wearing a fuzzy wool sweater for the last week AND the following is the news that is news today. Scrim, scroll or skimp if you like (you won't hurt my feelings, promise they're a bit distracted right now anyways, chasing little flickers of light across the mantle and trying to decide on the next mug of tea), but I promise to return sooner rather than later with stories of my REAL life and not of this whole C business. But for now, honesty first. ~

Well I know this is rather late in the game, but decisions seems to happen either weeks and weeks down the line OR in a matter of mere moments.

The results from the surgery last were partially great and partially, well, partially resulting in the decision to go back in for Le Surgery Número Dos, which happens to be in a matter of hours. Actually I'm throwing back broth and glasses of water like it's going out of style before my "total fasting" hour kicks in (On a deserted island I'd be the first to go if there was no water. Drink like a camel. That's me.). The super short story is the doctors want to remove a bit more to be certain that the cancerous cells were contained and test a few more lymph nodes, and I'd rather know for sure than be told "We mostly got it all." As I'm sure you would agree.

At first when I received the call from the surgeon I'm was so terribly disappointed. The surgery was so smooth, the recovery so manageable, and I felt so bouyed up by love and support that I expected with full certainty the results to be perfect.

I considered being angry, held that small nugget of rage in the palm of my hand, but after examining it's pocked and burned surface, I decided it wasn't what I wanted and I let it fall to the floor with a sharp plink. Not that I haven't already held it tightly in my fist, shaking it in the air, screaming into the atmosphere, and not that I may pick it back up and throw it at the nearest pane of glass, but not now. Not right here.

It was a first. This strange sense of calm and composure in the face of something that would generally pull the rug out from beneath and leave me sprawled on the floor for hours. But I think the answer I've found this week has been this:

1. There is so much that is positive.

2. All the love that has been given freely to me, all the belief, all the care, all the support that has wrapped me in a cloak softer than cashmere and stronger than wool does not always change the physical results within the body. However, it lifts me up above the swamps of despair and holds my arm steady until I find my footing once again.

3. Oftentimes, chocolate cookies really help.

- The Nitty Gritty Details -

Surgery Number 2

Thursday June 24th at 10 am PST

I've already placed my order (thank you BC) for a Mango-Papaya smoothie on the road home from the hospital. See you all on the other side of a sweet dream and some ice chips.

A Concise List of Healing

Burying one's nose in a fresh bunch of lavender, breathing deep. Repeat.

::

Enjoying the first fruits of a garden: the first strawberry (still a touch too tart, but sun-warmed and worth it all the same), the first radishes slipped from the soil and barely dusted before being crunched into, the first bowl of sugar snap peas, each plumper than the last.

::

Holding, arranging, examining treasures of driftwood shared from the beach excursions of others.

::

Short jaunts out to breakfast (ohhh the vegan potatoes at Big Blue Cafe! and OH! I still have some leftovers...) and the farmer's market before falling back into bed.

::

Sitting on the back steps in the late afternoon sun talking with one's soul sister.

::

Logging more hours in bed in one week than in an average month.

::

Fresh deliveries of tulips, iris, and moss-filled bark slabs.

::

Countless cups of tea, whole pints of blueberries, and the kind of fussing only one's parents can deliver.

::

Being snuggled on by furry piles of kitty.

::

Resting easy on the wings and winds of love and prayers from friends near and far.

From the cushy depths of my sofa,

and with all my adoration,

- Umber

Two Quick Things

1. A sneak peak... with more to come later.

2. When I say quick, I mean quick. I found out late this morning that I was going in for surgery tomorrow (that's Wednesday June 16th) at 11:00 am PST to kiss this tumor that's been hanging out in Lady Lefty goodbye. EGADS that's good news! My stomach has been twirling like a marching band for the last five hours but deep down, I feel confident in my strength, positive about my outcome, and ready to move forward with this phase of my life. So please please, give a thought to the ladies and I tomorrow as we wheel in wearing thick socks and a tasteless flasher-hospital gown!

Somedays

Somedays:

... I walk into the studio and the light dances up the walls and glazes softly over my canvas.

... I mix paint with such a fervor the whole room sings with the slap of my knives on a glass palette.

... I can't be bothered to find new music after an album ends, and work to the sound of brushes sliding over canvas and the rhythm of my own breathing.

... I wonder how I could possibly be hungry after I had just eaten lunch (and then realize it's after 11:30 pm).

I've started a new series. All at once it's familiar and foreign and fresh and bold and subtle. It's the combination of small slices of self-evaluation and the meshing of five separate ideas. It's full of messages, reminders to myself, spelled out for the world more clearly than I've ever worked.

I poured myself into eight square inches yesterday and created something that's looking back at me now.

I can't wait to show you.

Does anyone else out there consider their relationship with their cat (or dog!) to be slightly codependent? Does tree climbing together hint at that?

Anyone?

Anyone at all?