I’ve delayed updates, hoping to provide a definitive picture of my progress. People keep asking how I’m doing, and I keep answering, but I’m not sure I believe what I’m saying at any given time. The most humbling part of this journey is the embarrassment of realizing I barely know or trust this meat suit I’ve been walking around in for 53 years.

I finished radiation, and it wasn’t too bad; 3 out of 10 would not recommend as a spa treatment, but well worth the investment in frying that little cancer demon. I’m okay, and the staff at Sutter in Auburn was amazing. I never really got satisfaction with what happened at the other hospital, mostly because I don’t know what satisfaction looks like in this instance. Maybe I’ll figure it out one day, but I doubt it. I’m only willing to put energy into making something better, and I don’t think I have that power with how the American healthcare system is set up.

Moving forward, I’ve started the medications that I’ll be on for the next 2-5 or maybe 10 years. I’ll also have one more reconstruction surgery in about six months. I am/was stage 3, so I’ll never really be free of worry, and the medications are a real ass-kicker. I don’t want people to worry, but I want them to care. I don’t want to think about it all the time, but I can’t ever forget. The meds are no joke and could have significant side effects until I figure out how to manage them. I’ll get there, but I’m still wobbly.

Crooked Ears Hear Everything
Mixed Media on Wood Panel
8 x 8

On my walk the other day, I ran into a friend who said, “I don’t know what to say.” Dude, me either! I barely know what day it is—the various decorations in medical reception areas are the only clues since February. There was a tornado of paper hearts, shamrocks, Easter eggs, and American flags in a haze of blood draws, scans, surgical prep, and painkillers. I’ve been tumbled and deposited in a new normal I barely recognize. Finding myself here on Pumpkin Spice Eve is disconcerting, to say the least. Where did the time go, where did my life go, and what am I supposed to do with all these expensive bras I can’t wear anymore but I’m not quite ready to get rid of? Who am I if I can’t complain about underwire anymore?

These Wings Are Heavy
Mixed Media on Canvas
8" x 10"

I keep putting one foot in front of the other, taking my daily walk, and falling asleep on the sofa. I dreamt a dear friend of mine was so furious with me that she never wanted to speak to me again and cursed my lack of gratitude. I will accept it not as a judgment but as a reminder that there is no way I’ll ever be able to express how grateful I am for the kindness, care, and generosity expressed in word, deed, financial support, memes, and emojis lifting me up these past few months. Those close to me and people I barely know have supported me in ways I didn’t even have the imagination to ask for. The women I have met online while on Planet Cancer have been anchors to sanity 24/7. Every bit of kindness or good wishes sent my way is like a miracle that punctures the haze of disease, snapping the beauty of life into sharp, startling focus.

It’s a trip. I’m grateful you’re here. Thank you again.

Saint Chicken
Mixed Media on Wood
5" x 5"

I’m finding time to paint. It feels good to be busy at home. Everything shared here and 6-7 other new works will be available online only in The Quirk Show, where collectors bid on Facebook. If you are interested in being tagged when the show goes live, join The Auctions with Stephanie Gago's community and learn more, or reach out on my page, and I’ll add your name to the list.

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