Friends and I went kayaking today. Beautiful. My first time on the water this summer.
Chatfield Reservoir
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Here is some recent artwork:
By the Pond
Crossroads
Remembering
Tags: art
Molly coming home with us at 8 weeks.
Barking softly but carrying a big stick.
After conquering the garden hose.
Doing fine after the gamma knife laser surgery on my brain. I even have some super-flattering photos to share.
Here I am with three ponytails (one’s in the back) just to make me look extra cute. Okay, it’s really so the surgeon can screw the frame into my head where the hair is parted without having to go through hair or shave any of it off. You can see the two front screws going into my forehead.
Here they have put a dome on my head. I don’t remember why, but I guess it was necessary at the time.
The goofy smiles are because you’re always supposed to smile for the camera, right? And I was on some meds….
This photo is after the procedure. They put me in a hospital bed and fed me…a big magenta flower? I don’t remember the flower. I probably ate it.
My neurosurgeon and a physicist monitored the whole procedure. The physicist checked in on me all the time, very comforting. They were very pleased and said they were confident it was a success. The MRI in July will give them more data about the results.
The nodule was in the balance area of my cerebellum, and I have had no balance problems since the procedure.
Today is my brother’s birthday. Happy birthday, Doug!
Tags: brain, cancer, colon, gamma knife, surgery
Apparently there is a colon cancer metastasis in my brain about 1cm in diameter, and it is growing. The news was hard to hear. I was sent to a neurosurgeon for a plan of action.
Sooo, tomorrow I go in for gamma knife brain surgery. No cutting, just lots of laser beams aimed into my head, killing whatever is at their point of intersection — in this case, the metastasis in my cerebellum.
I will be able to go home the same day. Brain surgery has come a long way.
On a happier note, we are adjusting to a new puppy in our household. Molly is a ten-week-old golden retriever. She joins Jesse the bichon and Romi the cat. The housetraining is a pain, but she has given us many laughs during the two weeks we have had her.
Molly and pals
Our cat likes dogs, so that adjustment has been smooth. Jesse the bichon was not too sure about Molly for a while but is playing with her now.
Also fun: Cliff and I just got back from visiting the elementary school where our daughter teaches art. They are having an all-school art show this evening, and we were very impressed with the kids’ artwork. Our son showed up too, so the family was all together.
On brain surgery eve, all is well in our household. And Romi the cat is at the keyboard, supervising my writing.
My oncologist is straight with me. He tells me the truth. I have made it clear that I want it that way.
I have stage IV colon cancer, and I have been in remission now for over a year.
So during my oncology appt today I asked him, “I know my cancer is a slow grower. It has stayed dormant before and then begun to grow after almost a year.” I already knew the answer to my question. “How likely is it that the cancer is staying dormant right now while I’m in remission, and will begin to grow again in the future?”
He said in his caring voice, “It’s very likely. But I have two colon cancer patients, stage IV, who are now years past their diagnosis. One is seven years out, no sign of disease.”
So once again I am faced with this prognosis: there is hope, but it’s not very likely. But it can happen.
So I can’t sleep.
It sounds to me like I am probably going to die from this cancer…but maybe–although it’s a stretch–maybe not.
Whom do I talk with about this? Cliff is worn out and needs sleep, the kids don’t want to talk about it and they aren’t my counselors anyway, I will wear out my friends if I talk about this stuff over and over. Everybody is too close. And I don’t have a counselor right now. So I am writing about it.
I paint too. Maybe all this sadness about dying a little too soon will find its way into an abstract painting one day. (Well, that will make it all worthwhile….)
It’s weird to think that in a year or two I could be not here with my family, but instead cremated and scattered.
Or I could be one of those oncology patients still walking around, and people are thinking, “What, she’s still here?”
It could happen.
I had a painting that I wasn’t happy with. I glazed it twice, hoping that would help pull it together. No luck.
Doomed painting
I actually did more to it since this photo was taken–added shadows to the little house and other areas, toned down the foreground substantially, glazed the painting, etc.
But anyway, last night I painted over the whole thing. It’s weird to work on a painting for months and then suddenly–with a few swipes of a big brush–have the whole thing gone.
But now there are all sorts of possibilities for that canvas.
Of course I’ve gessoed over quite a few paintings in the past year–so many, in fact, that I wondered if I would ever produce anything final. But there’s a time to be done with a piece and let it go.
Here is a painting I completed recently. So far, it is safe from the gesso brush.
Remembering
Tags: art
A few people have asked to see what I’m doing in the art studio (my daughter’s former room). So I’m going to start posting my artwork, for better or worse.
Here are three finished pieces.
Gathering of Women
Ravine
The Letter
I took up painting over a year ago, then stopped during the summer of 08. In June 08 I was diagnosed with stage IV cancer and underwent surgery. Chemo in the fall and winter. Then during chemo I picked up art again and began learning in earnest.
Since people have asked to see what I do, I’ll post my work here now and then. I don’t have a particular style yet, as you will see; I’m all over the map. I’m drawn to abstract art, but so far I haven’t done much of that. Anyway, I’m so enjoying the challenges that I encounter in art.
I am just learning…about creativity, about process, about art in general. I love looking at other artists’ work. I absorb so much, and I enjoy seeing how they used color (or didn’t use it) and how they decided to compose the painting.
During my sixth colonoscopy earlier this month, my surgeon removed a flat polyp. No cancer, though! He’s keeping a close watch, and I am still on an annual colonoscopy schedule.
Tags: art, cancer, colon, colonoscopy, painting