I was in the hospital a few weeks ago for uncontrollable pain and vomiting.  While there, I also developed sudden and profuse vaginal bleeding, which I discovered in the middle of the night and which freaked me the fuck out.  It turned out the blood thinners they automatically give patients to prevent potential clots that can result from lying around all day long had aggravated the mets in that part of my body and they had begun to bleed.  I was there for four days since they put me on a pain pump and then had to transition me off in lieu of the Fentanyl patch and since we had to wait for the bleeding to gradually subside.  The hospital is a desperately lonely place when you know you are dying.  Unlike my previous hospitalizations, this one was…empty, futile, pointless; it was devoid of all joy or hope or life-affirming possibility.  I had birthed no babies.  There had been no surgery to successfully remove cancerous organs and tumors.  There wasn’t even a promising clinical trial that necessitated the forced observation, confinement and attachment to machines.  No.  I was there simply because my body was deteriorating, beginning the process of dying, and I couldn’t handle the physical turmoil that was causing without medical intervention. More

Thank You

When I started writing this blog exactly four years ago, I never knew what it would become.  On August 19, 2013, I began writing and writing and writing, to keep my family and friends apprised of medical updates, to maintain a record for my children and, most of all, to create an outlet for myself.  Sure, it would be nice if people beyond my family and friends read my blog, but that was far less important to me than the exercise of self-expression such that I could vent all the complex emotions that come with having cancer, so that my mind and heart wouldn’t explode.  As a record for my children through which they would really know me and as a vehicle of self-expression, I vowed to be truthful and brutally honest, knowing that such honesty would be too dark, heavy, frightening and offensive to many and that the blog itself would be disdained by many as blatant narcissism and self-indulgence.  But I didn’t care.  This was my space I was carving out for myself.  Read or don’t read.  It didn’t matter to me. More