Saturday September 19
Jill sent me an alarming report of her walk to Anderson Field, which is a short distance from her home. At this time of year, migrating birds are due in Albuquerque as they fly south, but today there were none. She included an article from the BBC that described millions of bird deaths in New Mexico, which could be tied to the California wildfires or the recent cold weather.
Emailed Carrie and offered to cover the CCDC meeting on Thursday, since I'm feeling pretty good. Did more work for Recovery Kitchen.
Sunday September 20
Watched more of the Pema workshop. Tim Olmsted ran this morning's session. . I’m not drawn to his affect, which is a bit fruity and when puts on Pema's humor, he flops. However, when I stick to his video, eventually he becomes engaging and delivers a profound meditation practice.
Jill emailed me a video she just did of lots of birds hanging around in Anderson field. She said she was so happy she was weeping.
We went to Chatham to pick up Biden signs but none were left. We had lunch at the deli owned by Svi, Harris' nephew and father of our ex-neighbor Gavriel. We called Harris on our way home and he sounded exhausted. All the moving is supposed to done by Tuesday.
Alix Cohen sent me another book today. I haven’t opened the package because I dread what’s in there. She is so kind but the novels tend to be badly written, simpering with obvious romance, and, often, frosted with contrived magical realism. Typically there's a dead kid or animal and, in one, a dead god (I actually liked that one). I now skim the books for the death of innocents. Yes, as I suspected, the lovable elephant that had saved the life of the protagonists does indeed die tragically and the mysterious attractive traveling salesman who sells dreams is not in fact the murderer of the child found drowned in the lake just as he comes to town. Then I write Alix thanking her for the interesting novel, which encourages her to send more.
Talked to Jim Dolan and asked him if he knew why Pete Volkmann went on administration leave from his job as Chatham Police Chief and also resigned as Police Commissioner in Hudson. Pete has run a great program called Chatham Cares, which uses the police to get people with addiction into treatment instead of jail. This and similar programs that replace arrests with treatment are proving to be successful and, in fact, Peter was a consultant to help the Schenectady police set one up. I like him personally because he did a video with Gene supporting his DA race last year. His program is not popular with the rank and file cops around here, and Jim believes that Czajka, our current DA who best Gene, is behind this. All anyone knows is that there were "irregularities."
My cousin Gretchen called again, more befuddled than she was the other day. You become so aware of the courage in people whose minds are disappearing and are straining to retain the Normal, clinging to words they can remember that replicate social discourse, using a cheerful affect like a cross to ward of demons It makes you weep.
In the afternoon I watched Staged with Michael Sheen and David Tennant, who are asked to rehearse via Zoom during the pandemic for a production of Six Characters in Search of an Author. They use their real names and play on their actual friendship. Clever and funny. I always enjoy stories that make fun of actors, but I saw this by myself, knowing it would be a major snooze for MIchael. While watching it Gretchen called again three times but I didn’t pick up. She left sad rambling messages.
Michael grilled chicken breast and I made farro with kale and parm.
We watched together Fauda, an Israeli action thriller, and the Umbrella Academy.
Monday September 21
Went through another Pema session in the morning. Her teachings are so helpful. I wish I had someone like her in my life right now.
Jeremy called and said he was sending me a present. I hope it’s a Portland pickle hat!!
Took a walk to the mailbox then down to the pond, where I saw a small heron in the spot where the big gray heron has been hanging out. Its nest?
While on the walk, I focused on my fear and lack of confidence in dealing with the up coming chemo. Obsessing stopped when Michael joined me and we went back to the house.
Went into town for the prescriptions treating upcoming side effects and then to Relish to pick up lunch. Dana’s mother Joan came in with a handsome tall man with light brown skin, whom she introduced as her fiancé from Georgia. He remained silent and slightly stunned as she chattered about their meet up on line and his move here. He's only been in New York for two days and is meeting Dana for the first time. He looked as if any minute he might spin around and run as fast he could back south.
Back home I sliced, roasted and froze eggplant and roasted some tomatoes, worn out by the long summer but still edible. Had hamburger and sweet corn for dinner.
We watched Fauda and the last episodes of Umbrella Academy. In spite of rave global reviews, I found Fauda annoying, particularly the scenes with one of the leads, a young actor, whose soft pouty face is the current idea of handsomeness and whose scenes resonate with Sean Penn's explosive scenery chewing, Plot is also violently predictable. Don't think I want to see anymore or it.
Tuesday September 22
First chemo infusion today. All my great nurses at St. Peters are supportive and after two and a half years are almost friends. They pumped me full of Benadryl first to prevent an allergic reaction to the Taxol, and I passed out for two and a half hours in my $40000 chair. Lovely sleep and I’m sure I snored like a sailor (confirmed by a cube neighbor, a small southeast Asian man about my age, who responded when I asked him. “Sure, but that’s all right.”) The infusion takes a total of five hours and, because of covid, no visitors. Michael spent part of time getting our BMW fixed at the Albany dealer, but he still had to wait an hour in the parking lot.
Wednesday September 23
Got up early and went to supermarket. I had been concerned that the chemo would be hitting me this morning, but I actually felt pretty lively and, in fact, my joint pain was much reduced. My routine for going to the store these days is to arrive around eight on Tuesday or Wednesday--after the covid senior hour of six to seven and before the youngsters get there. This is working well. Very few people are in the store. Stocked up on 10% yogurt for future ice cream. Came home and realized that the chuck roast needed to be in the slow cooker for dinner, so I seared it and frantically chopped carrots, celery and potatoes. Got everything into the cooker within a half hour. I then scrambled some eggs for lunch.
In the afternoon watched the final session with Pema. Wish it could go on every day. Although their spiritual paths are very different, the back-stories of both Dorothy Day and Pema offer me a road map. Each history involves early hedonism, eventual remorse with a subsequent search for a spiritual solution. Of course, in their cases, led to a committed religious life, which didn't of course in mine. I feel more comfortable with Pema’s teachings but Dorothy’s direct work helping uncomfortable humans is more inspiring. Buddhism is intellectually and spiritually accessible, but Catholicism, with its harsh mysteries, would provide a more solid and sustaining faith if I could find it. When the brain gets too tired of tripping over all the religious rules, and mantras and yattering, I go back to the faithless Krishnamurti, with his simple practice and death as ordinary, just as my life has been ordinary.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the documentary My Octopus Teacher. Woke up in the middle of the night and realized that I had the exact emotional response to Raymond Briggs' Snowman. In both The Other reaches out to the human and establishes a transcendent nonverbal connection. In both the Other reveals and demonstrates their commonality, transforming the human's idea of identify. And in both was the inevitability of death and grief, eliciting simultaneous sorrow and joy, those emotional twins that underlie the profound mysteries of faith.
Warm evening and we sat out and read while Stevie romped in the field. I’m not drinking wine for a while. Gives me heartburn.
At six my Neulasta injector, which the nurses pasted to my arm yesterday, triggered the mediation, feeding my white blood cells. Was able to remove it an hour later. Unlike horrid 5-FU chemo box I had to sleep with for a month during the initial treatments, Michael could remove the injector after an hour.
At seven we ate the pot roast, while I listened on mute to the CCDC Officer's meeting, which was endless with puffy monologues and altercations over nothing.
Watched Pamela Odolon' Better Things, which is about raising three daughters as a single mother. Semi autobiographical and was co-written with Louis CK. Funny and moving. Such a loss of Louis' intelligence and compassion to the #metoo movement. On the other hand, jerking off while two horrified young women watched? Stupid.
Thursday September 24
Anniversary of Cindy’s death, and a similar beautiful day. My other girl guide.
I had an appointment with my primary care doctor, but today I'm clobbered with dizziness and fatigue, so I cancelled. My brain is totally fuzzy with chemo and Neulasta and I’m also constipated. More coffee.
Talked to Lee, she and Tom who are lively as crickets, dealing with the pandemic hearty hiking, zoom concerts, and cooking dinner for Wendy, Dan, and John. Lively as crickets. Worked on recovery kitchen ads and mailings.
Jim Dolan showed up bringing me a Yankees cap, which is just in time because the hair is starting to come out. I made an appointment to shave it off tomorrow.
I watched an episode of PJ Wodehouse’s Blandings. Funny but it went beyond lunch, and I fell apart in the afternoon, not only physically but also emotionally. I felt weak, faint, and easily aggravated. I wanted to kick Stevie who was wailing to go outside. I threw together tuna fish sandwiches, and was clobbered and depressed for the rest of the day. Now I understand what they mean by fatigue. This isn't just being tired. Moving at all, even to reach for a piece of fruit, is like pushing a rock up a hill. I went out for a bit just to make myself walk but when I can’t back all I could do was sit. Reheated beef stew for dinner, which was an enormous effort and I had little interest in eating it.
Michael zoomed the full CCDC meeting. Carrie had kindly agreed to do the minutes for it. Afterward we watched more Pamela Adlon. Collapsed in bed incredibly depressed and questioning whether I'd be able to continue with chemo if it was going to be like today.
Friday September 25
Meditated during the night, which helped restore my mind and I didn’t feel like an alien had taken me over. I just have to deal with the moments inch by inch, and work on tanglen (via Pema), inhaling the pain and negativity and breathing out clarity and peach. Though how do I get rid of the constipation?
I resigned my job as CCDC secretary this morning. Maybe I'm just using chemo as an excuse.
Had a cheer call with Willie, who has a date this weekend with a Catholic southeast Asian from Botswana.
Ken shaved my head and I felt relieved. My hair had become long and shaggy anyway, and I really don’t mind being bald. It feels clean.
At home I ate half a croissant tomato and mozzarella sandwich from Cascades. I worked a bit on the Recovery Kitchen list afterward and then naptime. I took Zofran to prevent nausea when I woke up, also Metamucil but nothing happening in that area. Felt shaky in the afternoon. I gnawed a bit on the rest of sandwich but it was gummy and nasty. The day was sunny and warm, so I sat on the deck with ginger tea, which was pleasant. The hard thing about the chemo regimen is the sudden change from feeling fine to total collapse. Four days ago I was gardening and cooking, and walking to the pond. Now I can hardly lift a plate or walk from room to room. Still, I'm not as gloomy as I was yesterday.
My wonderful infusion nurse Melissa just called and was reassuring about the symptoms, which she said usually get better over the interval between infusions.
Ordered pizza from Oak. I ate two pieces. ,
Geoff and Kim were due to be at the house after dropping Julian off at school in Albany, but I couldn't wait up and went to bed at eight thirty. I woke at eleven, panicking because they hadn't arrived. I texted them and Kim responded that they had a late start and would get at our place around eleven thirty. I should have know because they have never not gotten a late start.
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