January 2-8. Chemo, Ann in Cincinnati, DC Riots

Saturday January 2

Icy rain last night coating the meadow with a beautiful bronze tone this morning. 

 

Called Carrie about Ann. Everyone is helpless. Liz reported that Ann is dealing with funeral arrangements in Cincinnati and doesn’t know when she’ll be home. Ann texted me that she’s in hell right now. 

 

Worked on Recovery Kitchen bylaws for our non-profit certification. Other than that lazy day. 

 

I keep dropping things, underestimating the mild numbness in my fingertips from the neuropathy. 

 

Played a new video game with Willie and then Ann called.  Eamon’s body was so decomposed that embalming was impossible, so she's having him cremated and will bring his ashes home-- she hopes by the end of the week. I believe this will be more comforting than burying him in Ohio.  She sounded strong but recognizes her inevitable emotional collapse when she gets back. "All I want is to be home, put a blanket on the floor and lie there with Edie [her cat]". Ann's friend Dan has been a rock, while Ted has been useless, which is of no surprise. Worse than useless, he reported to Ann a conversation with his sister Jennie, who quoted her high achieving adult kids after they heard of Eamon's death that he had gotten “weird” when they saw him last. They had last seen him last twenty years ago when they were all teenagers. So many things wrong with each one these conversations, not the least of them that they happened at all.

 

Made a lemon sauce for leftover chicken meatballs, which broke apart but tasted ok. 

 

Watched a Nathan and then West Wing liberal comfort.

 

Sunday January 3

Read A Gentleman in Moscow in the bathtub. Such a good one.

 

Did some diary editing. Jeanine here. Reported her latest efforts to win most accident-prone competition: slipped on the ice and banged her head on her bathroom door in the middle of the night. Ann asked me not to tell her about Eamon, which will stir up all sorts of frenzy. 

 

Jeremy called using Face Time and showed me electric Baby Yoda's tricks, which I had gotten him for his birthday. 

 

Had a nice long call with Jill, slight altercation over Covid vaccine, which she and Al won’t take because they distrust drug companies and why aren’t we using the “Cuban vaccine” I’ve never heard of and she got defensive and irate. But we drifted on to less contentious issues, so the sine waves smoothed out. I gave her an update on Ann and she reported on Livy and Harrison. Al has a medical card for marijuana, which is helping the severe pain that he has, probably from the bad bicycle crash years ago in Virginia. He can buy 8 oz. every three months, a huge amount. Jill, like me, has had unpleasant responses to pot, but she recommended lemonade sativa, which gives you a slight sense of euphoria and goes away in a short time. They are thinking of getting a grow light license. 

 

Snowing now. 

 

Made a sausage bean soup, which was ok but my appetite was low. Watched a Nathan and two West Wings. The second episode was pulled together the week after 911. The humanity of this show is so comforting. It lights up the shadows of the disappearing current administration. God, I hope it's disappearing. Trump just made an hour-long call to Georgia’s Secretary of State trying to bully him, fortunately unsuccessfully, into changing the election results with his loony claims of fraud. 

 

Monday January 4

Dreamed that Trump won the election after a recount. So many people must be having that nightmare this week. I'm really tired but it might just be anticipating the start of chemo tomorrow.

 

Outside the trees are beautifully littered with overnight snow.

 

Did a little Recovery Kitchen work, checking documents needed for incorporation, while listening to Willie teach and pray with his religious class students. 

 

Went to Albany for oncology appointment. On the way I talked to Liz who told us that Ted's sister Jenny is goading their family to perform an autopsy on Eamon, suspecting, for no reason, foul play. I can't imagine any other motive for this than Jenny's need to control the situation without actually making it better. When our brothers committed, Richard Wallace and my family had some reasons to think that they were murdered. Indeed, murder is preferable to suicide in survivors, because it relieves us of guilt. Ted might certainly feel that way, but it just seems like the delight in interference for Jenny.

 

Dr. Luyun went over my scan, which shows some recession and then talked about my neuropathy. He said he’d reduce the dosage and said if it got too bad I would have to stop the chemo. I asked about alternatives and he suggested that I might be able to go back on immunotherapy. This makes me hopeful but I also think it’s unlikely. I’ll ask Dr. Saltz in Thursday.

 

After I got home, I briefly poked my head into a Face Time conversation between John Bradley and Willie. John is still adorable after all these years. After a tough divorce he’s now engaged to a pretty blonde with two kids. He confessed to being a Trumpster until he had an epiphany during a trip to Northern Ireland when he stood at the wall that had separated the Protestants and Catholics and realized how false his cult-like devotion was. He said it disappeared all at once.   

 

Watched the first Pema’s session of a six week workshop but was very drowsy through it. 

 

Watched West Wing after dinner.

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Tuesday January 5

 

Liz drove me to St. Peter’s this morning and caught me up on the last news from Ann. She's going ahead with cremation although Ted’s siblings still claim that his death was suspicious, in spite of lack of motive or evidence. Also, the killer took the time to fill two huge bowls with food and water for the dog, which was then put in the kitchen with the door closed. 

 

Talked Ann while I was the chemo room during my Benadryl nap, so I was super drowsy.  She saw Ted, who was weeping continuously and kept telling Ann who strong she was. Ann is now high on adrenaline, which increases her energy and competence.  She has always sought out jobs that triggered it, and its certainly one consequence of this terrible event. But the crash lies in the east in her house when she gets home. So her friends here are trying to prepare for this, which mainly involves getting food to her, 

 

When I got home I followed the Georgia Senate race, while braising chicken in coconut sauce, which I put over soba noodles for dinner. Then watched West Wing. 

 

 

Wednesday January 6

 

Needed to get a lot of Recovery Work done today before the post-dexamethasone crash that will predictably occur tomorrow. Had an RK Zoom meeting at one, which focused on how to reach more people who need food.  The people from the Sanctuary Movement said they didn't need our meals anymore, that the people in the immigrant community whom they serve are getting jobs now.  This is hard to believe. I volunteered to reach out to food pantries in the county to see if they'll distribute leaflets to clients who might need our service.  We also discussed creating a board of directors once we got approval for being non-profit. 

 

After the meeting, I went online to check on CNN's coverage of congressional approval of the Electoral College vote. Instead, like all of the country, I was thrown into the mass of rioters who were invading the Capital building.  They wandered the halls, breaking stuff, grinning into their phones, no more aware of the seriousness of their actions than if they at a drunken weekend in a Fraternity house. They believe in Trump's lies concerning his landslide victory, and they are doing the righteous thing in coming to Washington and stopping the electoral process. One woman was sobbing with the passionate belief that the Democrats were destroying democracy. How do we recover from this poison? Can Biden’s nice guy persona offset the monster who is leading these gullible Americans into criminal and dangerous behavior? 

 

Thursday January 7

Chemo washout today. Slept till eleven’ and very shaky, after which I caught up on the follow-up to yesterday’s insanity in Washington.  

 

Am reading Amor Towles' A Gentleman in Moscow. He's one of those authors who invite two separate feelings: I wish I could write like that and whew I don’t have to write like that because he has already. I don't have the capability to observe and remember the details that are key for involving a reader. Jill can do that. 

 

I read in the kitchen waiting for Dr. Saltz’ telemedicine call, who was more than an hour late. When I finally talked to him, he seemed pleased with the scan's results. If things go south, however, if the chemo stops working or I can't function with the neuropathy, going back on immunotherapy is not an option. We then talked about yesterday rioting in Washington and our hopes for Biden. 

 

I'm stuffed like a chicken with chemo fatigue, feeling all starchy and thick. 

Talked to Carole Clarke through my fog who described her good results in identifying people who can help with outreach. 

 

Watched two Julia Child’s. Anticipating chemo week, I had ordered a bunch of frozen dinners and managed to down some pad Thai. 

 

 Willie has a promising Face Time date. We watched a Nathan and a west wing. 

 

 

Friday January 8

Still totally wiped from chemo but did bathtub exercises and will try to push myself a bit today. 

 

Napped in the afternoon after watching a little Pema and doing some Julia binging.  Checked on Trump status.  

 

Heard from LIz.  Ann has Eamon’s remains but she can't get on a plane before she has results of a Covid test, which will take a few days.

 

Couldn’t eat much. Little soup for lunch and no dinner.  Watched a Nathan and a couple West Wing. 

 

 

December 26, 2020-January 1, 2021. Eamon's Death and Good-by to a Shitty Year

 Saturday December 26

Talked to Jeremy. His neighbors, who come from Albuquerque and periodically give him NM food, brought over tamales and posole yesterday. I had suggested he give them a bottle of wine and he bought them nice New Mexico Gruet champagne but they told him they didn’t drink. I suggested he give it to his mother and Hank, but he said he only sees them when they shop at his super market. Ugh.

 

Had a nice long talk with Ann this morning much of it going over old ground about her parents past, which is always interesting.

 

Steeled myself for taking the compost out to the pile.  Temperature is in the thirties, but I have excellent finger mittens and good hats.  Hobbling is always tough at first, but once I take off the joints soften up, so after I dumped the compost I walked down to the pond, where I warmed up enough to sit on the swing and meditate.  Had a revelatory moment, when I incorporated the Christ, understanding that it isn’t really a guy with a beard who recruits fisher people (new Bible), but that my own humanity and whatever suffering I undertake is mitigated by an internal Christ connecting me to the fundamental Good. (Realize this sounds hideously New Age, but this is the only way I can verbalize it. The whole thing seemed right to me, and was suddenly able to relax. 

 

Had a long talk with Faye, trying to sell her on the vaccine.  She’s concerned that it will give her covid, the way the flu vaccine gives her flu symptoms. She added that her friends are afraid of that as well.  I gave a glib and probably inaccurate explanation of the way the vaccine works and told her the only thing she had to worry about was her allergy to foods, but the reaction comes right away and the EPI pen would get rid of it.  I think she was somewhat convinced, but there’s such high distrust in the black community of white bias. I hope I nagged Faye enough to at least talk to her doctor next month.

 

Also long talk with Richard W, who had an emotional experience yesterday that totally vindicated not showing up for lunch. His late sister Kathy has a son who lives near Albany, whom she rejected and never spoke to before she died last year.  She wasn’t Great Mother #1.  She left her boys’ father when she fell in love with a convicted murderer, who had been a friend of her and her husband before he killed his wife while high on drugs.  He served for fifteen years or so, during which Kathy visited and corresponded with him.  After he got out they moved in together (not sure they were ever married or not).  She farmed her kids out to her first husband, who married a nasty German lady, who sent Joseph, the son who now lives in Albany, off to Boys Town.  Needless to say there was some anger.  Kathy maintained some connection with her other son, who moved out to Nevada, but she never spoke to Joseph, even after she knew she was dying.  So as Richard was driving up to see him yesterday he had an explosive rage against his sister, which ended up taking a very positive form. His nephew has two daughters, and Richard brought them various memorabilia from his parents and grandparents and information he’s gleaned off ancestry.com. And he’s decided to introduce these great nieces to their family, so many of whom he’s lost.  Really nice result.  I told him he’s forgiven for skipping the posole, but I pointed out it was really good. 

 

Watched Die Hard 1, which is a Xmas movie with lots of blood and action.

 

Sunday December 27 

 

Spent the day reading North South, making an orange almond cake for Willie and Alex, who are coming tomorrow, planning New Years food, and trying to find a jacket online for Jeremy's birthday. 

 

Sarah just texted happy anniversary, which we both forgot. Remembering it only made me sad and angry, since it’s a reminder of Michael’s indifference to celebration. I wasn’t sad before but after Sarah's call I recalled again our tenth anniversary party, which was probably the nadir of our marriage, and dispelled all hope that he would emerge in is mind with any specificity. I know he loves me, but it's an impersonal love, evidenced even in our sexual life, when we had one, which rarely had anything to do with me being there in the bed. Things, political values, an essential affection, and a love of Marvel films mark our marriage. I littered today with self-indulgence and resentment of his self-described existentialism, with my brain nattering that it gives him an excuse not to activate unless in response to someone else's request.  I've shed all parts of celebrations (birthdays, Christmas) that involve any exchanges between him and me. An anniversary may be the hardest, because it's only between him and me. And this anniversary is most likely our last. I wish I hadn’t been reminded of it.  He is, however, kind, patient, and never mean, not only with me but with our children, my sisters, and our friends. So, in spite of its limitations, I'm deeply grateful for this enduring, permissive, and unobtrusive marriage—the bearable lightness of being.

 

What would it have been like with Joe? A fifties guy with a temperament similar Michael’s, and we have no interests in common except food and politics.  His love for me was indeed special but only I suspect because it was adulterous. Mary might have dreaded their anniversaries too, not only because of his own passivity but because she had to deal with my phantom. I can't think of a reason for forgiving myself for that affair, no matter how compelling it was at the time. 

 

Read Gaskell in the living room in the late afternoon and listened to old songs that carry emotions that have no relevance now. The chords still resonate, however, and they are all sad. 

 

Watched a lot of West Wing, which is comforting in its liberal pedantry and grown-up wit. Made me feel saner. Michael gave me a back rub in the middle of the night. Good-by obnoxious day,

 

Monday December 28

Woke up late. Talked to Jeremy.  Watching Cuomo's presser, and the eligibility for the vaccine. So far not for us old guys. 

 

Alex and Willie arrived around two, and we spent the day talking in the kitchen. They brought bags and bags of sugary candies and desserts, re-gifts from Alex‘s parishioners and clients of Carol, my co-mother, who obviously wanted to get rid of every calorie in the house. We played Clue, which was really fun, mostly because of Alex's joy in EVERYTHING. He makes a great priest. We ordered dinner from Wunderbar, and then violently opposing Willie‘s suggestion for the Muppets Christmas Carol, we watched one of Alex’s favorite movies: Stardust, which was whimsical and fun. Altogether this was nicest day yet in this dreary holiday season, much of it due to Alex' uplifting presence and the affectionate and funny relationship between him and Willie. 

 

Tuesday December 29

Read all day in the kitchen with Alex, Willie and Michael. Made a frittata. Super lazy. Turns out Willie will have to go back next week to teach in the school even though the kids will be home. Alex was going to serve mass in the house, but forgot his kit. I asked him if he could kick a parishioner out of the church that confessed to an excommunicable sin. He couldn’t but he would instruct the naughty confessor on how to get absolution or what to do next.  Strange business. 

 

I baked a chicken for early dinner. The leg joints were scarily pink but we all ate it anyway. Alex left at six thirty. Michael asked Willie to check later to be sure he got home safely, which he did.  Taconic is always anxiety producing especially at night in the winter.  

 

We watched a Nathan and several West Wings.

 

Wednesday December 30

Spent the morning working on Recovery Kitchen financials, formatting a letter and watching Cuomo’s press conference on the opening of the Amtrak redesign of the NY Post Office.  

 

We went to Richard Wallace’s at six for drinks. I had made polenta and pounded chicken breasts for dinner afterward.

 

We started watching West Wing when Liz called. Ann's son Eamon had hanged himself. I called Ann right after we hung up. She heard about her son from a local cop, who had been notified by the Cincinnati police and knocked on her door this morning. Ted knew about his death last night at ten and although he called his sister and brother no one called Ann. He said he couldn’t "deal with her emotional responses". Ann doesn't know how she is going to get through it, but how can any mother? I never got over Donny's suicide and he was my brother, not my only child. She has booked a flight to Cincinnati, leaving tomorrow. 

 

I dreamed last night of a baby golden eagle that has lost its mother and came up to me and sat on my lap. I woke up half in the dream trying to figure out how to take care of it, overwhelmed with maternal anxiety.

 

Thursday December 31 

I spent the morning making small-plate food for New Year’s Eve, which we are spending with Willie, Harris and Neville. I made polenta crostini, chicken meatballs, and my typical over-stuffed spring rolls. Neville brought salmon and strudel. We started eating and drinking at five. We ate all the food and consumed a lot of sugar and alcohol for the rest of the night. 

 

Michael had too much wine and pot and did his scary pass out thing, this time urinating on the kitchen floor. It frightened Harris but not me the way it did the first time. The peeing was unpleasant, particularly because Neville cleaned it up. He certainly isn’t a mean drunk, thank God, but I wish he had a cue about his limits.

 

Learned from Liz that Ann’s flight was delayed and she had to spend the night in Detroit. More pain for her. The year ended about as shitty as it could get.

 

Friday January 1, 2021

So first of the New Year with everyone hoping that we are currently experiencing the dregs of the old. I'm not optimistic about making this year to the end but I hope its progression is better than 2020.

 

Harris and Neville stayed through a lazy breakfast and a drop-in from Dave and Janet, pleasant as always. I badgered Michael about his coma piss last night and told him I was going to throw his vaporizer away if did it again. My nagging, particularly in front of Harris and Neville, annoyed him but they had to deal with it last night. 

 

Read Gaskell all afternoon. Made burgers for dinner (vegetarian for Willie). 

 

Watched Nathan and West Wing.

December 19-25 Hazmat Suits in Portland, Zoom Family Caroling, CT Scan, Dreary Xmas

 Saturday December 19 

Woke up late.  Michael has a Zoom library meeting in the kitchen, Geoff and Kim are in the little house, and Willie is talking to his friends in the living room.  

Nice easy morning sitting in the kitchen talking off and on with Kim and the boys who wandered in and out. Made Boston brown bread with Lyle's golden syrup, which has a nice mellow molasses flavor but is incredibly sticky. Constipation still with me.

 

Kim was asked to write her district Superintendent's annual Christmas letter. Given this chaotic year, this is major trust. It’s impressive to watch Kim’s progress. 

 

Jeremy texted that people in HAZMAT suits were in his store, but no one was evacuate evacuated it.  More to come.

 

Made red cabbage and knockwurst for dinner. Watched a couple Nathan’s and a west wing.

 

Sunday December 20

 

Read Mansfield park all morning and ate fried buttered cornbread and chocolate chip cookies that Kim had brought. Willie went to church and helped them bring in the nativity figures for St. Mary's gorgeous crèche, with the full-sized first family an animal friends perched on different levels in front of the alter enveloped in poinsettias.  I'll miss it this year.  

 

Willie is talking to a friend about mental prayer. Geoff and Kim out with the snowshoes.  I have to get off my ass.

 

Hazmat suits explained.  A homeless guy had passed out in the store's bathroom with a cigarette burning in his mouth. Jeremy said a fire engine showed up with the guys in HAZMAT to protect against covid. An ambulance also arrived, but left without anyone in it. The simply left the homeless man, whom Jeremy later saw passed out at one of their dining tables and recognized as a regular in the bottle room.  Two security men took him out.  A peculiar emergency. No one seemed interested in following up on or helping the guy.  

 

Geoff and Kim, who worked on her letter most of the day. At one point they tried to go out with the snowshoes but Kim sunk into the snow as soon as she stepped onto it, fell over and couldn’t get up. Snow is pure powder!  They stayed till about five and then went home.

 

Went to Liz and Geoff’s for dinner, pot roast, mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts, and a hauntingly great orange almond cake. Geoff ended the evening with an hour long inebriated anecdote about acquiring a Beethoven death mask, which involved the entire history of his life on 55th street in the seventies. Never found out how he got the mask, but he did pull it out at the end.  It was indeed Beethoven.

 

Monday December 21

Listening to Brill Building Xmas songs on the kitchen. The best. 

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Will and I worked on Good King Wenceslas for Zoom family caroling tonight. 

Binged the rest of Mansfield Park 

 

I took a nap in the afternoon. Woke up when Dave came over. He offered to give me a ride to Albany for my next chemo session, but added that he might be in the city that day for work.  He said. “Janet could take you.” I’ll walk rather than be obligated to her, even though Janet is the only person in my life now who understands these last things, like Christmas and New Years. 

 

The family solstice Zoom concert left me with deep nostalgia. I love my family. Geoff, Kim and the boys did an excellent harmonic Little Drummer Boy, definitely the best family performers. Lee and Tom strummed and sang through the Sussex carol. Ginny introduced us to Sister Josephine, and then accompanying her guitar with a sweet rendition of a hymn I’ve never heard. Brett and his family did the first Noel. I think Willie and I paid worthy tribute to the Good King. Jim, Patty’s partner, read an essay on his childhood Christmas, and Patty and Dominique played an Otis Redding Carol. Very successful, although everyone had to applaud on mute.

 

Made chicken cacciatore. Watched Nathan and West Wing. 

 

Tuesday December 22

I need a project. Am feeling useless. Did some bad sketching and planned meals, neither of which took up more than an hour in total. With the uncertainty of my time left, committing to anything beyond a couple of months seems foolhardy. 

 

Took Willie to the train and we then loaded up on beef and chicken at the meat automat. 

 

Did a mindful walk upstairs in the afternoon, hobbling from the back room, down the hall, to the living room, repeating this for about fifteen minutes. Can't get much meditation out of it.   

 

Watched part of a new version of Daphne D'Maurie's Rebecca, which was vapid, but maybe Rebecca has always been vapid.  

 

While Michael was at Greenport planning board meeting (live), I watched a zoom local reading of the Christmas Carol, with Bill Strohmeyer as an excellent Scrooge and Ann competently playing minor roles. The other four readers were lackluster enough to make me want to join their group.

 

Wednesday December 23

Waiting for my CT scan, which is in the building next to the Cancer Center where I get treatments and PET scans. Maybe because of its bargain pricing the CT waiting room is a drearier place than the one in the Cancer Center. No television and its Xmas decorations are sparse and grim (four cardboard ornaments stuck to a panel by the registration cubicles with a metallic garland drooping over them.) The procedure itself is quick and there’s no coddling by the technicians. In and out. 

 

Picked up sandwiches at Cascades on the way home. They gave us the wrong order (but we ate them anyway. They were good). They also doubled the bill on Michael’s card but called later and are giving us a credit.  

 

Received a package for an address on our road that doesn't exist. Michael called Fed Ex customer service but eventually gave up. It's crazy season. 

 

Harrison is in Albuquerque with a peptic ulcer but turned down the antibiotics that might cure it. He's taking a proton pump inhibitor and making diet changes.  It may just be the Atkin stomach, which both Jill, Geoff, and their father suffer from.

 

 So today's scan report is already up on the St.. Peter's portal.  The good news is that the liver metastasis is receding, so the bad news is I get to keep on the chemo.  But a relatively nice Christmas present. I greet this news the way I did Biden’s win: relief but with reserved enthusiasm because of the trouble accompanying it and little indication that things will get a lot better.  If the cancer had disappeared, then that would have been the emotional equivalent to the Obama win. Sent email to everyone letting them know.

 

A lone deer is struggling in the snow on the south side of the house. Heartbreaking to watch him.  This is very tough snow for the critters.  It’s supposed to rain heavily tomorrow and on Christmas, which at least will show some earth. 

 

Baked sweet potatoes and chicken breast, which were too enthusiastic with my new Spanish spice.  

 

Am reading an Elizabeth Gaskell novel: North South. While obviously influenced by Jane and pretty good. Although she doesn't have Austen's wit, her characters are nuanced and she goes deep into nineteenth century economic issues. Was very happy to hear from Livy that she’s reading Pride and Prejudice and liking it. 

 

Watched three episodes of West Wing.

 

Thursday December 24

 

The deer broke into the vegetable garden. I could see four or five chomping near the collards and Brussels sprouts. Very happy about that. I was thinking about opening the gate anyway.

 

Listening to R&B Xmas songs while preparing posole and green chili for tomorrow.  If I cook slowly and sit between steps I don’t get worn out. Food seems to taste better than it did right after chemo. My green chili sauce is great! 

 

Tried to watch a BBC Mansfield Park and it was dreadful, totally misrepresenting all the characters, missing Jane’s acerbic and comedic portrayals of Mrs. Norris and Mr. Rushfield and worse trying to make Fanny Price spunky. Ridiculous.

 

Made roast beast and roasted vegetables for dinner, which turned out well. 

 

Watched West Wing, which gets better and better, although discouraging how little has changed in 20 years. 

 

Friday December 25

Spent the morning making the cranberry tart, enchiladas and finishing posole. Was wiped out by noon. Ann arrived at one thirty but no Richard. He texted yesterday that he was coming, but didn’t show up. At two thirty I called him and he was driving north to see his nephews, which was a little annoying but gave Ann and me the opportunity to gripe about him while eating tow much food. She was having problems with her voicemail and Michael wrestled with it.  I suggested he turn the phone on and off, which fixed it.  Ann gave Michael credit and he didn't acknowledge my minimal but successful contribution. I went through my usual internal Shempa. He never compliments me, never gives me credit, and he doesn't compliment anyone, even his kids. Nor does he expect compliments or credit for himself.  Same with giving presents. He is what he is.  He may be the Buddha.  

 

Jeremy called during the day, and Willie got under the wire at night.  Didn't hear from Geoff, Jill, or Sarah.  Was hurt but just feeling cranky today.  Dismal year, Xmas a non-event.  

 

December 12-18. Chemo Effects, Screaming House, Nancy's Saga

 Saturday December 12

 

Sitting around in the kitchen with Willie and Michael desperate to finish Heir of Ra, my obligation book, but gave in and switched over to CS Lewis on Christian morality. Tricky. Returned to Heir and finished it; it's not the worst book I’ve read this year (that dishonor belongs to the Cursed Garden), but here’s is the last line: “ The woman ignored the poll of blood forming around the man as she watched him, yellow irises burning into his lifeless body.”  Lots of bodies, lots of burning eyes, many smirks and sneers.  I don’t know what to do with it.  Ah well.

 

Had an idea for a zoom Carol singing event with Lee and Tom, Geoff and Kim, Ginny, Brett and Andrea, and Willie and me. Each household chooses two carols and sings them for everyone else. Needless to say Tom and Lee are very enthusiastic! (Also needless, Michael thinks this is an awful idea!)

 

Have been emailing Joe, and feeling odd about it.  I don’t have any residual physical connection, but house with his wife of nearly 50 years gone, he’s all alone in his. I don’t want him to be sad. 

 

Watched Repair Shop and Restaurant in the afternoon. Ordered in from baba Louis. Low appetite so I ordered salad.

 

Watched Nathan for You, which gets increasingly funny and amazing, and Mandelorian. 

 

 

Sunday December 13

 

Asked Jill and Al if they wanted to sing but Jill responded “eke”. She says she only wants to sing in the shower, which is distressing because she has a beautiful voice, probably the best of us all. It is frustrating and sad that the pain from her feelings of rejection keeps her away from her family. It’s such a nice family, occasionally ridiculous, but not mean. 

 

Temperatures in the 50s today so took a walk to the swing and, as I write this, I am rocking and practicing In the Bleak Midwinter for the family Zoom caroling. Michael joined me and we went over to around the pond, which is as full as it will get. I spotted the bones of the baby deer, still there. 

 

At home had ham sandwich for lunch but still very low appetite, which is expected. Chopped a few ginger roots, which have been neglected and shriveling in the fridge. I froze the fresher ones, then soaked the driest in water, peeled them, and put them in a jar with vinegar and sugar. They are very fibrous but maybe if they sit in the vinegar long enough they’ll soften up. 

 

Was tired in the afternoon. Lay down for about a half hour reading Mansfield Park comfort food. Then watched Repair Shop and Restaurant. I had planned to cook Lo mien with Willie but had no appetite, so reheated beef stew again. Watched Sideways, which wasn't as wonderful as I remembered. Both lead actors were full of themselves and annoying. 

 

Monday December 14

Snowing out this morning and expecting major storm on Wednesday so did an Instacart order. Very tired so took a long morning nap and felt better afterward, but appetite still lousy.

 

 Willie is teaching his classes upstairs. I love eavesdropping on his enthusiastic and articulate presentation to these young Catholic girls. Must be some major crushes among them.  In fact, his religious class surprised him the day before he came upstate by holding up hand written signs in their Zoom squares: “We love you Mr. Snow”

 

Richard Wallace called. He lost four friends in a week, none to Covid, although his nephew had it, was in intensive care, and now is home on oxygen. Nice talk with him.  Being fellow WASP upstaters, we both shared the family tradition of never grieving.  Neither of us did until each of us lost a brother to suicide. He says he’s not afraid of letting go now, and at times he’ll be working around the apartment and just break down and weep.  He’s had such losses,

 

Speaking of, Carole Clark texted me this morning that her brother died last night.  It’s all too much.

 

First nurse vaccinated today against Covid! Made me weep with hope. 

 

Patty called, and we discussed the upcoming Xmas concert.  I’m scheduling her for the surprise closure.  She and Nicky are intending to sing Barney Google.  Nicky’s boyfriend was supposed to fly to Florida but was just diagnosed with Covid, probably infected after visiting his family over Thanksgiving.

 

Returned a call from Gail Lee, who is still delighted with her Village Life in South Carolina in spite of the restrictions from Covid.  She’s riding a bike and enjoying the weather.  Those residential systems for the gray heads, with endless tracts of sunny identical homes, are designed to blunt death with water features and social events coated in nostalgia. But Gail loves it there, and why should I judge anyone who seeks to push back our last tricky years. We talked recipes and she gave me what sounds like a totally disgusting recipe for Mississippi pot roast, but insists it’s terrific. You put a chuck roast in a slow cooker, cover it with ranch dressing and gravy mix powders, along with a jar of pepperoncini peppers.  It is beloved in the South.  

 

Watched the Repair Shop and Restaurant in late afternoon by myself.

 

Made lo mien with Willie. It was OK but I don’t think I like those flavors. Still not much appetite.  Seems to be a long time for chemo recovery. 

 

Jill sent me a lovely video essay that Livy had done on climate change in New Mexico. She is such a beautiful and talented and smart young woman, an elegant cross-section of Jill and Al.

 

Willie got a text from Shannon, the nice single mom he had gone out with and watched TV with her neighbor.  She was adamant that she would never go to church, but hoped they could be friends. So today she invited him to her apartment to watch the bachelorette with her neighbor.  He couldn’t of course but this might be a relationship that has some promise.

 

We watched another Nathan and Eat Drink Man Woman, which I remembered loving but didn’t hold up as well as I wanted it to. What does?

 

When I went to bed I had a lot of mucus and gagged on it and threw up. 

 

 

Tuesday December 15

 

Listened again to Willie teaching his religion class. So good and I’m learning a couple facts about Lao Tzu, Buddha, and Confucius.

 

Still not feeling so well.  Appetite sucks. Had Campbell's chicken noodle soup for lunch, which made me do better. 

 

Went to bed at three in the afternoon, reading Mansfield Park until I fell asleep for an hour. Still feeling fatigued, so I took a bath with my current bathtub book about life in the dark before artificial light, with its eons of murder, cruelty, and superstition. Did empathy exist before electricity? Did my bathtub exercises and felt restored.

 

Have been selected as one of the top100 Columbia County women’s by a progressive women’s organization that Pam Kline helped found. She better be in her own list. It's a pretty silly list. Not a lot of diversity but a lot of Democrats.

 

Watched Repair shop and Restaurant. 

 

Willie assisted me in spatch cocking a chicken and chopping vegetables to use in the gravy. I broiled the chicken and put a biscuit batter together, intending to bake them while the bird rested. When I opened the oven to make the switch, smoke came pouring out and set off the alarm, which was preceded by a soft feminine voice announcing ominously: “There is smoke in the hall. There is smoke in the hall. There will be a noise and the noise will be loud.” An understatement. The house began screaming. Michael was on the phone with Sarah, intermittently trying to subdue our hysterical home with fans and open windows, while I juggled chicken, biscuits, gravy, and broccoli. I ended up shaking with adrenaline but the dinner was delicious! 

 

Watched Nathan and West Wing. 

 

Wednesday December 16

Preparing for big snowstorm, which is supposed to being up to two feet. 

 

Upstairs listening to Willie teach and Cuomo's press conference. Obsessing on the vaccine.  

 

Buying Christmas presents for friends online, food and books. Kids and grandkids get Amazon gift cards or cash. Dreary.

 

Talked to Harris and Neville while putting together sweet potato and ham casserole about coming up here New Year’s Eve.  Neville must have been stoned because she was reverting back to stories of her beloved father, most of which I’ve had several times. This one was about a New Year's party when he dressed up as Father Time and her uncle as the baby New Year, which was hysterical in the fifties but I told her get any ideas about reviving it in the more cynical teens. It was hard to prepare dinner and listen at the same time to her unrelentingly gentle and stoned nostalgia. I was feeling nausea and the shakes, that I sometimes at dusk after chemo.  Casserole tasted fine,

 

Watched new season of Expanse, a Nathan, and West Wing. 

 

December 17 Thursday

 

Nearly two feet of snow fell last night. Poor deer. Power held up around here so we are snug. The snow is light and beautiful and the wind brushed it off the sheen of ice covering the pond, I am intensely nostalgic for skiing and skating. Maybe tomorrow I can get into my snowshoes, their poor cousin.

 

Spent the morning looking at Cooks for recipes and food prep ideas.  Reorganized the pantry while Michael blew snow off the driveway. I have about ten gelatin boxes, a dozen cans of tomatoes, and I threw out many items with 2016 expire dates. Very satisfying.

 

The Columbia County Women’s Alliance had scheduled a zoom celebration of their 100 honored women for 7:30. By the evening, however, the number of honorees had gone up to 169 after a storm of outraged women inundated the alliance with the names of equally venerable and inexplicably rejected potential honorees. Not many women left in the county who are not elevated by this honor. I didn't attend. I

 

Made Bolognese sauce for pasta. Watched two Restaurant episodes while it was cooking, great Swedish series. Very soapy,

 

Got into elaborate texting with Nancy Ehrlich, an old friend and colleague from my Scientific American days. She’s in Tucson caring for her two step grandchildren and working remotely for Reuters Health while her stepdaughter is getting aggressive treatment for breast cancer. Since I’ve known Nancy, which is now about forty years, she has been the caregiver for someone. When she first started work for us, it was her parents.  We could depend on one or the other heading to the emergency room whenever Nancy had finally decided to take a vacation. I don’t think she ever did. Her mother and father shared about seven chronic illnesses, none of which killed them but were designed to keep Nancy on her toes and out of the dating scene. Also during this period she was single handed editing an innovative textbook for surgeons, working late every night. Nancy endured these pressures while being physical frail herself, a condition that got worse until finally, after she left SAM, she was diagnosed with celiac.  Her health improved, her parents passed away, and she met and married Ramon, a widower with a teenage daughter, who maintained a steadfast loyalty to her dead mother and therefore hated her new stepmother. By the time Nancy married Ramon she was too old to have kids, so this sullen and hostile girl was it, another opportunity for doomed caregiving.  Nancy's gentleness and patience finally wore the girl down and things got better. Ah, not so fast. Ramon's ancient mother, another death-defying parent, started to fail, so Nancy took on once more the caregiver role that seemed to be fated for.  Mom finally died, but then Ramon became injured and sick. Throughout these sacrificial years Nancy took on increasingly responsible medical editorial jobs, which probably kept her sane. Ramon improved. Her stepdaughter got married and had two kids, all living in Tucson and Nancy began sending us photos of her very cute grandchildren and we could finally be happy for her. And now this. Thinking of Mansfield Park, she’s the closest modern person I’ve found to Fanny price.

 

Friday December 18 

 

Jeanine is here bringing chaos, high on pain killers after shoveling induced back ache, ranting continuously about her latest disaster (a dead battery and evil Nissan dealership), blasting Rolling Stones on the radio. She is the whirlwind but when she leaves, the house is in order. I remain grateful.

 

 So wanted to go outside but it was very cold. Spent a lazy day, watching Cuomo’s Presser, reading Mansfield Park, and finishing the Restaurant.  Sad for it to end but it had satisfying happy endings for all these good characters.  Michael and I also later watched the last Mandelorian episode, another satisfying ending. 

 

Geoff and Kim arrived at 8:30, and Kim had made amazingly fabulous Xmas cookies.  I’ve been so constipated that I felt lousy, had no appetite, and hadn’t eaten any dinner. Nevertheless I scarfed down about four cookies.  Went to bed early, felt sick and tossed them all up.  So it goes. 

December 5-11. Chemo, Worst Movie, Limericks

 Saturday December 5

Slept late and had amazing happy meditation-leg exercises in the bathtub, a throwback to my childhood when movement was a pleasure not an obligation. Splashing and kicking. 

 

Read the most recent book in the series by Caimh McDonnell with quirky characters ala Elmore Leonard, brain numbing but fun. 

 

Leslie Kane called and reported the gossip at work, notably layoffs by new owners who had of course promised no changes after the purchase, the boilerplate lie after a sale that no one believes. None of my old colleagues were fired except for Richard Bollander, the patient production manager who shepherded into life the two physician survey slideshows that made everyone who worked on them miserable. Fortunately he had planned to retire anyway. He was counting then on a graceful departure but instead he was subjected to the same brutal ejection that everyone who is fired or laid off experiences now. No passing on of knowledge. No party. No departure with dignity. Drop your socks and grab your box.  At Scientific American I had to lay off our entire customer service department.  They were given two month's notice.  No one stole their pencils or computers.  And most had a job by the time they left. 

 

In the afternoon I spun out a press release for the Recovery Kitchen on the hidden hungry-the people in poverty or near poverty who aren’t counted on any of the lists. 

 

Dave helped Michael prepare the tractor for the snow blower and Michael went over to Dave’s to help him with his cabinets in the barn. 

 

Jill described a tortilla chili casserole and I decided to try a version of it. Worked out pretty well. But was a little mushy.

 

Watched the Morning Show.

 

Sunday December 6

Read in the morning.

 

Drove to Kingston to see Harris and Neville and the status of their new house, which is now brilliant with their stuff hanging on the walls and lined up on shelves. They fed us salmon and a farro pilaf. Harris' told us that his nephew Svi, who was on his way to kidney failure, just got a transplant, his second organ donation. He already has a gifted liver after hepatitis destroyed the original.  Nice seeing them in person. 

 

In the evening Dave and Janet came by with a chicken and vegetables in a roasting dish after discovering their oven had broken. They stood around while ours preheated and warmed up their dinner. We offered wine but they refused, never sat down or took their jackets off. The conversation with Janet was smiley and friendly but it only served as the long wall that has built up between us over the years, replacing any intimacy. 

 

I’ve been doing too much streaming: The Restaurant and Repair Shop by myself in the afternoon and Morning Show with Michael after dinner.

 

Monday December 7

Off to Albany for appointment with Dr. Luyun, who reported on his new dog fences. The CT can is going to be scheduled between Christmas  and New Years, with the next chemo in the week following New Years. If the chemo is doing any good and I can tolerate it after next three infusion that I'll go on to the next cycle.  Lots of ifs. 

 

Jeremy reported in his call today that he cooked a baby lamb chop. Very pleased that the boys are cooking. He showed me one of those fever dream pictures, where one tiny figure is hidden among crowds of hundreds of others; in this case the figure was Baby Yoda among hundreds of Grinches. Jeremy found his Yoda first and had to give me several hints before I located mine. Of course once you find these images it’s all you can see when you look at the whole picture. It made me feel demented. 

 

Watched Cuomo's press conference; he had Fauci on, which was comforting in spite of the hideous holiday covid spikes. 

 

Biden passed over Michelle, our sister in law, for HHS secretary, which is too bad. She'd be good in that job. But governor of NM isn’t awful.

 

Talked to Faye today who has been having terrible headaches, which is worrisome given her previous small stroke. I got naggy, urging her to call the doctor. Always haunted by Michael's brother Greg, whose doctor disregarded his headaches for  months until he died of a slow bleed in the brain.

 

Got the Recovery Kitchen press release off to our limited gaggle of local media. Carole emailed me, concerned that the message in the release (recommend people who need meals) would create push back from critics afraid of freeloaders. I responded that the Army was a good model. We fed anyone who wanted food. No vetting. It’s not like we’re a government agency or giving out money. Carole was emailing from the ICU where her brother lay dying. She had just finished taking care of her friend David, who died a couple weeks ago. Not a good time for her. I have to remember not to be obnoxious.

 

I made meatloaf and baked potato. Had an intense and extreme eye reaction to onion chopping.  Might be a chemo effect or perhaps I triggered some allergic reaction the last time I made canalized onions. I sliced about four and my eyes watered and burned for two days afterward. I love chopping onions! Matching the knife cuts with the beautiful striations and then cross hatching is a great pleasure.  I hope this isn't an ongoing problem.

 

  Watched Morning Show with Michael and Restaurant and Repair Shop by myself. Starting a book on Kindle that I volunteered to read and review on Amazon after getting an email from the author who had read one of my other reviews. I hope it’s ok because I won’t give bad reviews. 

 

Willie called with his weekend list of videos, his latest being a series by Nathan Fielder, who like Tim Heidegger and Sasha Baron Cohen, evolved out of the Andy Kaufman school. We need another name for this genre. Not really comedy, not really parody. These performers don't break the fourth wall, but engage in real situations and create distortions that can be incredibly funny but at the same time can trigger extreme discomfort.

 

Streamed Repair shop, Restaurant, Morning Show.

 

Tuesday December 8

In the infusion room for my chemo. Ann kindly drove me to Albany. Nice of her and it gave us a chance to hang out by ourselves. I’m now eavesdropping on a conversation between a nurse and a caregiver of a patient who is about to go one immunotherapy. How I envy him.

 

Brahms Lullaby plays whenever a baby is born in the hospital next door. I’ve been here a half hour and heard it played twice. Melissa, my chemo nurse, said a lot of babies have been born lately. Counting back nine months, the increase coincides with the beginning of the quarantine. So these early births may just be drops in the baby bucket preceding a major splash. Melissa in fact is also pregnant, with her baby due in April. 

 

Alix  Cohen sent me one of her cards today and a pile off glitter landed on my lap. Why did she do that? 

 

Talked to Geoff this afternoon. Everyone is good in Neverland. 

 

Made meatloaf sandwiches for dinner. Eyes still burning and watering from yesterday’s onions. I have chronic dry eyes to begin with.  Hope the onions fumes didn’t add some additional damage.

 

Streamed Repair Shop, Restaurant, and the last episode of the Morning Show. The odds are dim that I'll make it for subsequent seasons of my favorite series. But, then again, they are only TV shows.  Far on the list of things I will be sad about missing.  Started Brockmire, a new show with Hank Asario, an ADHD alcoholic sports caster.

 

Wednesday December 9

Chemo side effects  haven’t hit yet.  Got up early to get pot roast going. Watched Cuomo’s press conference about upcoming vaccine distributors and the need for federal funding. He’s getting some flack for being a mean scary boss, which I’m sure he is. I’ve had many scary bosses who are also incompetent, which I don’t think he is. So deal with it I think.

 

Starting Xmas gift lists.

 

Willie called. His school is going full remote so he’s coming back up here for the duration. Yay. 

 

Dave came by for a drink.  Janet is getting steroids to reduce inflammation in the brain.  This doesn’t sound good. 

 

Emailed Carole Clark asking for clarification on some of the financial issues and she’s with her dying brother.  I felt like a jerk.  

 

Had  big pot roast for dinner. Watched Brockmire and then the Restaurant by myself.  Staying awake long enough to get my Zofran dose to prevent nausea.

 

Thursday December 10

 

Slept late and fatigued ala post chemo Thursday. Emailing Jill who has a cold and facing a New Mexico storm .

 

Also reading the book I promised this author I’d review On Amazon. It’s an Indian Jones type adventure, but unfortunately my reckless offer has me facing pages of bad writing—lots of smirks and sneers and one “she smiled a thin smile”.  This appears to be the author randomly reminding himself that his characters need to express some version of emotion. I’m hoping the adventure part will balance out the character inadequacies so I can say something nice.

 

Edited diary in the afternoon and wrote a political limerick that I sent to Ann Strohmeyer in response to her brilliant one.  Here’s hers. 

 

Let’s raise up a full glass of slivovitz 

In farewell to “monsters” and “idiots”

To “bad things will happen”

And crony back slappin’

(But hello to sore loser twitter blitz!)

 

Mine was more pedestrian but had more stanzas:

To us the election's completed

But the lies just keep on being tweeted

"There's enough stolen votes 

to sink several boats

And Trump will go on undefeated."

 

But judges are throwing out cases

So officials can certify races

That swing to the left

Leaving Trumpists bereft,

Putting Dems into all the right places.

 

So here's to a Chief we can hail, 

And, although he's a little bit stale,

We can finally relax

With a surging of facts

That put Rudy and Trump into jail

 

Couldn’t eat anything except yogurt for dinner. 

 

Watched the worst movie ever last night on HBO: Let Them All Talk starring Meryl Streep, Candice Bergen, and Diane Wiest shuffling improvisational conversations on the QE2 while traveling to England. The plot meanders around Meryl's writer’s block and two pals of her youth, whom she invited to tag along ostensibly to resolve past issues. This excursion relied on the fantasy that a book publisher would not only foot the bill for Meryl’s first class accommodations but also those of her fellow travelers, including a millennial nephew, whose presence as most likely intended to attract a younger audience. It became clear as the movie progressed, in fact, that the point of the film (and most likely a source of its funding) was to give the viewer a tour of the QE2’s many elegant spaces, where the characters wandered in and out of like pawns in a pointless game of Clue, occasionally running into each other and engaging in improvised dialogue.  (Lesson learned: improvisation should be limited to acting classes.  Also we don’t get quicker as we older.) The women’s conversations were gutted with uhs and ohs between vague references to their common past, which never were clarified.  The viewer does discover that Meryl’s best seller covered Candace's youthful adventures and that it ruined her life, but their dreary listless talks never reveal those adventures and how sticking them in a novel ruined Bergen's life.  As for Diane Wiest, she just seems to be along for this nice ride, wandering the ship and playing board games. Occasionally she furthers the exposition by running into Candice in a gorgeous bar or tea shop and asking unanswered questions about her friend’s life.  During one of these encounters, the two women did make a passing reference to Meryl’s affected accent, which opened up an opportunity for some mild comic exchange, but the friends followed up and Meryl continued making broad and weird speeches until her sudden death near the end, possibly the only scripted plot point. The film received ridiculously respectful reviews, the critics bowing to Steven Soderbergh’s lazy direction, all those venerable Dames, and the dream of traveling to London in the QE2. 

 

Friday December 11

Slept late today. A little less wonked out than yesterday.  Read the obligatory sci-fi/Indiana Jones manque novel. The author is an obvious geek who is not bad at describing technical processes and clips of Egyptian mythology, but he should completely avoid any attempt at character, particularly the pointless use of facial gesture cliches. According to my Kindle I still have two hours to go on it.  

 

The press release I submitted for the Recovery Kitchen got a write up in the Times Union.  Pleased with that.

 

Tried a Jack Kornfield loving kindness mediation but he’s so soothing that I never can stay awake.  

 

Michael dumped the cat shit for me yesterday.  So grateful!

 

Emailed back and forth with Jill regarding the sad state of older American female actresses and the puerile writing that requires a sexual reference even for women in their late sixties and early seventies.  

 

Picked Willie up at six thirty, who’s here through the holiday. Yay. Reheated a tuna casserole for Catholic Friday dinner, then watched Nathan Fielder, with his Borat-lite documentaries. Pretty funny but a little two edgy, I’d rather watch Restaurant, Repair Shop, and this week’s Mandelorian.