Saturday March 6
Did recovery work this morning. Processed stock and roasted tomato for sauce. Made a meat loaf sandwich and was reading the latest Caimh McConnell book from his comedy detective series. I suddenly started hallucinating changes in the way I accessed the book on my Kindle. I was able to talk coherently to Michael, observe Diana sitting in her box, be aware that I had to pull the tomatoes out of the oven, but also was experiencing jumble of images, as if my brain was a house with one blown fuse that caused a dream state in one room, while in the other I was aware and awake—existing in two realities at the same time. Very scary. Took a nap, which helped although I was distracted by Jim Dolan’s visit to work with Michael on the petitions we need for our Democrat committee.
Cuomo getting attacked on all sides now, with three feeble accusations of sexual harassment and old staffers coming out of the woodwork to go after his bullying behavior, which they’ve been eager to do for years but were too afraid of him and are now able to add to the attacks politically protected behind the skirts of the me too movement. And then there’s the nursing home death count, which anyone who watched his pressers in the early days knew was problematic for him, but hey., everyone has forgotten how he managed to keep us calm during those chaotic days. They’re all now kicking him and hoping he’ll stay down. I hope he doesn’t.
Neville called later very upset. Zoe is angry with her for setting up the dinner for her brother and bullying Harris into holding it, jeopardizing their health. She’s worrying about the viral variants. I repeated my argument that they had very little risk and that Zoe should be angry with me. Not Neville. I was the bully. I talked to Harris and apologized for my belligerence but added that I still believed they had nothing to worry about. After I got off the phone I googled latest on the variants, which are indeed worrisome. But don’t think they’ll crash Neville’s dinner for her dying brother. It is all very difficult.
Willie called. He and Ingrid have texted links back and forth. She sent him a Sam Cooke video that she thought he’d like. Perhaps the other guy isn’t working out, although I still cheer for Shannon, the single mom
Made parm from last year’s eggplant. Really good.
Watched my new Danish series Seaside Hotel by myself. We watched west Wing together.
Sunday March 7
Lazy sunny cold morning. Finished my latest Caimh McDonnell in his satisfying and imaginative black comedy detective series. He must write a book an hour.
More RK work. Did some diary edits and made meat loaf sandwiches. Went to town to give petitions to Carrie for judges and committee members. Had Michael drop me off at the bottom of her drive so I could at least get some walking in. It’s very difficult but I need to step up. I was nagging Jeremy this morning about getting out and admitted I needed to nag myself. He later sent a video of a Portland downpour. It rains every damn day there!
Watched some Seaside Hotel. Reheated eggplant and then we watched more West Wing. Was looking on the mirror in the bathroom while doing nighttime routine and suddenly realized that the self in the mirror has nothing to do with me and never had as long as I’ve been looking in mirrors. It’s not that I have a bad self-image. I have no self image. I don’t know what I look like. If I ran into myself on the street I’d assume I was a stranger.
Monday March 8
Off to my gynecologist, Dr. Marici, the husband of Dr. Marici my primary doc. I wanted him to check and see if my lichen sclerosis is still there. He thought everything looked clear. On the way out I ran into Carole Clark, who was there for a possible UTI. Almost didn’t recognize her with the mask and sunglasses. But her gray curly hair is a giveaway. She had just emailed me asking if I would forge her signature on a letter that I had drafted to authorize vaccinations for our drivers. Sure.
Lots of calls for Cuomo to resign because of bullshit harassment accusations. Meanwhile a half dozen Republican governors want to pass legislation to forbid companies from mandating vaccinations. So we get rid of our Governor who kept us alive during the early months of the pandemic and these guys go on to kill more people. I almost feel like leaving the party. It’s so dysfunctional and its micro attacks on small trees are destroying the forest.
Ann came by in early afternoon to pick up eggplants. She brought baked evil pastries for us. Hardly a fair exchange. She stayed for a while, talked about giving Eamon’s jeep to her niece Marianna, and the process of getting it to her from Cincinnati. “She wants me to fly out with her, but I don’t want to go there.” No reason why Ann should. She has friends there and Ted has paid help to get the jeep pried out of Ohio.
Patty called with a relationship question. Jim just bought a sailboat in Canada, which he wants to sail this summer down the coast to Maine. Such a trip is his lifelong dream. Patty is gone most of the summer to horse shows anyway and she does support lifelong dreams. The issue is money. Jim doesn’t have any, with no fiddle making in this Covid world he’s been cashing out his retirement money. Meanwhile Patty’s business pays for their housing and utilities. They have a joint account for groceries but Jim buys the food and cooks and often uses his own. I was a bit confused over what the conflict was but it looks like it came down to inequities, Jim contributing food and Patty or her business everything else. And now he’s off on his dream trip.
Patty and Dominique are still in Florida and won’t be back till end of March, when she’ll have only about eight weeks with Jim before the next round of horse shows and Jim’s sail starts. Of course, they should make that time pleasant and not develop resentment, but that advice is thrift shop cheap.
Ann called later and fretted again about her niece and her brother’s lawyer friend Sean, who she claims are involving themselves with the sale of Eamon’s house without talking to her about it. They don’t want to see Ann cheated but she doesn’t care and also doesn’t believe that she will be. What she really wants is not to deal with the house at all but their interference makes this unlikely. Everyone is well meaning but focusing their efforts of money and prolonging the sale is only prolonging the pain that this house brings with it.
Made knockwurst and leftovers. Watched many west wings.
Tuesday March 9
Off at eleven to have pictures taken of Pam, Carole and me at the RK kitchen. Didi Barrett is taking them to Albany for some event honoring women who fight Covid. They were making paella for the daily meal, looked delicious although Jamie said he spilled a container of vegetables so not as much as he wanted. Chicken pieces were grilling on the stove. Looked like so much fun. Michael took our pictures masked. Then off to the meat automate for pork chops. The day is sunny and the temperatures have reached 50 so Michael and I walked to the pond and now I’m welcoming the nearly balmy day sitting on the swing for the first time since last fall. Spring is starting to uncurl but March and April still have tricks in the wind. I dreamed last night I was running along a dirt path. It felt wonderful. Then awake to the hobbling.
Making pork chops in the sous vide. Dave called Michael by mistake on his way from Manhattan to Hudson after shoulder surgery today for severe rips in his rotator cuff. I hope Janet is driving. He’s addicted to extreme exercises (currently animal flow, an insane macho practice involving constant movement, torquing and stressing every muscle). He’s had more muscle and joint surgeries than anyone I know, which includes a recent ankle replacement.
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Jim Dolan showed up while I was prepping dinner to bring petitions. I got him to veer away from Cuomo bashing, although the alternative wasn’t great. He repeated the reminiscences for about the fourth time of his peak experience of being a young police chief, when knew Mike Tyson’s manager and was flown to Los Vegas for a celebrity party, before his indictment and his life went downhill.
After Jim left we ate the pork chops, baked potatoes, and roasted Brussels sprouts with cherry tomatoes. We watched west wing
Wednesday March 10
Woke up early for my CT scan appointment. On my way to the bedroom after my bath I looked out the window to see a very large muscle of a bobcat ambling by the garden. The cat was very big, at least three feet long. I got a very brief video of him, disappearing into the brush. A few minutes later three deer wandered by the garden and immediately went into high alert and left. Did not dawdle.
Went to Albany for the scan. When I got home the report was already on the website. Liver tumors have increased slightly but is it enough so that I have to stop chemo? in any case, they haven’t regressed, which means that even if I continue it’s unlikely that they’ll disappear. None of this is surprising or unexpected, but reality always cheapens the imagination, even if the imagination envisions a limited time. I have not been expecting to live out the year, but the body and the mind shrink back from the abyss. I’ll continue to prepare of course, but right now I want to disappear into my Danish Seaside soap. Michael is out seeding the meadow. I asked him how he felt, that I have no idea how he’s feeling, and he said “afraid”. I’m preoccupied with how I can get out of doing these spreadsheets every hour until I collapse.
Had a long meeting with Carole and women she had recruited to write a survey for the meal recipients.
Richard Snow emailed me that he had heard from Marla, my friend and babysitter who may or may not have been psychotic, is married to someone named Roy and has a house right across the river. He an adjunct professor at Long Island University and has some kind of cultish business. She changed her name from Marla Collins to Marla Del Collins. I told Richard he could give her my email address and she got in touch with me. What now.
Ordered from Wunderbar. Couldn’t eat much. Am filled with sadness and longing. It’s as if I’m in love with an unattainable, which is of course my life.
Thursday March 11
All I seem to be having these days are long RK Zoom meetings. This morning it was with John Javna, an emigrant to Hudson from Oregon, who started an organization that picks up food from volunteers and delivers to food banks using an ingenious system and network of drivers and donors that he’s been able to scale for other communities. It’s different from what we do, but there’s a lot of common issues. Yesterday’s gloom has passed.
Had a late meeting with Ellen, our newly recruited social media person and general publicist. Like her a lot. She lost her husband to cancer six years ago when her kids were still in middle and high school. Smart and sympathetic. She reports on our new fundraising committee run by a woman named Wickham Boyle with a hefty NYC resume (ran la Mama) and a claim: ”I don’t play well In the sandbox and I’m not good with others.” She’s around seventy, heavy, and looking to be yet another big frog up here in the pond. Her first email leaked floral
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Weather is in the high sixties and I went out on the swing. Everything is happy today. One of our two regular red-tailed hawks was scouting the meadow for an early dinner. The pine trees were waltzing to a ragtime breeze. A fly optimistically buzzed me. Spring is teasing. I’ll take it.
Heated leftovers stuffed squash and binged seaside and west wing.
Friday March 12
Had a recovery kitchen meeting with Carol and Pam and the woman who owns a farm out in Taconic with her husband. They recently moved to Columbia County. She was in tech and he’s an investor. The farm is hundreds of acres but they don’t want to grow anything themselves. The idea is to set up an enterprise collectively owned by farmers growing vegetables in container cars, which would allow them to produce food that ordinarily would require a California climate. A solar array would generate all the electricity.
Talked Dr. Luyun today about the CT results and that there was some progression so an indication that there was some resistance to the current chemo regime. However, no new tumors popped up, so he wanted me to switch to a 5-FU and a platinum-based regimen. I told him I just couldn’t got back on the 5-FU because of the hideous side effects during the initial treatments, particularly mouth sores and despairing-making toxic change in taste. He said I would be taking Xeloda, the oral version and the dosage could be modified so that the side effects weren’t as bad. He added that he believed that the oral side effect from the first time were due to the mytomycin, the other initial horrible drug. I told him about some studies indicating that radiotherapy might be an option for liver metastasis when there were fewer than five tumors and they were small I have an appointment with Dr. Savage, my wonderful radio therapist, in a couple weeks so Luyun said that if Savage wanted to try radiotherapy then I do that first. If he didn’t, I’d go on the 5-FU. So that’s what’s happening. As I he walked out the door, he said he didn’t want me to give up treatment. Which I thought was nice of him.
Jeremy called and described having a panic attack a few days after he had his second Moderna shot.
I made a Greek chicken and lemon dish and then we watched west wing.
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