This summer, I was attending a symphony concert in San Francisco where I was introduced to Manny Yekutiel. Manny is the founder of a civic engagement coffee shop aptly named “Manny’s.” They host political debates, cultural events and generally bring the community together. I have watched him from afar and have deep admiration for him and his contribution to the cultural and political life of San Francisco.

When I was introduced to him that June evening, I was a little star struck. He immediately shook my hand as he told me his name was Manny.

I haven’t eaten a fruit or a vegetable for over a year. I mean none. No salad, no broccoli, no mangoes, no roasted vegetables. I’m serious!
 
Except the time I ate a tomato and got an enormous stomachache.:) I could easily digest proteins such as steak, chicken, fish or tofu but not a tomato! I even consulted with a nutritionist to help me with this nutritional predicament. It did not work. I still had stomach pain.

I am exhausted. For the last month I have been on a rollercoaster not qualifying for two clinical trials. The first clinical trial I did not qualify for was because I did not have enough cancer. The second clinical trial gave me the same reason.

Last Monday our beloved dog Cosmos died.  We knew Cosmos was nearing the end. He wasn’t eating or drinking. He was 15 years old, so he was just an old dog. Steve and I went to the Pet Hospital on Fillmore and Washington. They could not have been nicer. He was our family dog –the one that Oliver, Benjamin and Claire grew up with. They were very sad to hear the news. Memories of him – sweet, cozy and loyal Cosmos – give me comfort, but I miss him. We still have our silly and playful 3 year-old Pluto, so yes, we have distraction from losing Cosmos, but still.

I struggle with the amount of time that I spend involved in my medical care. As you know, every three weeks I have a chemo week: doing chemo, recovering from chemo, getting scans and blood draws and picking myself up again after the week is over. It feels like a lot. In actuality, the number of hours spent doing this is less than the rest of my time, and luckily this summer I was able to go to one of my favorite places in the world in between my chemo weeks. Yes, I’m talking about Sugar Bowl.

Two weeks ago, I found myself in a sea of purple cap and gowns at my son, Ben’s college graduation. I felt enormous pride and emotion in celebrating his success at college. His was the class of 2020 that did not have graduation from high school due to Covid. This made his graduation even more poignant. As I sat in my seat, I felt grateful he was able to have this moment. I felt grateful to be there, too.

Two weeks ago, the day after chemo, I had an appointment for a facial in Sausalito. I got completely lost getting there, despite the fact that I have been going to see this woman for years. Somehow the narrow streets with lots of hills and valleys had me completely turned around.

Since I was late, my facial lady called me to see if I was ok. I told her, “No, I am completely and totally lost!”

I have a funny story to tell you.

I was 12 years old when I went on a boat trip with my biological father to an island in Maine called Isleboro. I was 4 years old when my parents divorced, and would see my father once a year. It was always exciting to spend time with him. He was a fun loving person and had a zest for adventure.

I’ve been feeling happy! I haven’t cried for days.

But today is the day before I get chemo. So, everything is going to change.

As you know I am on a three-week cycle. The good news is that it’s predictable. But that doesn’t mean it is easy for me.

It’s not surprising I got Covid during my holiday break. I spent almost every night in Sugarbowl sitting shoulder to shoulder with good friends and family, eating delicious food and listening to music. One night involved eating an amazing dinner by a celebrated chef, another night was listening to music from a friend’s band, and another was an open mic night celebrating the local musical talent.

I’ve always been driven by my need to have authentic connection with people.

I chose a profession, nursing, as a pathway because of my desire to connect. It would’ve made more sense if I had gone into advertising, finance or even being a ski bum. (I come from a long line of bankers. I was supposed to be a banker or marry one. Neither of which I did!) I love people and am fascinated by their inner workings. When I connect with someone in a real way it makes my heart swell.

Steve belongs in the hidden box of super heroes who help people going through cancer treatment. And today I want to reveal his super powers of kindness, commitment and endless patience and love.

I first met Steve through Pam, a good friend of mine. He was dating her very seriously. She was beautiful, cool, had the greatest silver jewelry, and the most amazing hippy clothes. I was in awe of her. To be perfectly clear, I was more star struck with her than I was with Steve! LOL

Two weeks ago, Steve and I woke up early on a Monday morning and flew to Los Angeles. We had an appointment at Milano Wigs which is famously known for supplying beautiful wigs to people who have lost their hair. I had canceled a previous appointment in July when I was feeling low and desperately wanted to cancel this one, too. I really did not want to go. I’m at a weird juxtaposition, where my hair has thinned but I have not lost it all. I can pass for someone not in chemo. I may have thin hair but I’m not completely bald.

So here’s what’s really going on: You may recall this past spring I started on a new chemo drug called Enhertu. It is a wonder drug and my numbers are low. But every three weeks I have to do chemo.

I have always been a seeker of connection to others and the world at large. I have seen myself as connected to things both small and large. Daily I feel the need to connect within the part of myself that shines bright. Sometimes I feel if I lose connection to the divine, what would happen?

I have always been occupied by my hair. When I was young I had very blonde hair with curly pigtails just like Cindy Brady, of The Brady Bunch. I loved them and I totally identified with Cindy and her hair.

I never wanted to feel like my cancer diagnosis was something that I wanted to report on. I wanted my cancer to go away, so I did not need to think or write about it. I wanted to do anything else but report on myself.

But here I am. I have had cancer many times. It started 18 years ago with my first diagnosis of Stage 3 breast cancer with almost a year of treatment. Oliver was 4 years old, Ben was 2, and Claire was 8 months old. Ten years later it was back again, with another necessary surgery.