Jenny on the Moonstone Beach Boardwalk, Cambria, CA: April, 2025

So, I sort of stopped blogging because, you know, cancer, but I was getting ready to send a message to those I love with the latest update, and as I have at least one funny photo, I thought I would share the news here and then share this with folks, as opposed to, oh, I don’t know, a really long e-mail chain with responses and no beginning or end?

THIS is the funny picture: Jenny going to do battle with overgrown cactus intruders (circa last night), wearing Robert’s Halloween costume pre MAGA vest, my stylish apron, and gloves. I still ended up full of cactus spines. At this point, I am part cactus.

Oops! I must be feeling a little ranty tonight, so I will try to get serious because cancer is serious. It also sucks, and my kind of cancer (colorectal with the emphasis on the rectal) really sucks because it treats well (hurray!) but you often end up alive and with a colostomy bag (NOT hurray). My surgeon refers to this in the manner of surgeons as “a life altering-surgery.” Thanks…I kind of figured that out. But back to my case: good news!

                  The good news is that my oral chemo and brutal radiation regime worked: I have something called a “total and complete response.” Happy Dance!!!! The less good news: the doctors gave me a real runaround on next steps, with one doctor saying X, another saying Y, and then the doctor who was in charge of X or Y was kinds like, “Gee, I don’t know, let me check and be patient, patient,” but I was done being patient for two months, so I pushed, and the answer was very, very careful: I do not medically need IV chemo (although at least one doctor told me I did), but the doctor in charge of chemo did admit that if I wanted to treat the cancer aggressively, then that was an option. I asked her what she meant, and she said something like,” Oh, you are young and strong, and if you can’t tolerate it, well, there is some possible benefit, although we do not have the data on early-stage cancers like yours…” and when I said, “What?” she finally said. “If I was in your position and wanting to do everything I could do to prevent recurrence, I would do the IV chemo.”

                  That was last Wednesday, and it sent me into a tailspin: Had I just demanded a treatment that would mess my entire life up and possibly leave me with permanent side effects or had I just successfully advocated for myself in a confusing medical system? Reader, you can decide on your own, but it looks like I am starting the bad IV chemo pretty soon, which means…no Bus trips? no hair (been there, done that—see “Bald is Beautiful”), no more cancer? Or at least that is what I hope.

In other news, we made it to the No Kings protest in Highland Park, CA, at York and Fig, and it was a giant dance party with all the hipster folks (with kids and small dogs!) and older and white LGBTQ folks, and old ladies and crazy teenagers and one fellow who grew up here back in the day and he was Italian, and the lovely family who parked by us, and the veterans, and the young kids, and all the people who carried signs or flags or who just showed up: THANK YOU.

Finally, I have been remiss on sending e-mails, connecting with folks, or doing anything responsible, concentrating instead on gardening, cooking, reading, and getting ready to make Hilda’s quilt at last. I hope to get to see my beloved Cancer sign birthday friends, and I will be thinking of my father, a man who claimed two days as his birthday and celebrated both, which tells you something about him.

Happy Birthday, Dad: June 28/29^th, 1931-March 3, 2024. Macht nichts!