J u d i t h

Dear Judith,

It’s been 4 months since our last correspondence. I heard today from your daughter that you have departed us. We met during a writing class. You were coming and going with your green juice. You were losing your hair but you didn’t bother to hide it and for that I thought of how brave you are. I hid my hairless head the entire summer under my summer hat. You proudly displayed it. You were on your chemo, it sounded like. You looked like you were in discomfort sometimes. I did not speak to you much. I did not speak with people at all during the class. I wanted my polished words to represent me. But you remained vocal. You gave all of us your comments on our pieces. You had a very magnetic voice and I will always remember that. I remember hearing that you were close to finishing your chemo. I didn’t know that your disease had progressed so quickly. I wrote a memoir piece and the next day after the moderator distributed it to the rest of the class I got an email from you:

Oh, Pamela,
I am completely overwhelmed with your beautiful memoir piece.  It is beautifully written.  It is powerful.  It is so deeply honest and heartfelt.  It elevates my consciousness and brings me into your world…physically, emotionally, visually, in every way.  What more can I say?  It is a truly wonderful piece of writing and a very important and moving story.  Thank you.
I send you love and blessings.  You’ve got a hard path and you are handling it with grace, by doing the best you can.  Don’t judge yourself.  You are a stunning human being and I’m glad to know you.

Judith, I was in awe and continues to be in awe of your presence. God came to retrieve another one of his angels. I look forward to the day when I can sit and share more stories with you again. I miss you dearly. Godspeed.

f r i e n d s

my best friend and I are now on the same medicine. it’s zofran; for anti-nausea. she’s on it for her pregnancy. and i’m on it for my chemo. life is so ironic isn’t it. i am nursing my illness. and next year she will be nursing her baby. Remy and i never talked about kids. we were only married for 4 months when we found out i have cancer. we never had the time to talk about it. we thought we had. talk about names, buy baby clothes, the whole nine yards. now we talk about surrogacy. of having someone else carry our kid for us. because medically i wouldn’t be able to. i need to be on treatment to survive. and a nine month break would be impossible. as for my friend, we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet. i think my tumor is a guy. it’s a pretty tough guy. he is not wavering in his war against my body. but i know my medications and i are tough too. i just wish i was doing something else.

f r i e n d

I have some suggestions for people who have friends who are critically ill. There is no perfect way to deal with this situation if you find yourself in one. Life is not perfect. What you can do is just be there. Be here. Ask your friend how he or she is doing. Don’t worry about people’s sleeping schedules. Call. Leave a message. Your friend will get back to you when possible. Check in with him or her. Let them know you care. Show it. Don’t be shy. Life is too short to be shy. Show it and we will see.

diagnosis – sharing the news

My parents reactions were the most surprising. As in their respective reactions. When they heard the news, they flew in from Taiwan. When they burst through my front door, my dad ran to me and gave me a kiss and a hug (which has never happened before) told me how much he loved me and that everything’s going to be okay, almost on his knees. The first thing that blurted out of my mom’s mouth were “where is karaoke machine” (she had it in my apartment when she used to live in NYC). I think they are dealing with it completely differently. My mom’s trying to fix things. “You should do qigong, it will help your cancer”. My dad’s become allot more spiritual. They both do worry in their own ways.

My sister and husband are the strongest of them all. We pretty much found out together so there’s no sharing. Since then, my sister’s found some of the best support groups, activities, etc. My husband’s been the rock. I don’t know how he does what he does. I think I would have a mental breakdown if I were in his shoes. I mean we got married last year for crying out loud. My aunts and uncles call me from time to time to pray together and that’s been wonderful because I’ve since been baptized. 

As for friends, I told two of my best friends through whatsapp (one’s in Canada, one in Cali). They both came to visit weeks later. I told a guy friend who texted me during the time I was in the hospital who told me to hang in there. I got an email from a friend who heard it from the guy friend wishing me well, who I have since never heard back from, even though I tried texting her. Oh wells. Told my ex-worker and she visits me with delicious Polish food from time to time now. I guess it’s safe to say they’ve all taken it pretty well? Didn’t ask. Nowadays, I feel like I’ve been pretty blessed with a very small group of friends in the City who comes to visit me every week since I’ve told them my diagnosis. I try to space them out so I get at least a couple each week. 

What’s been most helpful? Just being candid I guess. Yes I have this thing in my brain. They ask questions and I answer. I’ll answer anything. Or my husband can when I can’t remember. There’s not much to do about it except get better, which I feel and I know I am, with much help. And having faith.