Inside out

Yesterday was like no other. I picked my friend Marc up at 10 am and we headed to Andover where we had a date with an old piano.

Built in 1907, it was beyond repair and its owners–friends of Marc–had invited him to salvage what he could for art materials. Marc knows I love taking things apart and so I got to ride shotgun.

In two hours, five of us got it down to the harp. We then loaded my car up with the dismembered pieces. Marc and I picked up some bagels on the way to his house (I had a french toast bagel–who knew?) but once there, we first toasted our endeavor with gin martinis.

As I departed, Marc gifted me with some brownies. Last night I had one just before retiring. And then I settled in for the show.

And a wild one it was. Something about being high facilitates memories for me. It is as if I am not merely recalling, but rather experiencing yet again. That fresh, that real.

It was a long time before I fell asleep, but along the way I had some sort of breakthrough. A traumatic memory from childhood and its relation to another equally unsettling event as an adult. Turns out the two events are corollary.

When I did finally sleep I was awakened because I had to pee. That, and the sound in my left lung. I am now experiencing not only a wheeze but also dyspnea. I know where this is heading and can’t say I like it.

Tomorrow I have scans, with a virtual consult on Wednesday with Dr. Lin and possibly Dr. Shaw.

Today I carted the parts of the piano (post mortem) to my studio. I also painted for several hours. My heartfelt response to what is going on in my body is that I don’t have time for this shit.

It’s a bloody shame that cancer has such an issue with boundaries. My big plans matter squat to those errant cells. Therefore, I simply have to operate under the assumption that once this therapy fails, there will be other options.

It takes a lot of faith but also fury. Some strange amalgam of acceptance but also hell no.

I cannot, will not go. Not yet.

3 responses to “Inside out

  1. I intend to be there with you as you create your incredible works whether they are from our salvaged piano or your wonderful paintings. Your Museum awaits! ❤️✊🏽

  2. Lynn,
    I have for many years continued to read everything you write. I am rooting for you because I have lived with one disease or another since childhood, MS for my invalid father and I and my wife Sheila are both cancer survivors (Sheila had ovarian cancer and I’ve had kidney cancer as well as a brain tumor). You inspire others to fight. I hesitantly (because I know how you feel about the subject) but I guess boldly also say that I have been praying for your healing. I am one more fan in your corner as you fight. Fight on!

    Sean McHugh

  3. I am sure that our ALK scientists will enable us to continue to jump from therapy to therapy.
    Even if sometimes I just want to pull the blanket over my head and hide from the cancer (great idea if the enemy is in your body…)
    Therefore: Please stay 💕

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