Life

Avian Antics in a Troubled World

Busty orange breasts take presence in the courtyard, wiry feet cling to a copper rim precariously balancing the full weight of each robin fat from a harvest of worms rising from the damp soil. Like birds on a see-saw, each one dips its amber beak into the copper vessel outside my morning window. White spotted orange and black towhees, hop about and scrape the soil in hunt of seed, a berry dropped by another bird in flight above; or an ant, or []

A Stormy Change

The world changes of 2019 are no better than in 1967. There are leaders without compassion, ethics or foundational morality.  Power and greed are the key words affiliated with a growing handful of leaders around the planet. Followers cheer these leaders on, while others cry foul. How does this happen? I suppose the answer lies somewhere within the same reasons for a 1967 power grab and the people who asked for nothing more than a warm home in the winter, a full pantry, and reasons to give gratitude each morning. 

A New Normal When Cancer Changes Everything

Yes, cancer changes everything. Things I did two years ago are not even possible now. Is this a worse-case scenario? Yes and no. Yes because I love to cook, hike, and explore the world around me. I can’t do that right now. No because I’ve an opportunity to learn new ways and new perspectives.

Oops! Back in Chemo Again

But by this June, the bad boy tumor grew back from its reduced 6 cm to 8 cm. In other words, my continued digestive discomfort was not from a stuck camera capsule. Actually, the CT scan showed that the capsule had left my system. 

The Nature of Santa Fe

Under a week into residing at the 8000 foot level, Oly and I moseyed about with our eyes and lenses wide open. Here’s what we captured yesterday, one day past the summer solstice.

War! My Battle with Uterine Carcinosarcoma

This was a call to war. And the war ignited into full regalia when my guardian angels pulled the plug on my body on Halloween 2018 while I was in a second-opinion consult with a Mayo Clinic gynecologic oncologist. As pale as white paper, and barely able to breath, and worse — unable to control myself, I hurled and splattered volumes of gastrointestinal debris all over her office.   Rushed to the ER, the final report read: severe anemia, hemorrhage gostrointestinal upper, malignant neoplasm of endocervix (HCC), and dyspnea — NOS (labored breathing).