One of my six brothers just departed after a four day stay. Each family visit has its own flavor depending on the menu of participants and the recipes of current and past events that evoke the aroma of emotions long dormant.
If the Gallup organization were looking for a poll sample they would have no need to look further than our family for diversity of age and occupation. From the oldest (me) to the youngest covers a span of 16 years, a generation’s worth of viewpoints. So, when I want support, I call the siblings closest to my age in the family lineup. Their viewpoint is more likely to incline towards mine where wisdom is measured by the extent of life experience. They are less skeptical of an older sister’s dicta, since the divergence between their life experience and mine is smaller.
When I want to open windows and let in the fresh air of contemporary thinking, I consult with the younger end of the family. If I hear “Hey, dude, what’s up?” I know I have reached back far enough to connect with the entire spectrum of contemporary opinion.
We have an attorney, an editor, a teacher, a retired marketer (me), a computer genius, a retired clamdigger, a retired phlebotomist (now a professional grandmother), a mechanical whiz, and a retired quality control specialist and former Marine. And that is just siblings; the range of occupations becomes yet more diverse if you include spouses, children and grandchildren, cousins, nieces and nephews.
If it takes a village to raise a child (thank you, Hillary), then it required an entire suburb to raise the Chapmans.
Stay well!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: June 10, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Uncertainty
The final piece of April’s blood analysis has dropped into place with mixed results. CEA (CarcinoEmbryonic Antigen) monitors the creation of new cancer cells. A decline in the cell count indicates improvement in the body’s ability to curb cancer cell generation. April’s report is down 28% from January’s. Of nine consecutive measures since the beginning of my participation in the experimental drug study in August 2007, seven declined from the previous measure.
The second measure is the Calcitonin level, specific to the thyroid function. A decline indicates less cancerous activity than before. The April results are up 34% from January’s total, continuing an erratic up and down pattern: four of the last nine measures increased and five declined.
The two measures do not track each other. True, they measure different aspects of cancer activity. But I would feel far better if they marched, shoulder to shoulder, in the same direction (down!). I feel the disappointment a child might upon hearing disappointing news after months of effort to conform to a discipline believed beneficial but displaying snail-slow results: “I did everything you said, and it hasn’t turned out all right. At least not enough to calm my fears.”
The three doctors (two of whom are oncologists) who monitor my status vis-à-vis cancer don’t share my concern about erratic results. Far more significant, they say, is the overall improvement: reduced intensity of chemotherapy side effects, thicker hair, returning strength, reduced fatigue and nausea, and weight stability. Listen to your body, they say; trust what it tells you. I hesitate to trust my interpretation of where I am because I cannot measure or quantify the weighty bias of hope. My personal bête noir, the unrealistic, storybook ideal of perfection, lures me on while cunningly remaining just beyond grasp.
Stay well!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: June 4, 2009
The second measure is the Calcitonin level, specific to the thyroid function. A decline indicates less cancerous activity than before. The April results are up 34% from January’s total, continuing an erratic up and down pattern: four of the last nine measures increased and five declined.
The two measures do not track each other. True, they measure different aspects of cancer activity. But I would feel far better if they marched, shoulder to shoulder, in the same direction (down!). I feel the disappointment a child might upon hearing disappointing news after months of effort to conform to a discipline believed beneficial but displaying snail-slow results: “I did everything you said, and it hasn’t turned out all right. At least not enough to calm my fears.”
The three doctors (two of whom are oncologists) who monitor my status vis-à-vis cancer don’t share my concern about erratic results. Far more significant, they say, is the overall improvement: reduced intensity of chemotherapy side effects, thicker hair, returning strength, reduced fatigue and nausea, and weight stability. Listen to your body, they say; trust what it tells you. I hesitate to trust my interpretation of where I am because I cannot measure or quantify the weighty bias of hope. My personal bête noir, the unrealistic, storybook ideal of perfection, lures me on while cunningly remaining just beyond grasp.
Stay well!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: June 4, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Vacations
Vacations are for gaining perspective and adjusting assumptions. Michael and I have been out on the boat for almost three weeks. As ties to our home dock became more tenuous, fundamental perceptions gradually illuminated our awareness.
Our hometown: Its rural charm has been nibbled away and elbowed out by the seduction of convenience, expedience and fashion. Wal-Mart has come to town, challenging local merchants to upgrade their curb appeal and to keep an alert eye on current trends. The downtown area has been “quaintified,” with remodeled shoppes and special events (farmers’ markets, monthly walk-abouts, annual festivals) evolving from rural to suburban, less a geographic designation than a socio-cultural phenomenon. Expectations have ratcheted up so that “going to town” is more a mall experience of selecting from many options than, as formerly, determining what we will “settle for” among what is available locally.
The towns we visited reminded us why we chose this area for our retirement. The whip lash of deceleration, stepping aside from the constant sprint of a fully-packed retirement to the sauntering pace of a paradoxically recent earlier era was extreme.
For example, thinking we could post blogs from an Internet “hot spot,” we packed the computer and sailed away. The hot spots were inadequate to non-existent, isolating us from the world of the Internet. Many towns had no groceries or adequately stocked convenience stores within walking distance of the local wharf (although most boasted an ice cream emporium within steps of the dock). So until my health has stabilized we will sail closer to home and the comforting presence of practitioners familiar with my exotic medical requirements. Remote is okay as long as it is near home.
You are never far from our thoughts, no matter where we are. Stay well!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: May 29, 2009
Our hometown: Its rural charm has been nibbled away and elbowed out by the seduction of convenience, expedience and fashion. Wal-Mart has come to town, challenging local merchants to upgrade their curb appeal and to keep an alert eye on current trends. The downtown area has been “quaintified,” with remodeled shoppes and special events (farmers’ markets, monthly walk-abouts, annual festivals) evolving from rural to suburban, less a geographic designation than a socio-cultural phenomenon. Expectations have ratcheted up so that “going to town” is more a mall experience of selecting from many options than, as formerly, determining what we will “settle for” among what is available locally.
The towns we visited reminded us why we chose this area for our retirement. The whip lash of deceleration, stepping aside from the constant sprint of a fully-packed retirement to the sauntering pace of a paradoxically recent earlier era was extreme.
For example, thinking we could post blogs from an Internet “hot spot,” we packed the computer and sailed away. The hot spots were inadequate to non-existent, isolating us from the world of the Internet. Many towns had no groceries or adequately stocked convenience stores within walking distance of the local wharf (although most boasted an ice cream emporium within steps of the dock). So until my health has stabilized we will sail closer to home and the comforting presence of practitioners familiar with my exotic medical requirements. Remote is okay as long as it is near home.
You are never far from our thoughts, no matter where we are. Stay well!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Middle Ground
For years I have claimed to seek a “nice boring life,” relief from the intense engagement required for riding a torrent of experience. Well, here it is and this is what it looks like: The mental landscape around me is arid, an occasional tuft of brown grass ground to a nubbin by barely stirring air. Dry moguls relieve the sere sameness; they grope for the company of the next anomaly. I have a prairie dog view, eyes at ground level, eyebrows raised in barren hope of relief from the daily blah-dom.
I still have the option of hunkering down into the dim world of disengagement, or leaving the flavorless safety of the burrow behind and stepping out in search of new experiences. I finally have the stamina to take on a few non-cancer-related commitments, lifting some of the burden from Michael and giving me opportunity to catch up on a two year plus backlog of paperwork and projects.
By no means do I imply that the battle with cancer is won. We are at a new plateau, a resting place on the trail between avalanche and the bunny slope. The remainder of my life will be spent in watchful observance of my health and adherence to positive physical and mental disciplines. Cancer is well known to lash back after a period of quiescence. Here is where Michael and I look for your company. To know that we have such loyal, caring companions for this trip is comforting.
This is the most exciting period of boredom I’ve had in my life!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: May 7, 2009
I still have the option of hunkering down into the dim world of disengagement, or leaving the flavorless safety of the burrow behind and stepping out in search of new experiences. I finally have the stamina to take on a few non-cancer-related commitments, lifting some of the burden from Michael and giving me opportunity to catch up on a two year plus backlog of paperwork and projects.
By no means do I imply that the battle with cancer is won. We are at a new plateau, a resting place on the trail between avalanche and the bunny slope. The remainder of my life will be spent in watchful observance of my health and adherence to positive physical and mental disciplines. Cancer is well known to lash back after a period of quiescence. Here is where Michael and I look for your company. To know that we have such loyal, caring companions for this trip is comforting.
This is the most exciting period of boredom I’ve had in my life!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: May 7, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
A Regular Person
Recent changes in my condition at first glance looked like a return to the bad old days of new symptoms and weird side effects appearing unexpectedly.
I’ve come up lame along the right side of my neck causing acute pain when turning my head. Other pain has lodged in my right hip making any movement excruciating. At my chiropractor’s office last week I described my “symptoms.” The doctor immediately put his finger on it, literally, as an injured shoulder muscle and a strained gluteal muscle.
In a way these are side effects, but not of illness or chemotherapy. They are common to people who have “over trained” in their personal exercise routine. A light massage of the injured areas gave immediate relief; I was sent home with a stretchy band and instructions for its use to speed recovery. He also advised trimming my overly ambitious workout routine (six days alternating 90- and 30-minute workouts). The fact that any exercise enthusiast can have the same injuries encourages me. I feel like a “regular” person!
Another recent episode reinforces that feeling. At a social gathering, several of our friends (really!) teased me about my scrawny butt. I was aghast until I realized the humor and friendly intent of the jibe. Apparently others see me as strong enough to take a tease, and that’s a valid reflection of their assessment of my health.
Just recognizing that some of the aches, pains and vicissitudes I am experiencing are shared by others free of illness encourages me to wallow in the pleasure of feeling like a “regular” person. I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to feel that way and am hugely grateful to all of you who have supported us in this quest.
Stay well!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: April 30, 2009
I’ve come up lame along the right side of my neck causing acute pain when turning my head. Other pain has lodged in my right hip making any movement excruciating. At my chiropractor’s office last week I described my “symptoms.” The doctor immediately put his finger on it, literally, as an injured shoulder muscle and a strained gluteal muscle.
In a way these are side effects, but not of illness or chemotherapy. They are common to people who have “over trained” in their personal exercise routine. A light massage of the injured areas gave immediate relief; I was sent home with a stretchy band and instructions for its use to speed recovery. He also advised trimming my overly ambitious workout routine (six days alternating 90- and 30-minute workouts). The fact that any exercise enthusiast can have the same injuries encourages me. I feel like a “regular” person!
Another recent episode reinforces that feeling. At a social gathering, several of our friends (really!) teased me about my scrawny butt. I was aghast until I realized the humor and friendly intent of the jibe. Apparently others see me as strong enough to take a tease, and that’s a valid reflection of their assessment of my health.
Just recognizing that some of the aches, pains and vicissitudes I am experiencing are shared by others free of illness encourages me to wallow in the pleasure of feeling like a “regular” person. I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to feel that way and am hugely grateful to all of you who have supported us in this quest.
Stay well!
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: April 30, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Belly Laugh
It’s spontaneous. It’s strong, deep and satisfying. And it caught me off guard.
Now, I can’t even remember what plucked my sense of fancy. Some silliness crept up on me, enfolded me in a bear hug and liberated my sense of whimsy. Suddenly I found myself laughing with abandon, fully experiencing the physical and psychic tickle of mirth.
Reactions moved at lightning speed, piling one on top of the other. I threw my head back, creating a clear escape route for the bursts of laughter scrambling their way up my throat to freedom; closed my eyes, the better to shut out extraneous stimuli and focus singly on reacquainting myself with the pleasure of abandonment I had almost forgotten existed.
A sense of discovery illuminated the experience. The authenticity of my laughter rang out clearly, even to my own ears. Long-estranged sensations rushed in to settle into their corner of home, welcoming and embracing the moment and each other. The comfort of self-at-home instantly reasserted itself, polishing up psychic furnishings that had long faded from my awareness of now.
As my health improves, I am reminded by contrast with two years ago how very ill I was then: more ill than I realized at the time. So, too, as I laughed, I instantly recognized how long it has been since succumbing so completely to a thoroughly satisfying belly laugh.
Norman Cousins (Anatomy of an Illness) proved again: laughter is the best medicine; I’m looking forward to more “comedic therapy” treatments.
Stay well.
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted April 18, 2009
Now, I can’t even remember what plucked my sense of fancy. Some silliness crept up on me, enfolded me in a bear hug and liberated my sense of whimsy. Suddenly I found myself laughing with abandon, fully experiencing the physical and psychic tickle of mirth.
Reactions moved at lightning speed, piling one on top of the other. I threw my head back, creating a clear escape route for the bursts of laughter scrambling their way up my throat to freedom; closed my eyes, the better to shut out extraneous stimuli and focus singly on reacquainting myself with the pleasure of abandonment I had almost forgotten existed.
A sense of discovery illuminated the experience. The authenticity of my laughter rang out clearly, even to my own ears. Long-estranged sensations rushed in to settle into their corner of home, welcoming and embracing the moment and each other. The comfort of self-at-home instantly reasserted itself, polishing up psychic furnishings that had long faded from my awareness of now.
As my health improves, I am reminded by contrast with two years ago how very ill I was then: more ill than I realized at the time. So, too, as I laughed, I instantly recognized how long it has been since succumbing so completely to a thoroughly satisfying belly laugh.
Norman Cousins (Anatomy of an Illness) proved again: laughter is the best medicine; I’m looking forward to more “comedic therapy” treatments.
Stay well.
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted April 18, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Hello Again
Thank you for your phone calls and messages. Hearing your voices and news of your lives has been a great lift to my spirits during this self-styled sabbatical and throughout this journey of discovery.
JANUARY: The news from January’s trip to Charleston for the experimental drug clinical trial check-up continued holding steady with more or less equally balanced changes. Four tumors in my liver were scanned: the two smaller tumors showed some growth while two larger tumors actually shrank. This is the first conspicuous shrinkage we’ve had since I joined the trial a year and a half ago. Blood testing also turned up few variations from “normal range,” and those were close enough not to be a worry or require treatment. We’re building an impressive track record!
APRIL: The most recent trip, completed last week, is even better. From four radiology reports: “Essentially unchanged” (abdomen, liver); “without evidence of metastatic disease” (pelvis); “Stable…without new nodes or masses … thyroid unchanged” (neck); “no evidence of … abnormality. Unchanged … lymph node.” (chest).
As for the blood work, the CEA (carcinoembryonic antigen) is down 22% since the January analysis. This means that the cancer cells are creating fewer new cells than before. The results of the second (Calcitonin) markers will be available soon. I’ll pass them along when I have them. Other results from the blood testing are all Within Normal Range or close enough not to be a concern. Overall, a “no change” situation, the third consecutive check-up showing little or no changes.
Thank you for being with us so faithfully.
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: April 9, 2009
JANUARY: The news from January’s trip to Charleston for the experimental drug clinical trial check-up continued holding steady with more or less equally balanced changes. Four tumors in my liver were scanned: the two smaller tumors showed some growth while two larger tumors actually shrank. This is the first conspicuous shrinkage we’ve had since I joined the trial a year and a half ago. Blood testing also turned up few variations from “normal range,” and those were close enough not to be a worry or require treatment. We’re building an impressive track record!
APRIL: The most recent trip, completed last week, is even better. From four radiology reports: “Essentially unchanged” (abdomen, liver); “without evidence of metastatic disease” (pelvis); “Stable…without new nodes or masses … thyroid unchanged” (neck); “no evidence of … abnormality. Unchanged … lymph node.” (chest).
As for the blood work, the CEA (carcinoembryonic antigen) is down 22% since the January analysis. This means that the cancer cells are creating fewer new cells than before. The results of the second (Calcitonin) markers will be available soon. I’ll pass them along when I have them. Other results from the blood testing are all Within Normal Range or close enough not to be a concern. Overall, a “no change” situation, the third consecutive check-up showing little or no changes.
Thank you for being with us so faithfully.
Copyright 2009
Lynn Chapman-Adler
www.lindalater.blogspot.com
Posted: April 9, 2009
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