Posts

  • WHAT DOES AGE HAVE TO DO WITH IT?

    I made an ageist comment. It didn’t seem ageist at the time. I was sitting in the second row of a packed room at Flyleaf Bookstore in Chapel Hill as Pat Schneider finished reading from her new book, How The Light Gets In. I came to hear Pat for two reasons. One, I wanted to… Read more

  • WRITING RETREAT

    “Something looks back from the trees,/and knows me for who I am.” — American poet, Jane Hirshfield.  I spent five days at Wildacres in Little Switzerland, North Carolina at a writers’ retreat: The Powerful Narrative lead by Carol and Bill Henderson this past September. My good friend, Lois Roelofs, flew in from Chicago to join me. Without phones,… Read more

  • GETTING ON THE BUS Part 2 of 2

    During the first week, after I wrestled with the monitor to find a comfortable position in bed, I settled into sleep. My heart, booming loudly in my ears, jarred me awake. I pressed the record button and the monitor gave off a high-pitched sound and began taping. As instructed, I lay still. When the whining… Read more

  • GETTING ON THE BUS Part I of 2

    The first night in a hotel room in Estoril, Portugal, my heart, flipping about in my chest, jolted me awake. Thump. Thump. Thump. Silence. Then a rush of horses’ hooves clopped on my ribs. Trying to ignore my heart’s gymnastics, I tried to go back to sleep but the Mariachi band playing under my ribs… Read more

  • WHITE AMARYLLIS

    In my last post I wrote about the trauma surrounding my cancer diagnosis. In spite of mostly negative consequences of living as a “cancer survivor” there were a few positive occurrences. For example, meeting special people I would have never encountered under normal circumstances. A month after my mastectomy I joined a cancer support group… Read more

  • WHEN CANCER IS NOT CANCER

    I was standing in front of the light boxes hanging on the wall in the breast surgeon’s office staring at the mammogram films of my left breast. The surgeon pointed to lesions that resembled a galaxy of twinkling stars in my milk ducts. The Milky Way. A bad joke. “You’ll need a biopsy,” she said.… Read more