Ovarian Cancer

The size is 12cm. The doctor - a male doctor, of course- wanted me to wait for 6-12 months to have a second ultrasound.
All I wish is 1 year of regular menstrual cycle in a men's life: the cramps, the mood swing, the everything.
By the way, my therapist comment that the pain was lack of sexual life also proves that men needs to have that experience too.
Finally I got a referral to a woman gynecologist, hopping she would not blame me for that! #OvarianCancer #women 'sHealthy

Lifeaversary. May 24, 2023

Appears this morning in my CaringBridge Blog *Ovarian Dancer*

We lost Gilda Radner 34 years and four days ago. But I was NOW old when I realized that Gilda's Yahrzeit ("deathaversary") falls on the same English date as my own ovarian cancer surgery three years ago. I always identified with Gilda Radner. I just knew that if I could be as funny, as skinny, as cute and appealing as Gilda was, I'd be unstoppable. I'd attract all the relationships I could want. Or maybe the only one I'd need. Gilda even married my first true love - Gene Wilder. Wow. You go, girl. If I couldn't have Gene, Gilda was the perfect one to get him. Like Angelica Schuyler in Hamilton, who rejoiced at the pairing of her secret love Alexander with her beloved sister Eliza, I sighed a deep sigh... not a sigh of envy, but a sigh of deep satisfaction.

And then Gilda Radner got cancer. Ovarian cancer. The bad one. The cancer you definitely don't want to have. The cancer that took my aunt in 1986. This couldn't be ok. "Please, please, PLEASE, " I prayed: "Please G🎶d, please heal her. She's made it. She has everything a person wants in life. She's worked so hard and she makes the world so happy." This was years before seminary. I had no idea I was echoing Moses' prayer from the Torah, book of Numbers, chapter 12 verse 13. I knew Gilda had a fight ahead of her, and that the cure could be worse than the disease. Nonetheless, I prayed.

My prayers were in vain. Gilda Radner passed away May 20, 1989. Ovarian cancer 2, Jews 0. Little did I know cancer wasn't done with my family (yes, I considered Gilda Radner family even though I never met her. The BRaCA gene mutation wasn't yet in the public eye, much less did we know how prevalent the double helix runs through Ashkenazic Jewish families).

Before she died, Gilda Radner used her illness to give meaning to the lives of other cancer patients. She got together with fellow cancer warriors in solidarity, with food and conversation. Nobody whispered the word "cancer" nor avoided saying it. Instead, they laughed it out loud, with Gilda as their instigator.

When I first read about "Gilda's Club," I couldn't imagine, even with my irreverent funnybone, how laughter could possibly rise from the ashes - or barf bag - of chemotherapy. Then a laughable moment popped up in 2004 with my friend Renée Coleson, of blessed memory. I was staying at Renée's New York apartment; she happened to be in remission and was wearing a wig to cover her crew-cut-length regrowth post-chemotherapy. One day she asked me to please remove my hair from the shower drain. I spontaneously cracked, "How do you know it's mine??" We both cackled. I began to understand "Gilda's Club."

Today, my colostomy stoma is named Petunia 🌺 because I needed a cute, adorable name for something that's the total opposite of cute and adorable. My erstwhile Stage 2C ovarian tumor is Audrey 2 👺 🌵because she was huge; it took my surgical team more than five hours to machete through all her pernicious, fibrous human-eating roots, vines, and fangs and wrestle her out of me (see why I have Petunia 🌺?). It makes perfectly imperfect sense that the month and day of Gilda's earthly exit is the same day I began to be brought back to life. I'm well aware that Gilda and my aunt didn't have all the developments in treatment in the mid-1980s that I had in the early 2020s. But she had a wildly creative humor that put life in her years, if not more years in her life. That gift has branched out to richen the lives of other cancer warriors and their loved ones. I'm grateful it continues to strengthen me as well.

Thank you, Gilda. Rest in power and punchlines. 😢

A 7th grader from my church kylee took her life last week. I'm really upset about it because I am complaining about having ovarian cancer which is hard but God is giving me a chance at life that little girl didn't stand a chance. #Suicide #Depression #Cancer

This morning I woke up and brushed my hair and clumps of hair came onto my hairbrush. I have my second chemo treatment on Monday for ovarian cancer and the drug taxol is making me loose my hair. This is by far the hardest thing I have had to deal with since being diagnosed in March.

I started my #Recovery journey in 2014 and I found a new way of life immediately. No one warned me the NEW was NEW Chapters of Life, Chapters which would not finish before the next starts….
In 2014 I had to have a #lumpectomy from my right #breast .
In the beginning of 2015 I was served #Divorce papers. By the end of the year we reconciled.
In 2016 when I should be excited my eldest is graduating from High School, simultaneously my second born had to have #OpenHeartSurgery .
In 2017 second born lost his first grandmother and I got to fly him from CA to ME to see her take her last breath.
In 2019 I was the proud #homeowner with my #husband of 10 years. We were finally making the #americandream .
In April 2020 I get a phonecall my father has had a #brainstemstroke I had to come home to Maine to assist with #lifeendingchoices .
In May 2020 my Mother is diagnosed with #OvarianCancer .
I am now temporarily living with my mother, being a #Caregiver , yet my #husband #mycaregiver #Abandoned me and then requested to take #fullcustody of #ourdaughter via the #Divorce .
In July 2021 my Mother sadly passed away. I have become an #Orphan too quickly. #Grief and #Depression is all too real now.
In March 2022, My second son has now come down sick. Doctors spend months trying to figure out why. It takes until July 2022 to diagnose him with #Sepsis #Endocarditis he spends 2 weeks #hospitalized and another 8 weeks on a #PiccLine at home.
In Dec 2022 he is given a clean bill of health and decides to come live with me in #Maine .
In Feb 2023 he starts to become tired easily, slight cough, and finally passed out in March.
March 10th he passed out at home. We called #911 and the #localer #Misdiagnosed him.
March 13th I took him to #mainemedicalcenter where he was hospitalized for 7 days with #Pneumonia and possible #Endocarditis where he was then transferred to #boston .
March 19th upon arriving to #brighamwomanhospital - #shapirocardiovascularcenter he underwent dozens more blood testing, procedures, exams, etc.
Today March 27th he is having #OpenHeartSurgery Number 2 to replace the pulmonary valve, pulmonary conduit, remove large vegetation.
In a couple of days as scheduled I am also supposed to exchange visitation with my daughter so I can visit with her for Spring Vacation. However my ex is trying to knit pick about my schedule and if I have ample time to spend with our daughter while my adult son is in ICU. Our daughter is 11 years old.
I really feel in the last multiple years I have had one catastrophic event after another without time to process.
I have other things like major moves, loss of therapists, and other medical mental health issues. I am so exhausted today scared sick for my son.
I am so annoyed how some people enjoy kicking others while they are down.
I don’t even know when I am going to sleep again right now. I have so many thoughts, concerns, to do’s in my head - I can’t sleep it is going to drive me crazy.
I am so sick of being in a chapter book that doesn’t let the chapters end.