Eagle & Gull

. . .
John and I took a ride around New London yesterday. Here are a couple of the pictures I took on (and from) City Pier.




The top is of course the Coast Guard Barque Eagle, and on the bottom, what some would call a lesser bird, the "Greater Blackback Gull". I happen to love gulls, so I was thrilled this guy let me get close enough to take this picture.

It was a happy day.

May
. . .

Portland Cranberry Bog, late August

New Poem

. . .
TREES
. . .
Sycamores impart
small, sparse shadows
to grass and fields.
Leaves claim a space
that is not simply
a change in hue
or the absence of something.
. . .
All things bloom, bear fruit, and die:
millenial yews, Methuselah,
the self-important
and the poor in spirit.
Death of the giant yew is slow;
there is no single moment when one says,
'tis finished.
A tall and ancient beech wrinkles
like a woman who has seen much,
who holds her gains and losses
in her lines and folds of skin.
I call it wisdom.
. . .
Sometimes you hear the gray birch
hiss and moan against the hurricane,
bows bent to earth;
sometimes you see the willow tree
fall quickly, at the first hint
of the passing eye.
. . .
For me, I hold no wisdom,
except a few good changes
in a weary world.
And I'd rather hear a dozen fighting trees
Than the clang of money changing hands,
--any day.
. . .

Oh, Ned, dahling...

. . .
From my PET/CTscan report: "No foci of abnormal FDG [the radioactive tracer] activity to indicate active malignancy".

My oldest brother, who is 17 years older than I am, left home shortly after I was born. One of the things I remember well about his visits home is that we would always do ouija. We never owned a board; we would arrange scrabble letters in a circle and each of us would put one or two fingers on an upside-down water glass, and wait, sometimes for quite a while, for it to move and spell something out.

One thing the board told me once was that I would marry someone named Ned. Nope...wait a minute...what do my breast cancer list friends call total remission? NED: No Evidence of Disease.

I married Ned!

May
. . .

. . .
A Moment at Sunset

Thistles

. . .

Quinnehtukqut River Photographs

The road goes ever on and on...

. . .

John and I took our cameras down along the Connecticut River last night, under the Arrigoni Bridge that joins Portland and Middletown. The two pictures above are probably the best of the lot I took of the bridge. I also have a couple of the river that I'll put up eventually.

So, you might gather from my casual beginning that the news concerning my scans was good. It was indeed, though I spoke to someone in Dr. Schauer's office and only got a message from him, and they didn't completely jibe; however, there's no doubt that I am responding to the Navelbine, which is great. It's very easy to tolerate; Ritalin takes care of most of my fatigue, and the only other problem is a bit of lower GI trouble that is pretty easy to manage. Anyway, I'm happy!

John bought a bathing suit today, which means the next time we're not otherwise engaged and the weather's good we can go to the beach. I can't wait!

May
. . .

. . .
April may be the cruelest month, but this July has definitely been the oddest.

Besides AT&T's line being busy and Brooks Pharmacy losing their decapitator (see Friday the 13th's post), I had some interesting experiences with the big cancer tests early this week.

Monday, I went to have a MUGA scan (fancy echocardiogram) and a brain MRI. With the MUGA, they just ask you to remove your bra and put your shirt back on. When I went to have the brain scan, the tech opened a little room for me, told me to take off everything and put on the cute little top and the cute little bottoms. I reminded him that I was having a brain scan. "New rule", he said.

Tuesday I had my PET/CT. I was practically insane by the time I got there, having endeavored for weeks to get someone to help me to get my blood sugar low enough that I could have the test (long technical explanation eliminated here). I succeeded, no thanks to the medical establishment. A nice lady greeted me at 8:45 a.m. at the hospital and brought me into a familiar room. She then asked me my date of birth, which is one of the things they often do to make sure they don't mix up patients. But when I said "11/14/51", she said, "Oh...and when was your last period?" By now I was sure either I or she was indeed insane. I burst out laughing and said, "Years". She looked at me and said, "There's a new rule".

This sounded familiar, but I still wasn't sure what was coming. Did they want me to take all my clothes off? No, the rule was that if you're a female, 55 and under, and it's been more than a month since you've had a period, they have to do a pregnancy test on you.

It was negative. Let's just hope the other tests are too. I hope to find out tomorrow.

May
. . .