If you want a guarantee, buy a toaster. Clint Eastwood
My biggest compliment in the hospital came from a cute younger Italian doctor. His name was Tony. "Mrs. Dapas," he said, "you are one tough chick - you know that?" I don't know what was happening when he said it or what had been going on that day, I just took in his comment with a smile and said, "Thank you," as clearly as I could.
Today I'm channeling my inner Clint Eastwood. I'm being as tough as I can. Yesterday, the doctors said that the one area above my larynx is still showing some small spots of cancer. They don't feel future surgery would be of any help. I can talk to oncology about possible chemo, but usually cancers that prove to be radio-resistant are also chemo-resistant. At any rate, chemo is not a cure for what I have. Chemo could possibly prolong my life by months to a year if tumors were to grow or spread to other parts of my body.
There is no time line for all this. No "months to live" chart on someone's office wall. Right now, in fact, there is no measurable amount of cancer that they can even see on a scan. They can only go by how fast it has grown in the past. It has been an aggressive form of cancer in past months, but still - the bottom line is, they don't know.
We all want guarantees, cures, reassurances, and freedom from ambiguity and doubt in our lives. Hell, I would love a guarantee that everything will work out. But over these past months, every different doctor until now has said, "What you have is highly curable. We'll cure it." I've heard that sentiment over and over from radiologists, ENTs and surgeons. And they didn't know jack shit about what I had. (Wouldn't jack shit be something Clint would say?)
Now it's another day. I'm not "curable" in their eyes, but I don't have much cancer in my body either. I have no guarantees. What I have in my favor is that I am tough. I'm sure I will cry huge tears from time to time and feel hopeless and afraid. I'll pull myself out of those depths again and again, though. I have so much support around me, from family and friends that it would be hard to stay down for long. And I've seen in a couple times of emergency that there is nothing like a shot of Jack Daniels down my feeding tube to change my outlook.
If you see me, it's just another day. I'm recovering from surgery, planning trips and taking pictures. I'm just tolerating more ambiguity than usual. I've had several Skype sessions with a therapist in Florida who does energy work. I'm getting a Vitamix blender so that I can make fresher combinations for my feeding tube.
The Vitamix will come with a guarantee.
Rich, Friday, Carly and Ian -- I love the flowers, thanks!
Lisa, you ARE one tough chick and I can testify to that from being with you over a very tough week. You are also one who carries beauty in your soul, as one of your neighbors so rightly said, and you continue to inspire us all with your ability to live gracefully under the toughest of situations. Clint Eastwood has NOTHING on you.
Posted by: Connie | 01/14/2011 at 05:25 PM
I've always had the hots for Clint Eastwood and I don't for you, Lisa. That's a good thing, right? ;)
Hey, I know LOTS about energy healers and I'd love to chat about who you are using. I could give you some other directions or possible insights too.
We ALL want guarantees and it seems only inanimate objects get them. What's wrong with THAT picture? But this I can tell you with all my heart, Lisa. I have learned a huge lesson from you. I have learned that the beauty that can be found in living is the same beauty that can be found in dying. They are, in fact, the same thing.
You go girl. You go until YOU decide you don't want to anymore. When you're 90.
Posted by: Cheryl Grant | 01/14/2011 at 06:10 PM
Lisa,
I'm sure you've probably read or watched the documentary "My Crazy Sexy Cancer." If you haven't, I hope you will.
As usual, I am purely amazed at the fact that *you* make *me* feel so positive with your words and pictures. It's quite a power that you have.
I am at a loss for words over them finding more cancer, but I am certainly not at a loss for hope or faith that you - of all the Clint Eastwoods out there - can beat this thing. Keep overpowering your body with health and your mind with joy and positive thoughts. None of us has many guarantees, but you do have the guarantee that you are so very loved, supported, and surrounded by friends.
God bless you my strong, beautiful friend,
Love,
Jenny
Posted by: Jenny Scott | 01/14/2011 at 06:36 PM
Lisa,
I sat next to (Boop) Bruce in this genius with
the poison office, and he said 1 year with chemo
and 1-3 years with stem cell transplant. Of course
by the way you must come up with $165,000. up front.
Bruce looked at me and I looked into his big
blue eyes and said transplant. We didn't have
the money but I was very determined.
It is now 7 years, he still has cancer throughout
his body in the blood of the bone marrow. He
golfs (walks the 18 holes - even with your dad and
Uncle Jim), walks 4 miles a day on the tread mill,
swims two laps and then a hot tub. What I am
getting at only God knows!
We are leaving to go back up to Loyola Medical
Center for testing in a hour or so. Then see
this 1-3 year genius on Thursday. We pray hard
everytime to say no cancer but we also know that
it is in God's hands.
We will pray for you - Bruce isn't even baptized
and has no religion but I feel God knows him as
a kind, caring person (even a little of Clint
Eastwood in him. We loved you from the moment
we met you and love your family.
Bruce, Gloria McConnell
Lisa Johnson
Posted by: Gloria McConnell | 01/15/2011 at 09:16 AM
Dear Lisa,
I have only recently been reading your blog thanks to Holly and Jane. I enjoyed sharing time with you at the Christmas get together. you looked great.
My 15 years working with oncology patients, giving chemotherapy, has taught me a valuable lesson, and that is " It aint over til the fat lady sings" [ and I haven't even started to warm up!]
There are some things that are just not a in our control. No amount of money can buy it, and no amount of wishing and hoping can change it. What I do know is that God is in control of each of our lives, and prayer does change things.
Thank you for your blog. You are a blessing and encouragement to all who know you.
Radiation, by the way, is the gift that keeps on giving. so although your sessions are over, hopefully, it will continue to have some effect.
Not sure what your days are like, but would like to stop over.
Thinking about, and praying for you and Mark.
Dana
Posted by: dana darnell | 01/15/2011 at 10:29 AM
Dear Lisa,
Your friend Dana said it so well when she said that God is in charge and prayer does change thing. Some time ago, a dear friend of mine called me when she was in the last stage of cancer. Her doctors said that there was nothing more they could do. I asked specifically what I could pray for. (She was far away, and that was the only thing that I could offer of myself.) Her response was, "A spiritual victory." Several weeks later, I called a friend and spiritual advisor in a sense, and asked if she felt it would be "wrong" of me to pray for a miracle of healing when my friend had been so specific. She encouraged me to pray my prayer of complete healing. Well, to this day, I believe that many other prayer warriors made the same decision. On the next visit to her doctor, my friend was told that she was free of cancer, and that they had never seem anything like it! They didn't know why a miracle had happened, but I do. So prayer it is.
My love to you and your family,
Sue
Posted by: Sue Ferrell | 01/15/2011 at 03:07 PM
Lisa,
Can we call you Clint now? Kind of like Lisa better, but agree with all the posts above. YOU ARE AMAZING! Believe me, as I told you before, I am following a number of people who are sick with stroke, leukemia, and heart failure. You are an inspiration to us all and are truly WAY cooler than Clint.
I love that you are seeing a healer and think that is perfect for you. In my past research about cancer, I have heard of two other things to try - COQ10 (a natural enzyme our bodies produce and is now bottled), and fevers. Here is an article of fevers: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1313773/Can-fever-cure-cancer-Jordan-baffled-doctors-leukaemia-vanished-new-evidence-suggests-remarkable-explanation-.html
You'll know when you are done. Its not yet! I really want to come by and see you. (HUGS!)
Rachel
Posted by: Rachel | 01/15/2011 at 03:11 PM
Lisa, I love that your best compliment from the doctor was "You are one tough chick." I got a similar compliment from my oncologist, and it 100% applies to you too. My mom made a quilt for me for my 1 year anniversary. She had friends, family, doctors, counselors, everybody who had been involved in my cancer saga write notes on quilt squares that she incorporated into the quilt (I'll send you a picture. It is quite cool!). Anyway... my oncologist wrote, "If it is true we learn more from adversity, then you have a PhD!" Somehow I think when a doctor who has seen every type of patient - the strong, the weak, the scared, the brave, the tough, the defeated - tells you you are a tough chick, you know they really mean it. So, I say to you too... you have definitely earned your PhD through adversity! Sucky way to earn it, huh? But now you can tell that smarty-pants sister of yours that you're catching up with her with letters after your name! :) Love you dearly... you keep on living your life, and we'll keep on supporting you and sending healthy energy your way.
Posted by: Ann | 01/16/2011 at 01:39 PM
Lisa, I am thinking you have it backwards - Clint Eastwood should be channeling you! Your strength leaves me in awe. Jo
Posted by: Joan | 01/16/2011 at 02:48 PM
Dear Lisa,
On a recent visit to The Art Institute, I was drawn again to Chagall's captivating three stained-glass windows. This time was an homage to you and "People are like stained-glass windows..." the Kubler Ross quote that your friend, Jennifer, wrote about which resonates so powerfully. I look forward to meeting you there one day when you come to Chicago. "In the arts, as in life, everything is possible provided it is based on love." -Marc Chagall
By the way, a shot of Jack Daniels now and then is a good thing (Breakfast of Champions!). I am all for it. You, awesome friend, were "A Champ" going in to Round One and we could not be more proud of your courageous spirit. We are always and forever in your corner. Love, ~Sandy
Posted by: Sandy Jelm | 01/17/2011 at 11:58 AM