Following the Fire

You should know that there is a reason for taking you back with me to the beginning -- the beginning at the end. Because it might be important, I am going all the way back there to remember and to share some of my story. I offer it in hopes that there are others out there who might be inspired to find their beginning too. Just remember that it really didn't end, it only seemed that it would. But I didn't know that at the time. They told me that the cancer appeared to be in my liver and that there is no way to treat it, only to make it less painful. That was in spring of 2004. I'd already known about the tumor in my colon; in response to the radiation, the liquid diet, the chemotherapy the tumor had shrunk. It was now operable, but the doctors were cautious about putting me through the surgery that was planned, because they saw a suspicious spot on the liver scan.

March 2, 2004

Panic -- want to run and hide, be protected. May be cancer in my liver. No hope if so. What a mess I've made of my life. No good. Help me -- please oh please. It is hard to be brave with all this grief and loss and fear and regret choking me. To miss seeing Aaron grow up, to miss my dog growing old with me, to miss my husband's touch, his words of love. How can I bear this? I have to for my family's sake. I have to be brave and loving. I told myself I'd live full tilt for the rest of my time. Trying to be a good person, to be worthy of the privilege that has filled my life. The privilege, the many blessings. It worked for a while this morning. Now I am a mess again. So many things I want to do. Pull myself together. I have to be together when I see my family this morning at the doctor appointment.

My surgeon was a common sense, go-for-it-guy. He was disgusted with all the caution, and insisted that the surgery proceed. He was also a gifted physician, and I came through the major operation very well. But in view of the belief that it had spread to my liver, it did not seem fair to all the people that looked to me for leadership at work, it was not fair to keep working. I was eligible for early retirement and took it. I might have a limited prognosis, but I was going to live every day to the absolute maximum. I was going to follow my call to create. Up to that point I'd taken art classes but not really created anything beyond the bare minimum to pass the course. Now it would be different. I was on fire to get on with my new life as an artist.

During the spring, summer and fall of 2004 I healed from the abuses my body had incurred during the fight. Cancer had raged through my system like a wildfire, burning me down to fighting weight, physically and mentally. I was rebuilding body and soul from the ashes. At times I felt so lonely, believing that there was a "hot spot" still smoldering inside my liver. Knowing that death was close made me different from the people eating beside me in restaurants, walking on the street, shopping or standing in line at the post office. I was separated from the hope of many tomorrows, and even when I could forget, there was a steady reminder in the chemotherapy and tests that claimed too much of my precious time. In response, I doubled down on creative activities, and spent quality time with my family. I journaled, painted, and walked beside the rivers. My sister Diana organized a prayer chain for me comprised of people around the world. I still feel the power of those prayers nearly ten years later.

The beginning was in the end. The beginning of my life as an artist, during the "end" of my life before. It was my leap of faith and desperation. It was not easy, and I did not know how it would all turn out. I am still becoming, having been through many wild fires, not just my own fight with cancer, but the loss of both my parents to this same disease, the loss of my marriage and the financial upheaval that it triggered. In September, 2004 after multiple scans and another six week round of chemotherapy, the doctor told me they were no longer worried that I had cancer in my liver. I had miraculously been reunited with the hope of living, and now, with the dream of becoming an artist, of making a life with joy and meaning. It has been a fantastic journey, and one that I long to share.

Next: "Following the Fire: A Promise is Made"