Brain cancer tops a stubbed toe

I was visiting my daughter and son-in-law recently. He mentioned he had taken the dog – a boxer named Hootch – to the dog park that morning, which explained why Hootch was sleeping instead of bumping me around.

I stumped my toe on a root at the dog park, Dan said.

I had brain surgery, Mary responded.

I’m never going to be able to top that, am I, he asked.

No, she said.

And they laughed.

I don’t even know the words to tell you how I felt. I guess “joy” is the closest I can come.

Mary was diagnosed with small cell lung in October 2005. She had chemo and radiation together.

Her hair fell out. When it began coming out in hand-fulls, she had me cut it short, so it did not look so bad on the shower floor.

She bought a wig in expectation of going bald, but never wore it. Wisps remained around her face and I guess as along as she could see some hair, she didn;t much care what everybody else saw.

Anyway, scans showed the lung cancer was gone, kaput, not there any more.

But another scan six months later found it outside thr lung, in a lymph node by her collarbone. More radiation and more chemo.

And plans for a different chemo to try to “get it” everywhere, to start in three weeks.

Only she had a headache before then. And a slowness to respond. And another spot in her brain.

Thus the brain surgery, which she went through with flying colors – and no apparent loss of anything.

But all her doctors said she needed to radiate her brain. So that’s what’s going on now. The third time for chemo must wait til this is over – the body can take only so much poison at one time.

In the meantime, they laugh with each other. A lot. I think Dan works at finding things to laugh about, including stubbed toes.

I don’t mean they never worry, or cry. I suspect they do. They are real people after all.

But they do laugh and they do it a lot. And they take each day as I comes. And I feel joy when I am with them.




I was visiting my daughter and son-in-law recently. He mentioned he had taken the dog – a boxer named Hootch – to the dog park that morning, which explained why Hootch was sleeping instead of bumping me around.

I stumped my toe on a root at the dog park, Dan said.

I had brain surgery, Mary responded.

I’m never going to be able to top that, am I, he asked.

No, she said.

And they laughed.

I don’t even know the words to tell you how I felt. I guess “joy” is the closest I can come.

Mary was diagnosed with small cell lung in October 2005. She had chemo and radiation together.

Her hair fell out. When it began coming out in hand-fulls, she had me cut it short, so it did not look so bad on the shower floor.

She bought a wig in expectation of going bald, but never wore it. Wisps remained around her face and I guess as along as she could see some hair, she didn;t much care what everybody else saw.

Anyway, scans showed the lung cancer was gone, kaput, not there any more.

But another scan six months later found it outside thr lung, in a lymph node by her collarbone. More radiation and more chemo.

And plans for a different chemo to try to “get it” everywhere, to start in three weeks.

Only she had a headache before then. And a slowness to respond. And another spot in her brain.

Thus the brain surgery, which she went through with flying colors – and no apparent loss of anything.

But all her doctors said she needed to radiate her brain. So that’s what’s going on now. The third time for chemo must wait til this is over – the body can take only so much poison at one time.

In the meantime, they laugh with each other. A lot. I think Dan works at finding things to laugh about, including stubbed toes.

I don’t mean they never worry, or cry. I suspect they do. They are real people after all.

But they do laugh and they do it a lot. And they take each day as I comes. And I feel joy when I am with them.