Favorite Things « Sprinting Towards 60

The right place

November 20, 2012

Joan and I drove our new RV down to Doheny State Beach for a quick getaway weekend. We took along the dogs, provisions and books to lounge with. The high points: watching dolphins playing just off shore as the sun slipped into the sea; Falling asleep to rain on the roof, waking to sound of waves and a gorgeous sunrise. Low point: Joan’s attempt to release rainwater from our awning resulting in an unwelcome cold bath. (I woke to sounds of a giant splash outside the door and howls.)

All in all, the perfect weekend spent in the right place with the right woman. Life is sweet!

1 Comment | Favorite Things, Joie de Vivre | Permalink
Posted by Joyce Croker

Summer Song

September 15, 2012

Summer was never my favorite season. When I was a child, I hated the hot, tense summers spent at home, longing to return to the less volatile school environment. This year the unexpected upturn in my health changed all that. This year, I loved, loved, loved all things summer.

Since day job deadlines didn’t allow me to take a real summer vacation, weekends have been filled to the max: barbecues with friends, beach trips with my ladies; capped off by the grand finale of a 2 1/2 day deep sea fishing trip over Labor Day weekend. The time with friends gave a safe place to enjoy ourselves being just ourselves, the fishing trip ended up being nourishing in all ways. Landing a 50lb blue fin tuna after a 40 minute fight was not only emotionally rewarding; it offered pounds of protein to share among my friends. And the gift kept on giving: when offered fresh yellowtail and tuna, our Nisei friend Ellen brought over nori and sushi rice, leaving us with platefuls of nigiri and maki. This too, to be shared with friends.

The whole summer felt like a huge, unexpected gift. Precious weekends were never wasted on worrying about things beyond our control. We were having too good of a time laughing with our friends, eating grilled goodies and lounging in the heat. What else is summer for?

4 Comments | Favorite Things, Joie de Vivre | Permalink
Posted by Joyce Croker

Gratitude List (the short version)

March 2, 2012

Things I am grateful for this fine, nearly-Spring, day:

My wife Joan, who has the loveliest, most generous spirit I’ve met so far.
My varied, wonderful and fascinating friends, who put life in perspective by sharing their own.
The difficult relationships in my life. It’s the sometimes-painful, day-to-day relationships which show us what we hold important in life, and what we need to fix within ourselves.
Music
Creativity, however it comes.
The ability to survive my mistakes…so far.
Living with Cancer. I’d have never chosen this, but it’s made me grow–and heal–in ways I never thought possible.

5 Comments | Favorite Things, Joie de Vivre | Permalink
Posted by Joyce Croker

Going for it: following the creative spark

January 8, 2012

2012 started off well. My wife and I spent New Years Day at Santa Anita Racetrack celebrating our 20th Anniversary with four of our favorite ladies. All are smart, vibrant, independent-minded women who live life with zest and intellect. It was a positive, sunny start to a new year. I felt I was sealing the deal by distributing black eyed peas and cornbread to the party goers at the end of the day.

Then Tuesday came and brought the first signs of the flu. My illnesses usually signal themselves by a feeling of helpless pessimism, along with the usual physical symptoms. I spent most of the past week in bed, too sick to hold a conversation with my wife beyond grunts. Instead, I slept; plagued by frightening dreams involving mutilation, murder and lots of blood, then flight from the law. The dreams were serial; another dismal chapter continuing each time I went back to sleep. When I was awake, my eyes hurt too much to read, I had no patience for television and thinking about work completely overwhelmed me. Finally, Joan dragged me to the doctor for chest X-rays (to ensure I didn’t have pneumonia) and antibiotics. They seem to be working. By this morning the feeling of doom, along with the awful headache and congestion, had passed; a sure sign I’m on the mend. Another sign is a return of my interest in creative pursuits. Creativity has always been my refuge and usually the healthiest aspect of my life.

I’ve been very lucky to have had a number of inspiring, creative mentors pass through my life. One of them, Leo Monahan, celebrated his 79th birthday yesterday. Leo is an artist known for his paper sculpture. A couple years out of school, I was lucky to work as his production manager. Leo is quick-witted, unpretentious and talented beyond belief. I used to watch him produce his sculptures without use of any mechanical guides, hand cutting and bending the paper to follow the vision he’d composed in his mind. There is a spontaneity to his work and persona that appealed to me, along with the solidity of old fashioned ethics. I learned from him: work hard at what you’re passionate about, don’t over think things, and, in all things creative: go for it.

Both of my parents were artistic, but my father probably encouraged me to adopt the “just go for it” attitude regarding creative work long before I met Leo. My father was a psychology major who went from running a small printing press out of college to becoming an art director by the time he was 30. Artistically, he was largely self-taught and was rather literal in his approach to painting and illustration. What he instilled in me was to try things; don’t TALK about doing; DO. No excuses, follow the creative vision wherever it leads! Mercurial in temperament, I believe he tried to maintain balance by focusing on learning and expressing himself creatively. Both parents encouraged writing and artwork from an early age; my sister and I were allowed to use pastels and watercolors when other children were only allowed to finger paint at school. As tumultuous and upsetting as home life could be, the high points involved the sharing of creative endeavors; reading poetry aloud after dinner, learning to create woodblock printed and silk screened Christmas cards from my father, attending Broadway musicals and concerts in San Francisco throughout my childhood.

So, I look forward to being creatively inspired by whatever comes next in 2012. Hopefully, my subconscious won’t be limited to expressing itself through horrible fever dreams. Perhaps some of the work will manage to be good; lots of it will probably be so-so. It’s the process of creating that seems to console, heal, and motivate me. Fanning and igniting that creative spark, then keeping that flame alive will be my theme for 2012.

4 Comments | Favorite Things, Joie de Vivre, You Turn Me On | Permalink
Posted by Joyce Croker

Shut up and dance!

November 19, 2011

The last month has been stressful, in my personal as well as professional life. The good news is that my mind has not been on cancer…or at least not MY cancer. The bad news is that most nights were spent tossing and turning and obsessing. Over what? Over real and anticipated encounters with people in my life, who, while very important to me, are often not the easiest to deal with. After about a solid week of insomnia, one becomes too exhausted to worry anymore. Leading to chronic punchiness and the usual fantasizing to cheer myself up.

On my long commutes to and from work this week, an old habit returned. When upset with seemingly insolvable relationships, I visualize a huge dance party, starring all my best friends and some of the folks whom I find most challenging. Mind you, I never imagine dancing with people I dislike. To want to touch you, I gotta like you. It’s those I hold great fondness for, but have a less than even keeled relationship with, whom I engage in my imaginary dance therapy.

This is what I propose: when business meetings get really tense, when you’ve just confronted your boss (or vise versa) with issues that arouse their inner porcupine, EVEN after a rough day waiting in line at the DMV; wouldn’t it be great if everyone could just find their places and break into dance? How easy is it to keep glaring at someone while leading them in a spirited cha cha? How irate can you stay with someone you’re twirling around your head in a mad Volta or holding in your eyes during a particularly close tango? By that point, your focus will be back to harmonizing with your now-partner and obeying the music. No more adversity; only music, rythym and heavy breathing of the sort one can do in public.

And, really, in this big dance hall we all seem to be milling about in, what else could be more important than that?

2 Comments | Coping, Favorite Things, Joie de Vivre | Permalink
Posted by Joyce Croker

Instant bliss: just add (salt) water…

August 21, 2011

On January 2 of most years, you’ll find me down at the nearest sporting goods store buying my annual California State Fishing License. This has been true since I ‘discovered’ saltwater fishing about 15 years ago, after my wife gifted me with saltwater fishing tackle one Christmas.

This year was the exception to the rule. In the midst of all the getting-used-to-having-cancer hubbub, I managed to forget all about fishing. Yesterday, my friend David treated me to a half-day trip on the Monte Carlo, a local ‘party boat’ out of San Pedro’s 22nd Street Landing.

We traveled up the coast a short distance and fished just off Palos Verdes. The morning cloud cover had lifted to reveal brilliant blue skies dotted with wisps of cirrus clouds. The breeze was faint, allowing us to fish in shirtsleeves while enjoying the sun (I’m a 70 spf gal, myself). Even the tide was helpful, sending our bait out to the kelp where calico bass, aka kelp bass, waited to pounce on our bait. Oh yeh, NOW I remember: I really, really love saltwater fishing!

When I fish, I don’t worry about work, lovers, friends, politics, global warming…or even whether I catch a fish. The fascination is in the ritual: choosing the right hook and sinker, putting the bait on the hook so it doesn’t fly off before it hits the water, casting so your line doesn’t tangle with another fisherman’s. Then…you pay attention. And wait. With live bait, you can tell when you’re about to get a bite when your bait starts swimming crazily through the water trying to escape the oncoming fish. The trick is in hesitating just long enough for the fish to bite the baited hook, then swing, set the hook, and reel the fish in. Usually you know what kind of fish you almost have by the quality of the bite; bass slam the bait, perch peck at it, halibut hold it in their mouths forever before a few heavy yanks tell you they’re hooked. Still, you don’t really know what’s hooked until you see color (the fish in the water beneath the boat). And you don’t actually have the fish until you’ve gotten it on deck. Watching it swim off your hook as it nears the boat doesn’t count as catching.

David and I both left the Monte Carlo as happy fisher-people, fresh-caught filets bagged securely for tonight’s dinner. We’ve agreed we’ll absolutely be doing this more often. I’m even planning a trip in September for six of my female friends, all novice saltwater fisherwomen.

Who knew that relaxation, camaraderie and fish for dinner were so easy to achieve in one afternoon? Just add salt water!

My friend David with fishy friends.

Mr. Squid; the only unhappy guy on the boat.

3 Comments | Coping, Favorite Things, Joie de Vivre | Tagged: fishing as therapy, Monte Carlo | Permalink
Posted by Joyce Croker

Back on deadline

July 23, 2011

For the adrenaline junkies among us, there’s nothing like a deadline to get us focused and back on schedule.

The news received Thursday morning brought me another “wake up and smell the coffee” moment, making me feel my personal deadline more intensely.

Joan and I met with Dr. Chang, my thoracic surgeon, to get his read of my last scans (CT and PET), what he thought the glowing meant (cancer or merely effects of radiation treatments), and whether they’d ever opt to operate.

The verdict: can’t really tell anything except there are no new spots of cancer. Cancer seems to be shrinking, but hard to see how much. Can’t presently tell whether the FDG (glowing Fludeoxyglucose) activity in lung obscured by radiation damage is cancer or merely pneumonitis. Even if cancer appeared dead on scans, making surgery an option, they’d only do if a biopsy proved the cancer ousted from lymph nodes. Downside: after radiation, lung tissue is damaged enough to impact healing. So, what would have been a six week recovery time, pre-radiation, would be longer and recovery dicey. Bottom line: would I want the surgery even if the situation were go? Hell, no!

We asked whether the second tumor (which had blocked airway to middle lobe) is really gone. Dr. Chang whipped out his ballpoint and drew us a diagram on the examining room table showing what he thinks happened: the blockage was probably from a lymph node adjacent to the bronchus, not within the lung. Radiation had either eliminated it completely, or shrunk it down so far that the airway is now wide open. Is the cancer still there in the lymph node? No way to tell without biopsy.

We left Dr. Chang’s office strangely relieved. We don’t really know exactly what’s going on in Joyce Croker’s right lung, but we have a better idea of what MIGHT be going on, and how to proceed. Plan of action: complete the chemo and prednisone treatments, wait a while for pneumonitis to subside, then another PET scan. Then…we’ll see.

Meanwhile, I’m taking full advantage of the elevated adrenaline levels the prednisone affords. Most mornings I’m up (way too early), zipping around getting stuff done like some hairless version of the Energizer Bunny. Those yawner tasks I’ve shoved into a closet for years are being ticked off my list, the house is becoming more organized, and I’m tackling issues at work (mostly people and personalities) I’ve long hidden from. Life, while more sharply felt, is sweet and available RIGHT NOW to be grabbed by great big handfuls. Just being able to breathe without pain makes my day. Even the mundane, the day to day, has become a comforting ritual. Is this all related to being hopped up on prednisone? Don’t think so, my friends. I believe I’m back on deadline.

And Joyce loves her deadlines.

4 Comments | Cancer, Coping, Favorite Things, Joie de Vivre | Tagged: bilobectomy, non-small cell lung cancer, prednisone | Permalink
Posted by Joyce Croker

A short stop in normalcy

July 10, 2011

Joyce Croker at Santa Monica Beach. Photo by Diana Lundin

Joyce in Santa Monica. Photo by Diana Lundin

Being normal was never high on my list of priorities. Normal was one of those adjectives I kept stored with banal, trite, average and the like. Like pastel colors, the concept of normal can be pleasant enough, but I’ve always gone for memorable over pleasant.
The life I was born into; caucasian, middle-class, protestant; was something I heartily rebelled against in my youth. I didn’t realize at the time how terribly normal that rebellion was for a gal like me. For religion I chose Wicca over Methodism, then developed eclectic tastes in music (from Ma Rainey to Mozart), literature (Didion to De Sade) and female companions. Never mind about the companions…just know they have ranged from the oddly sweet to the not-so-sweetly odd.
Despite all of that, I managed to turn into a happily married, middle-aged dweller of a middle-class neighborhood in Los Angeles. Except…I haven’t felt normal since last November, when I discovered I had lung cancer. Suddenly, the idea of feeling normal seems pretty darn special.
Due to (what seemed to be) endless medical appointments, tests and treatments from November through the end of May, that sense of normalcy hasn’t been part day-to-day life for me. The second week of June found me finally recovered from the last chemo treatment and feeling mighty…normal. My energy and appetite had mostly returned, my scalp was beginning to sprout new hair and it was back to backyard cookouts, hikes with friends, and enthusiastically executed yard work. For nearly a month I’ve been blissfully engaged in summer activities typical for people in this country. My wife and I even attended the Fourth of July Dodgers game…and were thrilled by the usual magnificent fireworks displays and exhuberant patriotic music. So, here I am, finally overjoyed to be that average, middle-aged woman having a little vacation in the land of normalcy.
The vacation is over. I’ll begin taking a high dose of prednisone daily for the radiation pneumonitis, then undergo the first of two more rounds of hair killing, energy destroying, chemo on Friday. Oh, well…we’re aiming to kill some more cancer cells; a slow process, but it’s working. By the end of August, with this batch of treatments behind me, I’ll return to my normal little life, which will await in all of its common, yet fleeting, splendor.

9 Comments | Cancer, Coping, Favorite Things, Joie de Vivre | Tagged: alopecia, chemotherapy, non-small cell lung cancer | Permalink
Posted by Joyce Croker

Not-so-gloomy Friday, after all

June 17, 2011

My oncologist called back yesterday regarding my PET scan results. Evidently, the effects of the radiation therapy are so pronounced it’s hard to see whether the tumor is gone, or just obscured by “infiltrate” (I believe that can mean scar tissue or areas of atelectasis; collapse of lung tissue). She’ll consult with a radiologist prior to meeting with me next Thursday and, hopefully, the news will be good.

It’s a rather gloomy Friday, and I’m struggling to not let the so-far ambiguous scan results, the events of an emotionally rough work week and the effects of insomnia keep me down. My wife alerted me that overnight drizzle had left gorgeous droplets on leaves and flowers in our yard. Once I got behind the lens, emotional gloom blurred into obscurity and another beautiful day leapt into focus. Here are some shots of those things we’re advised to stop and smell, even on the worst of days.