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.
Yes, sometimes normal can be GREAT. Hang in there for two more rounds. Must be working if they’re hitting those bad-boy cancer cells again, no? What day do you start?
How nice to hear you have been enjoying the summer. I love reading your blog, you are such a talented writer and photographer.
What a cute photo of you at the beach, big sister.
I’m glad Bastille Day is happening before you go back to chemo. Are there any bistros where you and Joan could celebrate the future downfall of that cancer trying to assert its autocratic will upon your personal republic?
I hope (J’espere) to see you and Joan in Paris next year. That may not be normal either, but sure would be fun.
bonne chance! (and off with those cancer cells’ heads!)
love from your petite sister,
K
That is a great photo of you!! I hope you and Diana had a great time at the beach! A different side of you this time, and an understandable reaction. Roller coasters can be challenging, at best. I’m glad you and Joan still find time to enjoy your life while meeting these treatments head-on. I’ll be thinking of you on Friday, that’s for sure…you’re in our thoughts and prayers.
I think we just got pulled into some Frankenfurter time warp!…it’s not 8:48am!…it’s 1:50am!!
We will be thinking about you tomorrow and hoping that your slumber, to follow, will be a short one. Best of luck and comfort.
Bonnie
Keep fighting, my wife was diagnosed with stage IV with a brain metastasis in July 2009 and she is still doing well though she has been through some serious trials. I too have written about them on Yahoo before they cancelled their blog site. If you’re interested you can check them out @ http://tinyurl.com/pat-s-journey Good luck and God bless
I just finished reading your article in the LA Times. I just want to wish you all the best of luck in your recovery program. Your blog was very inspirational. Laura
Joyce Croker I read your nice article about you in the Los Angeles Times (My Turn), Monday, 2011. I was detected with prostate cancer in March 2010 – Gleason score 3+3=6. I was advised by my urologist to undergo robotic surgery to remove the prostate. Instead, I joined a clinical trial at UCLA (active surveillance), where I was monitored without surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, or medication. On my part, I quit meat, milk, and dairy products. The results were amazing. My PSA blood test started declining from about 6.51 to 2.6 today. Going over my recent biopsy results of last month, my urologist said that I don’t have cancer. I asked what about the cancer I had in March 2010? He replied that for some reason it could not survive. But he said that there would be another biopsy the next year,and a couple of years later. But whatever the future holds, I believe that my road to recovery began the when I moved to a vegetarian diet consisting of whole grains, vegetables, fruits, and nuts – and when I avoided fast-food restaurants like plague.