Sunday, March 1, 2026

Inside the Radiation Chamber

 





Suzanne Strempek Shea, breast cancer

It’s in the quiet places that you can hear yourself breathe, places without time or expectations that hold you, where you feel the terror of cancer and find the resolve to live.

When Anne Pinkerton suggested I read Suzanne Shea’s book, Songs from a Lead-Lined Room, I thought it would be a short read because nothing much happened when I spent five weeks in the radiation chamber. You come in, lie down, try not to think about how much radiation is being beamed into your body, get radiated, and go home. Come back the next day, and do it again. Diagnosed at age 41 with breast cancer, Suzanne had surgery and radiation. I finally found a companion to my experience.

Sunday, February 22, 2026

Is Cancer a Journey, a Quest, Or and Adventure?


a beginning lexicon, part 1

I’ve called my experiences with cancer by a number of names, and different ones for each step from diagnosis through two kinds of radiation and a year of anti-hormone therapy as I encountered fear, trauma, and loneliness, to where I am now, in surveillance, with post-treatment uncertainty as to whether the cancer is gone. I continue to deal with a number of side-effects that stubbornly don’t want to fade away, and I’ve had to make adjustments in my life to accommodate them. In the coming weeks, I will see a urologist and a cancer dietician looking for solutions.

I’d love to hear how you describe your experiences with cancer, and I’ll post what I hear back. 

Sunday, February 15, 2026

Turning Cancer Into Art

 


Tony Hoagland, pancreatic cancer

Tony Hoagland died of Stage 4 pancreatic cancer on October 23, 2018. He knew he had the cancer for only two years because this kind is hard to diagnose before it becomes terminal. Pancreatic cancer is potentially curable if the cancer is caught early, is on the head of the pancreas, and it hasn’t spread, then it can be surgically removed, followed by a course of chemotherapy.

Sunday, February 8, 2026

Music, Cancer, and Creativity

 




Franz Liszt and grief

As we get older, more of our friends and family pass away. And while we expect this, it’s still a shock. Some die from cancer, some from old age or accidents. Too many die young, we think, before their time. Yet a life of attention and service to others is not diminished by the shortness of time, nor does the length of a life bestow any particular honor.

Not realizing how fragile life is, and how quickly death can come, we can be so unnerved by an unexpected death that we wake up every morning fearing that someone else we love has died. And every strange ache, every cough and tick of our body, can make us fear that something is seriously wrong with us and we’re next to go. 

Sunday, February 1, 2026

Continuing To Live While Dying


 In her book, The Bright Hour, Nina Riggs talks to us as a friend, keeping us up to date with what’s going on in her life and with her triple negative breast cancer. We don’t have to the building tension of wondering if she is going to survive or not because she lets us know in the prologue that she has eighteen to thirty-six months to live. This allows us to relax and be with her in her day-to-day life. She shares how she continues to live her life in between cancer treatments as she raises two young boys with her husband John. The writing is presented in snapshot moments. 

Sunday, January 25, 2026

After Writing About Cancer, Then What?

 


Cancer books and their authors.

If you know of other books written by people with cancer that you think are great, please drop me a note. I’ve noted below when I wrote about the following authors and the kind of cancer they had.

*

What do cancer patients who have written about their experiences write about after their cancer is gone? Many write one book on cancer and they’re done. 

Sunday, January 18, 2026

Not the End

 


This is not the end. Or even the beginning of the end. This is just the end of the beginning. - Paul Kalanithi

I have two cancer books next to each other on my reading stack — by Paul Kalanithi and Nina Riggs. More on this later.

Paul Kalanithi died in 2015 at age 37. He was diagnosed twenty-two months earlier with EGFR lung cancer. First line chemo worked for a time and he went into remission, resumed his work as a skilled brain surgeon, until the cancer began growing again and no treatment existed a decade ago that could stop it. There are options today because of ongoing cancer research.

Sunday, January 11, 2026

Broken Like Pottery


 When we have cancer, we want to return to something resembling a normal life. This desire motivates us to keep working on getting better. The treatments put stress on our bodies and minds. And after treatments are done, we may not be able to return to work right away because recovery takes time, especially from surgery, and health insurance doesn’t cover this. This creates additional financial stress, especially if we are at risk of losing our jobs or our homes. Health care should not bankrupt us.

Sunday, January 4, 2026

Never Give Up


 Sylvia McNair, breast cancer

At a benefit for breast cancer in East Peoria, world-famous Sylvia McNair sang music from Broadway and opera. Between songs she spoke of being diagnosed with aggressive Stage 3 breast cancer in 2006 and how crucial her community of close friends had been to her recovery. Her diagnosis came out of the blue because she had no family history of the disease, ate a healthy diet, was active, and her mammogram was clear six months before the diagnosis.

Friday, December 26, 2025

The Woods at Dusk

 


It’s dusk in late December and the woods are quiet. I stand on my backyard deck lost in the mystery of nature. Two squirrels chase each other through the snow and deepening shadows. I listen to the stiff maple trees creak in the breeze, and hear the soft click, click, click of empty sunflower shells landing on each other, dropped by wrens and finches at the feeder. The magenta of the sunset flows across the sky, then shifts to violet.