Category Archives: women

The next start of the ongoing saga of the wounded Amazon

Nearly three years ago I was told that I had cancer, it was a fucking ridiculous experience and it was barely stage 1.  This planet does not do cancer well.

Anyway, I am a persona that brings in all senses to my experiences. The visual images that came to me as I was navigating that fucked up process were related to Norse mythology, and most specifically Huginn and Muninn, Odin’s crows.

odin2c_der_gc3b6ttervater
From here, in Portuguese

They were the guides for me during the process. Guides in that they became my eyes and ears, separate of my body, as I made choices and suffered through their consequences. and only in my thoughts and in my dreams.

I love crows and that whole lot of birds in the Corvus genus. I have one tattooed on my back (it is taken from my maternal family crest).

Their images were leaving me, slowly their image disappeared from my dreams. I missed them, but time was passing and I, as a full person, was healing.

Several weeks ago, before anything new was going down (and I will get to that in a moment), they appeared, perched on the shoulders of, what I then thought was, a Valkyrie.

I thought “hmmm” and continued on with life,

Then, shit started going down.  A routine mammogram resulted in suggested follow-up. Follow up resulted in suggested biopsy. Biopsy, a mean mother fucker, told me cancer.

again

My physician called me with the results. His first question being “where are you right now” as if that was not a clue that bad news was coming.

“Home” I reply.

“blah-blah-blah invasive carcinoma of the duct work blah-blah-blah” is all I recall from his end of the conversation… oh, except my response… which was “FUCK”.

I somehow hang up and call my oncologist and ask for an appointment.  I get one, I am told by a friend to get a second opinion, I get three. I am now one week later, waiting for my visit with Dr. Third Opinion and I really have no clue how I managed to get to here from that day.

However,  yesterday as I left my visit with Dr. First Opinion, I realized that my crows had appeared not on the shoulders of a Valkyrie, but on the shoulders of an Amazon warrior.  And, frankly, with the ways myths go they (Amazon’s and Valkyries) were probably based on the same group of bad ass women. Why do I think so, you may wonder? I have no clue, but it is my thoughts and it just felt right, but then it is probably some deep recollection about the rumor about them going around that they used to cut off one breast so that they could be better archers. Ha!

Some images of some bad ass Amazons through the centuries;

Source
Source

Source

Keep calm – 102/366

What is testing me?

Cancer.

It tests me all the fucking time. The expletive is needed, it is that severe.

I saw my oncologist today. All was good and my parts are working, but once cancer enters the picture… your confidence in your own health goes to shit.

Not all the time, but yes… all the time. New aches have moments that make you think “metastasis?”, old aches make you think “missed location for tumor”… every little things, brings it all there. And I know my odds… I have the same survival rate as someone who didn’t get a cancer diagnosis, that is how early we got it… but there was an it to be got.

I realized last week why I was feeling insanely mixed up (anxious)… this appointment was coming. It, I imagine, will continue like this. I hope that it becomes routine enough that I begin to find some stability in it, but it still makes me a little upset.

 

I am a rancher at heart, now I have brand to show for it! – 75.5/366

My house was built before Arizona was a state.  As such, it has seen so many things and as I go to bed each night I try not to worry about the leaky pipe or the wobbly porch with a hole in it and instead try to concentrate more on what stories it has to tell.

This past weekend the grandson of the second owner of our home stopped by for a visit.

He grew up in the house and shared some marvelous stories with me.

I learned that there is a cover-up and I was sworn to secrecy.

I learned that Wilford  Hayden would ride his old mule from the ranch about five miles north after dinner and sit on the porch chattin’ until well past midnight.

I learned that the brand the Stevenson family use (and did so when they lived in my home) was this:

can we pretend it is for 6 Squink or (last name redacted)? Also, my cousin has a brand that needs to be renewed

I learned that I need to crash the next meeting of the Scottsdale Old-Timers club!

swirly

Dat’s done get done. 8/365

 

What did I get done? The prompt asks that, as it stares at me, from the screen shot on my phone like a duck-faced selfie ready to be giggled at like a twelve-year-old boy.

This is a crazy question.

I woke up today. I woke up feeling like crap.
I thought about calling in sick, then realized I had to take my son to school and just how much is on my personal schedule today.  Decided to take it slow, son and I could be late.  I worked on a grant, watched/listened to The Great Gatsby (audio-book during my solo commute, movie while I worked on the grant).

My day is not over yet. I have a logic model to finish, an event to attend, a child to pick up, some night-time cough and cold medicine to take and a bed to get in to. I think I will manage to finish this up, and thankfully tomorrow is another day!

(from here)

Whats for dinner 7/365

It is supposed to be about what I had for dinner, but that has not happened yet today… but, I do know what I will be having.

This

From this site.

Though I call it cochinita pibil.

I also pickled some onions.

from this page.

I did not really follow either recipe. I made the pork in a crock pot, because I thought it would make the house  smell awesome.  It did! I also improvised an achiote paste – and yes, I keep achiote in my pantry. I also used a blood orange.  Because of the slow-cooker and the improvised achiote paste, the meat is not as orange-brown as is traditional, but it tastes wonderful!

(from here)

Making me mad 6/365

Today I am supposed to write about what is making me mad.

I used to love this magazine, the back page folding exercise was a favorite right next to Spy Vs Spy. 

Aside from nostalgia about the magazine, nothing much comes to mind. I am sure i get mad, but it is those fleeting surges that are really rather insignificant; like yesterday when I was standing at the top step of my porch when my mini great dane decides to jump on me and I almost fell back – but that isn’t anger it is really fear.

I drove to work this morning thinking about this… “what do I get mad about”.

  • One that has been pointed out to me is that I do not like being teased, especially if there can be any inference about my being stupid.
  • I hate people who make fun of others. I try really hard not to do this myself, not always successfully.

Other things upset me, but they do not quite make me mad.

 

 

(from here)

My favorite accessory 5/365

 

My favorite accessory is probably my extra earring. A small gold hoop on my left ear.

I have talked about it a few times before…. like here, here,  and here.

It seems so strange to talk about this earring on a day (day after, actually) that someone famous died.   And normally I think I would have let the fact that David Bowie died just slide past with a certain wistfulness. But not now.

The news says he died of cancer, that horrible fucking beast of a disease. He had been fighting it for 18 months.  Which fits the same schedule of my own “fight” with this beast.  18 months ago I cut a vacation short because my doctor called with the pathology reports. I don’t know what kind of cancer he had, but that is probably irrelevant. Cancer sucks, it just fucking sucks.  So here I sit, mired with some sense of something that is indescribable – a dash of survivors guilt, gratitude, thankfulness, sorrow – it is a crazy mix. It has its own sound track, his songs that seemed to play at those strange little milestones in one’s life,

One of the more interesting things to come across my social media feeds is a David Bowie reading list. A list of 100 books that he allegedly found to have some influence or importance. I have read 27 from that list, all of those would be on my list of 100 . Some I have no interest in reading, but in careful consideration I think it is more about the cultural milieu in which we found ourselves and I have my equivalence.

It’s a god-awful small affair
To the girl with the mousy hair
But her mummy is yelling “No”
And her daddy has told her to go
But her friend is nowhere to be seen
Now she walks
through her sunken dream
To the seat with the clearest view
And she’s hooked to the silver screen
But the film is a saddening bore
For she’s lived it
ten times or more
She could spit in the eyes of fools
As they ask her to focus on

It’s a god-awful small affair
To the girl with the mousy hair
But her mummy is yelling “No”
And her daddy has told her to go
But her friend is nowhere to be seen
Now she walks
through her sunken dream
To the seat with the clearest view
And she’s hooked to the silver screen
But the film is a saddening bore
For she’s lived it
ten times or more
She could spit in the eyes of fools
As they ask her to focus on

~ David Bowie – Life on Mars?

(from here)