Journal of a Living Lady #180

 

Nancy White Kelly

 

Some are asking why I am now writing bi-weekly instead of weekly. It isn't because I more ill. Recent blood transfusions have provided me with enough energy to function reasonably well for a few hours each day. Yet, I am keeping an eye on those mischievous little corpuscles of mine. They could start running down hill again at any time, especially since I am on chemotherapy indefinitely.

 

The Journal of a Living Lady was originally called Journal of a Dying Lady. Breast cancer had recurred to the lungs after a twelve year hiatus. None of my doctors were optimistic. Eighteen months at best.

 

This is my 180th journal. Never did I think that I would get beyond the 50th column, but here I am. Frankly, I have exhausted the subject. Previously I had written a computer column for the Sentinel.  Prior to that, during the Vietnam War, I wrote a conservative opinion column for the Herald.

 

Now, for over three years, you have gotten a long-running account of my living with cancer; living with Buddy; and hopefully a sometimes humorous take on everyday life

 

To be honest, these days I am in more pain which is causing my blood pressure to rival the Richter scale. Cancer that spreads to the bone is no picnic. After a while, even generous amounts of  liquid morphine does not dull the incessant draconian drilling into the marrow. I just live with it.

 

And live I will for as long as I can. Besides, there are still a couple of things I would like to do. One is to return to the familiar. Perhaps teach a course. The other is an outrageous wish: ride a porpoise. You know, the dolphins at Sea World.

 

My Buddy doesn't hear well these days. When I read the first draft of this column to him, he heard, "Reach a corpse. Hide a Porsche." I howled.

 

Friends tease me about my signature, boisterous laugh. No lady-like tee-hees for this living lady. You should have been around when I first read the following super blooper advertisement. It was for the Dahlberg Premium Miracle Ear, a hearing device. The ad said,  "No tubes, no wires. Simply slip it in your rear."

 

Was that a horse laugh?

 

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nancyk@alltel.net

This column appears bi-weekly except when it doesn't.