
I have friends who lost their daughter the day she was born.
I have a great-aunt who turns 100 next month.
We arrive in this life not knowing the length or shape of our future … but sometimes we find out.
My lifespan is going to fall squarely in the middle. I was recently diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer. It has metastasized to my liver.
I’ve tried to write this blog post in my head several times, and it never sounds right. So please … forgive the blunt words. I was going to attempt eloquence, but I can’t find any.
I’ve been lucky for twenty years. I was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 27, and I didn’t expect to make it to 32. But I did, and once I passed that five-year mark … I started to think I was going to live. At age 34, I had my beautiful son. Two years ago, my dream of being a published author came true. And during these twenty years, my beloved has been by my side. We rode the marriage roller coaster together, sometimes laughing and sometimes screaming.
So lucky.
I’m not angry about the diagnosis. How can I feel angry when I had this gift of time? I’m not even afraid of dying. We all die, and I made my peace with that a long time ago.
I’m just sad. Why does my husband have to go through this again?
And devastated. I would step in front of my son to take a bullet for him. But now I feel like the one pulling the trigger.
I had lots of travel plans and writing plans. More trips to Europe … more visits to sunny beaches … more books to write. I get at least one email a day asking me why I ended The Mermaid’s Mirror the way I did. A sequel is first on my list of projects.
But overnight, illness has become my full-time job. I have a “PICC” line inserted in my vein which is used to deliver IV nutrition directly into my body. I’ve had challenges eating, and this way I’m getting nutrition while I try to eat and drink regular food. But it requires a lot of careful, sterile work – overnight, my husband has become a caretaker. There are visiting nurses, and calls from pharmacy techs and dietitians, and prescriptions to manage, and general overwhelmed-ness.
On the love side, if the sheer number of prayers, good wishes, love, hope, flowers, meals, gifts, and letters could create a miraculous recovery, I would be healed. I haven’t even been able to thank everyone properly yet.
On the medical side, I joined a study for an experimental drug (although I ended up in the control group, which gets standard treatment). I had my first chemo treatment yesterday. Feeling okay so far.
I knew this would be a tough road, but I didn’t expect some of the obstacles … I can barely walk anymore. Some weird, rare side effect of the illness has caused swelling and painful lesions on my feet and lower legs. We’re trying to get it under control with pain meds, but it’s a process. Just like The Little Mermaid, each step I take is like walking on knives. I had to arrive for my first treatment yesterday in a wheelchair.
My fingers are getting sore and swollen, too. Typing this entry has been not just a mental challenge, but a physical one. So please forgive me if I don’t respond to comments.
Well.
That’s it for now, friends.
Love,
Lisa

Comments
My prayers wend their way to you for strength during the treatment, peace during the pain and the comforting assurance of God's care. I pray for you and your family. It's a difficult time for all of you. And I pray for the miracle of healing.
Carol Garvin
All I can say is enjoy each moment. Hug the ones you love the most and tell them they matter to you. If you can write them some letters on paper with pen so they have them to hold on to in the future.
You are in my prayers...I know we don't know each other, but pancreatic problems seem to run in my family. ((hugs)))
Angela @ The Bookshelf Muse
I read about your illness on the 2009 Debutantes blog and will definitely be posting about your books tomorrow.
I know you've got plenty of people supporting you and praying for you. That's wonderful. Now you have one more ... for you, your family and all those who have cancer.
Be well.
God bless.
Second...my mom has been dealing with this for the past year...there is hope, don't give up...she's in remission now, we're praying, after 6 rounds of Chemo, pain meds, being unable to walk, talk or think straight...she's working hard at coming back to life now, it's a slow road...but you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers!
I hope you will feel better, and maybe have a chance to travel to one special place you've been holding in your heart.
Bless you.
Sandra Cormier
I write this to tell you about an amazing drug for cancer patients. I used it off-label, prior to the FDA making it "cancer patients only" due to its strength. It is called Actiq. It was a God-send during my worst times. It is for pain that breaks through the regular meds. Maybe something better is out there now, but I try to share this drug with those I know are hurting and could use it.
Make life the best you can. Enjoy every moment! Don't let the pain take that from you or your family.
My thoughts and prayers are with you.
Beth
May the Higher Power (whatever you call Him or Her) watch over you, now and always.
After reading your post, I feel like I know you. I've never read any of your books before, but I will now so I can get to know you better.
I'm praying for you and for your family. I don't know what to ask for on your behalf- strength, grace, everything and more- I;m not so wise that i know what it is that you will need on this difficult journey, so I'm just offering you up to God in prayer with all the love that your blunt words and courage in the face of this has inspired in me.
I recently read the Theology of the Body for Teens which is a text book version of Jaun Paul II's encyclical, and it taught me that love is willing the good of another person. Love is a choice, and I choose to love you and your family and to ask God to bless you all.
Love,
A Friend
It is a week since I first read this post. I hope they are able to better manage your pain.
Sending you love and light.
~XO
Laura
Edited at 2011-01-19 06:29 am (UTC)
Your courage and grace in the face of so much difficulty is an inspiration to all of us. I wish to the core of my heart and soul that I could offer you something more than just an enormous wish that a miracle can be found for you. If anyone deserves it, it's you. I can't imagine how difficult this is for your husband and son, and I wish them all the goodness in the world. I honestly don't know what else I can give you except as a fellow writer I'm glad I know of you and your work.
Much love,
Ilanna
~Rummanah
Frank Baron
Flash Burnout was so well done! I recommended it on my blog. Will go check out your Mermaid book, too.