Lichens and Rust.

Next Week

I am trying to remember my most current diagnosis date. It is nearly a year now. I know that
because this is very close to the surgery I had last April or May. I was feeling very tired and getting dizzy. The pain had increased under one arm and I found a swelling on my clavicle. I found a little series of lumps near my most recent masectomy scar. That feeling of dread was creeping back in. Familiar.

I went to see the oncology surgeon and she tossed me in the hospital the next day. Quick. Easy.
Beautiful scar. No concerns.

My surgeon called me back in on a day when people were sicker in the chairs.
I was completely unconcerned and had been packing for the summer season in Wells.

I went in for a follow up appointment and was little shocked to hear that the was a "small" area of cancer.
My surgeon was visibly shaken. We both expressed real sadness. She was sure I had beaten it! We had been at this together for 10 years.

I was booked back into the Cancer Clinic to see a new oncologist. I had cancer. Again or still. He was delightful and sent me for a new test. A PET Scan. Used in Europe and new to Vancouver. Just to get a clearer picture.

The picture was way too clear.

Cancer showed up all over. It had probably not stopped developing for 11 years. It was through my lymph nodes, all around the breast area, in my ribs with a little showing up in my spine and my lymph nodes, I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Breast Cancer that appeared to be very slow growing. All the chemo and radiation did not work. No more chemo would kill it at this point.

Crap.

I was offered a estrogen blocker that showed promise in slowing the growth of the disease.
I left for Wells. Eventually got the hormone blocker by injection. Once a month. Continued taking other hormone blocker by mouth.

I' telling you this because sometime in the next few weeks I will celebrate another year of survival. I am a bit weaker than a year ago, my breathing a little impaired and feeling a little more tired. Pain is more than manageable. I am moodier and sometimes a little nuts. More self centered. Less patient. More urgent sometimes. I am mostly happy and am thriving in my life. I decided to buy a new house on an island.

Last night I sat alone and looked at the sunset through the trees, watched the deer grazing, had a lovely dinner and a glass of wine. This is better than a birthday. 

In the next few weeks I see how this has gone. Clearly not dead yet!!!
  

Getting There

Husband Tim, me and son Bren getting ready to enter our Sweethaven for the first time
Easter weekend. Moving in Session 2 today and tomorrow. Session studio next weekend.
All done by ferry boat and a little help from my family and friends.

My Old Bedroom.

I am sure gonna miss my old bedroom. It is really a tiny cubby hole on an old covered in
back porch. The room is as wide as a double bed and twice as long. The door to the back deck is right in the centre of it.

I slept in my new bedroom on the big house on the hill for two nights and have come back to the little house to finish packing up. My new bedroom is in a turret surrounded by a big bay window. It overlooks the fields
of Sweethaven.

I will miss my cozy retreat.

But my new house is pretty amazing.

                                          Tiny bedroom in Vancouver.

Sweethaven from the back. My new bedroom is in the turret.

What I Did Today

This is what I did today with my darling friends Sharon Brown and Laurie Landry.
We went to the Havana on Commercial Drive in Vancouver and ate very nice things and drank too much wine.

Laurie, Sharon and I getting a little lunched.      Photograph Laurie Landry

I love the wall at the Havana with all the carved signatures. My name is in there somewhere.

Somehow I find a little inspiration there every single time. Conversation was about sensitivity in small art's organizations, the snow in Wells, the sun in Vancouver, how to set up studios for artists working at home and heartbreak and disappointment.  We also talked a lot about cheese.

New vs.Old: The W.I.P. Pile

Work in progress avalanche. Patricia Chauncey

Organizing W.I.P.'s



Having the equivalent of a room full of W.I.P.s is a problem when you have a Stage 4 cancer diagnosis and are on the edge of a big move. I am waiting to hear if I will be moving and that is most likely. I put a bid on an incredible property that is a Court sale. It is a huge house and it is surrounded by forests and meadows.
No details yet but the house and property will mean I can be surrounded by friends and family who will not have to sleep on the couch. It goes to Court next week. No other offers have come in.


This property is a dream Tim and I have been trying to accomplish all the years we have been together.

My life has a way of bringing me what and who I need.

Currently we live in a very small cottage (480 sq. ft.) in the middle of an inner city neighbourhood in Vancouver. We have lived here for 14 years. There was even a point where three of the children lived with us in this squeak of a house. This family have always been accomplished at folding up and fitting in tiny spaces.
Bren, Tim and I are all nearly 6 ft. tall and the others range from 6'3" to a slash under 6"6".

We are both shivering awake in the middle of the night with this apprehension and feel like runners waiting for the start pistol. READY, FIRE, AIM!! Tim is completely excited and hasn't wiped the smile off his face all month.  

So it may be premature but I am packing. And the W.I.P.'s are staring me square in the eye.

Melted wonders yet to hit the needles and scissors Patricia Chauncey photo

Hours of work but not yet complete. Patricia Chauncey photo

Don Slade

My friend and fellow artist Don Slade died on March 1st and I found out today. He was one of those talented souls who very quietly and with determination worked hard at making art. Humble despite a skilled eye and hand. Drawings so beautifully sensuous and with a knowledge of  human anatomy and spirit that comes with a mature hand that has experienced a full world.

He has been one of the members of Williams and Clark Studios since I arrived. There was always time for a little chat in our communal kitchen or lounge where we all retreat from singular work. His soft voice and gentle nature were sure to encourage and support. He provided an atmosphere of calm and didn't ever buy in to the drama that is inevitable in shared artistic work spaces.

His health has been challenging for awhile now and he very reluctantly decided to give up his studio a few months ago. Very sad for all of us there. I was walking down Commercial Drive to pick up my veggies and ran into him a few weeks ago.   He saw me while he was driving and turned his car around so he could have a little street visit with me. I hugged him and he hugged me and he told me he missed us all. He was wearing his distinctive big Aussie Drover's hat that kept off the rain.

I guess his last exhalation is shared now with Hugo Chavez and Stompin' Tom Conners who have also just died in the last day or two. I have a feeling Don would be very pleased by that!

There is a celebration for Don's life this Saturday at the Unitarian Church of Vancouver. I hope I am well enough to go.