My Multifocal Life
My Cancer on Lockdown
For a long time, I’ve been living with cancer, lung cancer to be exact. This is in fact year 8. I had more or less
May 21, 2020
My Multifocal Life
“The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac”
I’m between scans again, or should I say still? The latest one left the oncologist and the pulmonologist frankly puzzled. Something new and strange had
August 12, 2019
My Multifocal Life
Anniversaries
December 31, 2018. The seventh anniversary of my cancer diagnosis. I’m as surprised still to be alive as I am to be relying on my spiffy, purple walking stick […]
January 3, 2019
My Multifocal Life
Last Encounter with the Robot
Since I’m not Pope Francis, what will it mean for me to live with 2/5ths of my lung capacity gone, thanks to my last encounter
May 27, 2018
My Multifocal Life
Scanxiety 2
Last year, around the time I created the “scanxiety” collage, one of my tumors started to change size, which led to surgery this past January.
January 7, 2018
My Multifocal Life
The Case of the Spiculated Tumor
Just as I was preparing to post this long delayed cartoon, I learned that my cancer was active again. I will no doubt have another
January 26, 2017
My Multifocal Life
Spiculation
After 6 months of “partial remission,” and almost five years of “progression-free survival,” I’ve learned just how partial “partial remission” can be. One of the
December 18, 2016
My Multifocal Life
The Scan Report
The oncologist does not mince words when delivering the scan report. Good news (“Good Pet”) or bad, it’s the facts minus emotion. December 2016 brought
December 14, 2016
My Multifocal Life
Scanxiety
“Scanxiety,” a coinage not of my making (I wish!) but that makes the point efficiently, is an attempt to represent the limbo I described in
July 28, 2016
My Multifocal Life
Partial Remission
After the last appointment (June 2016), my oncologist doubled the time between scans to once every six months from every three. Almost five years later,
June 30, 2016
Welcome. Some musings on my current preoccupations with the worlds of illness and the worlds of books, the vicissitudes of living with cancer and the need now, in my eighties, to imagine what new writing might be.