More Art

I wanted to share the results of my terrific experience participating in Art for Cancer Foundation's trial 5 week workshop. The workshop was great on so many levels.  I learned new techniques and got to experiment.  The art is so engaging for me that I don't think about anything else, except creating art.  I met interesting people, perhaps it says something about the people who would seek out this kind of support during thier cancer journey.  One of the neat things is that we don't formally talk about cancer and since it isn't the focus, there is a break from the constant focus that being a cancer patient demands.  Likewise for those who are actively engaged in treatment, there is no explanation needed for all the side effects.  Everyone present has been engaged in a similar process on some level, so no explanation needed.

Here's my art from the 5 sessions:

untitled: pastels

Sunflower & Butterfly: ink, acrylic, gesso

Picked: tissue paper, napkin paper, fiber, acrylic, ink

Golden Hills: gesso texture, sand, acrylic and metallic glaze

the screening dilemma resolved: tissue paper, newspaper, gesso texture, acrylic, glaze

reflections on end of treatment

Here I am staring at a blank page wondering what to write.  Perhaps it is because I'm at what appears to be the end of my cancer journey. Ten days ago I had my last Herceptin treatment and this Friday I have the port removed. In the past month since my last entry (I can't believe how quickly time has passed by) I've been on a yoga retreat, submitted art to more shows, lots of the usual social outings, and the usual household and mommy stuff.  All pretty good and positive. However ending treatment is odd.  I'm definitely happy to not have to be showing up to and anticipating having the port removed makes me a bit giddy and long with the anticipation to just live my days without showing up to a hospital every few weeks or more frequently.  There also is apprehension: about what next? how will I adjust to returning to work? will I be able to retain my health?
The wisest words I've come across is just keep stepping one foot in front of the other. Really, now matter what happens, it is most important to be in the present moment and keep living life to its fullest.

Poem

I thought I would share a poem I wrote about a week or so ago.

Crossing the Finish Line

The super sticky
white
steristrips
are looking dog-earred
and grey
day by day
one falling off here
another there.

The last reminants
of the year long
cancer treatments
that ravaged
my body
and wearied
my brain.

Avenging the reckless
little tumor that
decided to try
and make a home
in my left breast.

In addition to the poem, I'll share what happened a few days ago when I did take the last of the steristrips off.  I took them off at night before bed.  The next morning my son came into my room and that was the first thing he notice: "Momma, you don't have any band-aids!  Momma, that means we can tussle" (play fight). I affirmed, this is true.  Then my son said, "Momma, we need to celebrate.  We need to make chocolate pancakes." So we did.