doctor, doctor, gimme da news ...

a long week behind us, and jane continues to mend. today she moves forward in her quest for more information, but hits a wall - there is no further news on her 'pathology' so we play a waiting game.

calls are made to set up appointments with oncologists, as we try to figure out (in a vacuum) what is the best way to move forward ... not so easy. friends stop by with home made challah for the onset of shabbat, while others pop in with a delicious lunch that we all enjoy on china with a glass of wine. flowers pour in, chocolates arrive in waves (including yummy pretzels!), lovely teas follow - all are appreciated along with good wishes for jane's continued speedy recovery.

she feels great and is healing incredibly - no one can believe she just had surgery last week - she has boundless energy and a positive, giddy attitude! we finally venture out after lunch, making our way to the two surgeons, laden with fresh baked chocolate chunk cookies and gifts to show our own gratitude. not only are the doctors knowledgeable, skilled, and encouraging, but their entire staff reflect their own warmth and professionalism.

high marks all around, the kids slowly make their way back home from art, friends, wrestling ... more packages and good wishes. we order dinner from a local persian restaurant - delicious and easy - courtesy of yet more dear friends. an evening call finds us on our way to yet out for post-dinner coffee and dessert in the area - with yet more friends! we are overwhelmed and buoyed by everyone's kindness and love! more critically, we feel connected and engaged (not isolated) ... so helpful, and fun -

no wonder jane is healing so quickly!

love to all and shabbat shalom -

lady of leisure

the amazing jane! she's turning into a REAL long island lady -

she's eating chocolate bon bons in bed ...
she's blowing out her hair ...
she's doing her nails ...
she's putting on newly purchased makeup ...
she's being chauffeur driven ...
she's bossing her husband around ...
she's lounging in satin slippers and robes ...
she's sporting new outfits daily ...
she's talking on the phone twenty-four seven ...
she's going out for lunch with the girls ...
she's strutting around with fake boobs ...

oh my, what has happened to jane?

the grinch ...

this morning, while scurrying to get ready (kids, exercising, house cleaning) in order to get jane to her post-op doctor's checkup, i faintly hear the sound of plates clanking ... "jane, you are NOT unloading the dishwasher, right?", i shout out. "no, just getting some stuff", she lies blatantly! when i come upstairs, beds are made. "jane, you did NOT make the beds, right?", i shout out. "no, the kids did them", she lies blatantly. now she must really think i'm crazy!

i seethe with anger. as predicted, she is a hard woman to keep down. i'm furious! she is supposed to be taking good care of herself. she's pushes herself, which is great, but at a certain point the ambition for healing turns into detrimental chore chasing.

we drive to the surgeon's office in silence ... despite her best efforts, i don't crack and maintain my cold shoulder. i drop her off while parking, and when i finally get up to the office, she's already in ... i am asked to wait, at jane's insistence, while she is examined - knowing that i tend to faint at the sight of blood, gore, and processed foods.

the wonderful physician appears, euphoric with the results - jane looks amazing, she's totally mobile, healing beautiful, and is drain-free (don't ask!). he informs me that he's given her orders to 'take it easy', but she can drive soon, and even exercise over the next week or two. jane comes out beaming, apologetic, but totally thrilled and on a high. a new threshold! i'm delighted for her ...

it's a gorgeous day, we return home for a big lunch, jane is in her sleek sporty outfit, feeling trim and 'light'. we pass the afternoon working, chatting, and listening to music. the kids come home, phones are ringing, and all is good. jane continues to wait for medical results, tests really, so we're not totally 'done', realizing that although the physical healing is going so well, there's still a ways to go.

we return to our wednesday routine of going out for family dinner - not to the city, the usual thing we do, for asian noodles or couscous, but to a local restaurant for an italian bite (not wanting to drive too far yet). the kids tease me relentlessly for 'using' jane's surgery as a way to jump lines, get better service, etc.. we have a rowdy time of it, and return home exhausted - everything catching up with us - and end the evening by watching 'the grinch who stole christmas' ... a real throwback!

silent night ...

mother goose

trimming flowers
taking showers
making the bed
massaging her head

i take time to workout
or else i would shout
i then eat my yogurt
and throw on a t-shirt

o, what's a caregiver to do
when the patient's so dear to you?

unwrapping each gift box
pairing her comfy socks
fluffing the pillow
see the sheet billow

keep track of the presents
roast a few pheasants
answer her calls
drive past the malls

o, what's a caregiver to do
when the patient's so dear to you?

toast her some bread
with cheese she's well fed
stay away from her stitches
and all other hitches

make her laugh at noon
even sing her a tune
fall apart around 4
she picks me up off the floor

o, what's a caregiver to do
when the patient's so dear to you?

fetch her some water
make the thermostat hotter
wait, she said colder
(i'm starting to smolder)

call her mother and father
it's really no bother
drop off her letter
i see she's much better

o, what's a caregiver to do
when the patient's so dear to you?

to target i take her
i'd never forsake her
she's really not taxing
just emailing (not faxing!)

get the slippers, her book
blowdried hair, a new look
reach for the glass,
she's no pain in the ---

o, what's a caregiver to do
when the patient's so dear to you?

i make her lie down
in her pj's, a clown
and with never a frown
in her silk dressing gown

she can't stomach my lattés,
and the same for rich patés,
paris won't be cool
if she gives up this gruel!

o, what's a caregiver to do
when the patient's so dear to you?

to the doctors we'll go
to put on a good show
they'll tell us what's new
and what she must do

the kids think she's fine
i'm happy she's mine
friends call night and day
my mom shrieks 'oy vay'

o, what's a caregiver to do
when the patient's so dear to you?

dear friends pop by
i whip up a pie
and with some creme fraiche
our relationships mesh

she thinks next week she'll work
i say don't be a jerk!
she says go to kigali
or i'll go to bali

o, what's a caregiver to do
when the patient's so dear to you?

with gilda she talks
on a video box
at first thought she was mad
'bout - the blog - now she's glad

and as it turns night
some chocolate i bite
and chug back some wine
and xanax, so fine!

o, what's a caregiver to do
when the patient's so dear to you?

and as for tomorrow
we won't have much sorrow
we'll soldier along
what else could go wrong?

another day passed
it's been such a blast!
there's so much discovery
on the road to recovery ...

hit me with your best shot

jane and i are considering shooting each other at the age of 50.

stents, cancers, colonoscopies, and the myriad of diseases (and tests thereof) that await us do not entice. so we are considering expiring, like old milk with yesterday's sell-by date, at the ripe old age of 50. it's all too much work ... high cholesterol, low self esteem, mid-life crisis; hypertension, hypoglycemia - too many ups and downs! how's a human to bear it all???

in the good ol' days, a decent bout of scurvy or plague would finish you off ... none of these antibiotic-resistant 'strains' to come back and haunt you. and if you were concerned about leaving your loved ones behind, there was no need for alarm, as rampant infestations generally took the whole village with them! a good thirty years of milking the cows, ploughing the wheat asunder, fetching water from the well, and then they'd find you - stiff as board, propped up in the field.

we're too fat. we're too thin. more protein. fat-free. lactose intolerant. carbs will kill 'ya. ugghhh. cat scans. mri scans. pet scans. pet dander. what's a human to do?

and even if you do make it past 50, something's always lurking around the corner. for example, take the case of the oldest living creature on the planet. recently, said mollusk, hitherto unnoticed by fish and fowl, lay dormant beneath the ocean floor. along came a scuba scientist, and recognizing it's unique lineage by the many rings generated on the shell, snatched the unsuspecting specimen and scurried back to the lab. where the unfortunate clam was expediently pried open to reveal it's actual age (an incredible 400 plus years!). and where the unlucky animal also immediately expired (as a result of being pried open to reveal that it was the oldest living creature on the planet). they just couldn't leave the poor guy alone (must have been a guy, for all the obvious reasons).

on the other hand, think of impoverished van gogh. paints a few multi-million dollar paintings and ends it all before reaping a single penny. hhhmmmmm.

on second thought, maybe we should stay along for the ride - whatever potholes it may hold in store ...

h

the unbearable lightness of being

a new week begins - kids at home after a hectic weekend (jared in canada, marlee at bff bat mitzvah, andi out on the town) and all return to school tomorrow following five days off ...

we too have had a 'busy' weekend, with many friends popping in to say hello and give jane a hug. it is so lovely staying connected - gives one a sense of normalcy.

we lumber on, enjoying the gorgeous day ... i even take jane for a drive, and we cruise along the highway looking at the past-peak foliage (no deep metaphor implied).

today it seems as if we are at a turning point. the dramatic surgery is over, we are 'digesting' cancer, and the patient is on the mend.

yet tonight we pass into the next phase. what happens now? what do we do to ensure that jane stays healthy? we are in limbo - past the point of the initial euphoria following successful surgery, but not armed with all of the information that will set us on the 'course' towards full recovery.

can we really ever do all that needs to be done to 'dodge the cancer bullet'? what will be necessary? redundant? damaging? lacking in vision? we will see this week, as reports come back, information is assessed, oncologists are interviewed, web sites perused.

today tells us that there's lots to be done, a path to be chosen, a big responsibility.

but for now, onward ho with the healing, the recuperation, the forced 'r & r' ... the order of the day ...

h

ode to the male reproductive organ

the female organs, so strange might one ask?
to be a woman - for certain a complicated task -
with breasts that once nourish and give milk and life
to turn on their owners and give them much strife!
their bipolar nature they surely can't mask ...

a bit further on, like a nautilus shell
the womanly organs, their secrets don't tell
they are twisting and turning
a bit stomach churning?
and can make a grown man scream and yell!

the mysteries of the female are something so deep
how inside their bodies with nary a peep
are energy forces that bring forth new babies
and toxic dimensions more deadly than rabies
like famous love canal the damage can seep

but look at the man, if you will and you must
he lacks both sex inards and a protruding bust
equipped with but one organ, not great like niagara
and when it's not working it is remedied with viagra!
the only negative feeling is continuous wanton lust ...

it's a thought to ponder.
it does make me wonder.
the curse. the purse.
a nurse. how terse!
of women however i could not be fonder!

xoxo

i had a farm, in africa

we have now transcended the pathetic and wretched, and entered the land of the ridiculously absurd!

jane is desirous of a shower, however her current state precludes her from doing this alone. i am enlisted to help, and i gladly offer my services.

when we built our home seven years ago, and created a lovely shower area, we forgot the grab bars!!! oy! together we jimmy ourselves into the sleekly tiled space, jane maneuvering into a large ikea plastic lounge chair (one of sixty purchased for jared and marlee's bbq last year) ...

she: covered in a plastic garbage bag, draped luxuriously about her shoulders like a dolce & gabbana runway specimen, towel sticking about beyond the makeshift neckline (courtesy of my nimble cutting with scissors).
me: jammed up against the backwall of the shower, grohe handle flooding me here and there.

she languishes in the warm liquid whilst i gently massage her scalp, running my suave-laden fingers through her tresses. followed by an herbal conditioner.

a fantastically hysterical sight, the two of us struggling and laughing until tears stream down our faces (funny tears!) ... jane comments that we are like robert redford and meryl streep in the movie out of africa, where he gently and sensuously washes her locks as they are surrounded by the savanna.

oh, but not quite so with us!!!

laughter has (barely) subsided, and our glamorous life continues!

xoxo

dutch treat

buoyed by plenty of sunshine (65 degrees), greetings of love, and being at home, jane enjoys a wonderful thanksgiving!!! despite her original pre-op protests (blogs, speaking to all impersonally via email during this 'crisis') she is ultimately extremely grateful to be able to stay in touch with everyone and garner strength from all of the love sent her way!

last year we were on a plane to amsterdam at this time, ready to pass three days in holland visiting museums, eating (too much!), biking with the kids, seeing our belgian friends, and soaking in some modern design. this year's holiday goes a bit differently ... but as we all know - the good sustains the less-than-good. reflecting back we're happy to have seized the day (or weekend!) in '06.

we are all amazed at how rapidly jane is recuperating - lattés in bed, reading, emailing, and nary a complaint. a little forced time off her feet is good for the body and soul, and she's being a semi-good patient. it's going to be difficult to keep her down for two weeks i can see ...

the kids threaten mutiny, finding her lack of mobility terribly inconvenient - it's really cutting into their slothiness!!! poor darlings ... we have them emptying dishwashers, making beds, folding laundry, fetching things for jane - oh, the misery they must feel (tee-hee!). jared and his friend fly up to ottawa to visit grandparents and camp friends (previously planned), and as their early morning flight was cancelled, i am gone a good part of the afternoon (shepherding them to the airport, more flight delays, etc.). they make it there finally ... and are glad to be out of the path of oncoming chores!

i have the pleasure of joining local friends for a real, traditional and fun thanksgiving dinner with marlee and andi - we enjoy a super time, toasting jane (happy to have a quiet house for a bit) and we return feeling full, thankful, and bearing a giant plate of dinner for jane, who enjoys it with relish.

wishing all a wonderful and great holiday - make the pilgrims proud!

jive turkey!

a thanksgiving message from jane is waiting for you!

click here to see jane live (sounds naughty, no?). happy holidays (we have a lot to be thankful for!)
xoxo, love the swedlers

she's home!

jane arrives safe and sound back at home - on her feet and feeling great - more to follow!

stay abreast of the situation

i have to get this off my chest -
(sorry for the off-color humor, it’s been a long day!)

jane is great, and has come through today’s surgery with flying colors! she’s resting comfortably in a private room, pressing the morphine button (wish i had one!) but not complaining too much - mostly she, her team, and i are most thankful that she has come out of the operation doing so beautifully. more critically, everyone is most happy with the containment of the breast cancer, and we are all hoping for the best! she is equally thrilled with the results, albeit a bit groggy ...

thanks to her medical team - such amazing and expedient treatment, all of you (our family) for your words of support, and the staff at winthrop university hospital! we’re feeling the love!

a long day passing quickly:
1. kids out of the house, somewhat non-plused by everything (great) and all set to sleep out at friends tonight
2. driving to the plastic surgeon, we feel like abraham and isaac - i take jane to sacrifice (and she is waiting for the administering angel of mercy to tell her ‘never mind’!)
3. my semi-fainting spell upon hearing the details of surgery in doctor’s office
4. the timely and efficient manner in which jane is tested, processed, injected with dye, etc.
5. moving through the basement (bowels of the hospital) giving us intense feeling of being in the movie coma with genevieve bujold - positively draconian!
6. the operation, just on time
7. depressing and gloomy meteorological situation, brightened with visits of wise clergy, ben’s hard-salami-sandwich bearing friends, and medical friends bearing updates ...
7. listening to maroon 5 on andi’s ipod while straining to read the new york times with reading glasses
8. wearing every amulet known to man - giant magen david, israeli knit cap with hebrew text, moroccan magen david ring, three jewish star bracelets from jaffa market, new silver and red kabbalah bracelet gifted last night to jane
9. finally, surgeon appears with good news - second surgeon then appears, and we’re done - yeah
10. seeing jane, with flat-ironed hair in recovery, looking great and so happy with the news!!
11. talking to the kids, they’re good, relieved ...

calls, texts, and good karma sent by all really helps - merci!

more tomorrow, thanks for checking in!!!

h

healing hands

this past summer, we relished the israeli beach scene with our dear friends from munich ...

ilana the painter photographed jane's hands (her muse, if you will) for inspiration of sorts ... out of that encounter came the above rendition ... which will be included in an upcoming show in a german gallery (close to the french border) ... both are works of art, NON???

thanks to all for lending us a helping hand - xoxo!

jeff koons, eat your heart out!

jeff koons' piece may have recently sent monetary records at auction, but that's nothing!

his heart of glass pales in comparison to the heartfelt and loving best wishes we continue to receive from all of you, for jane's good health and speedy recovery ...

we cannot adequately express to all of you, our family, how much we appreciate your positive and optimistic encouragement ... we will carry it with us tomorrow and in the days ahead.

so, sotheby's and christies, enjoy the cash, we've got the real deal!

h+j

haiku from sarah & arnie

dearest jane,

she is a great mother,

she cuts hair, cuts people and fixes people...

she cuts friends hair and irons her own hair...

she is there and everywhere-

she cooks and bakes, nails and pedicures

she puts on make up while harley is driving

she is a very devoted and loving person

she zips out of her mini cooper---?

jane most of all we love you

jane we wish you B.H. a successful operation

we are sure you will be taking part in that too

all our love

mom and dad

well, she can be a little crabby!

Sign of the Times

cancer is an astrological sign which originated from the constellation cancer, and is the fourth sign of the zodiac. cancer is classed as a negative or feminine, introverted sign; its element is water and its quality is cardinal. traditionally in astrology cancer is ruled by the moon. the opposite sign to cancer is capricorn. under the tropical zodiac, cancer is occupied by the sun from june 21 to july 21 and under the sidereal zodiac, it is currently from july 21 to august 9. the corresponding month in the babylonian calendar is arax du'uzu, dedicated to adar.

Characteristics

astrologers are in broad agreement that the following are the characteristics of cancer: the cancer person is protective, sensitive, tenacious, retentive, resourceful, self-contained, family and home oriented, maternal, security oriented, nurturing, warm, sympathetic, patriotic, sentimental, emotional, and loving. they can also be touchy, clinging, over-protective, moody and crabby. suitable occupations are where their shrewd but sensitive nature can be constructively employed, or in looking after others; such as nurses, gardeners, archaeologists, fashion and hairdressing, hoteliers, publicans, or estate agents. in medical astrology cancer governs the stomach and breasts.

Physical Appearance

physical characteristics associated with cancerians are below average height, a fleshy body, and short legs. the cancerian usually has brown hair, a round face, a pale complexion, a prominent forehead, small eyes,sometimes a short and upturned nose, and a full mouth. they sometimes walk clumsily.

that certainly explains a lot!

h

shabbat, shalom

a lazy saturday is passed at home ... jane doing paperwork, me lecturing the kids about being young adults, and how they need to pick up the slack, etc. (aka 'in one ear and out the other'). we have a mellow and relaxing breakfast - lattés, fresh fruit, baguette, fromages, confitures - and it's a gorgeous day to boot (although we never actually make it outside during daylight hours).

friends are calling with generous offers, and others stop by with touching gifts to make jane's life easier post-surgery ... things that i would never think of (a stylish cape and matching gloves; a fluffy robe with matching slippers and pj's; a comfy zip up sweatsuit). how amazing that our dear, close friends are both so kind and thoughtful, and can anticipate the aspects of this that we can not.

i send out my little email to keep everyone in the loop, and we are flooded with caring and sweet messages of support. although this is not jane's thing (it's mine of course, to be 'public') i know that jane is incredibly touched to have this extended family. we feel blessed to be rooted in this incredibly caring and loving community, and are lucky to be so engaged.

the kids hang out, jared is at wrestling practice for six (inexplicable) hours, finally emerging late afternoon with ilyssa and bob ... a round of clinking wine glasses at twilight, much needed, then we get the gang ready for evening. jane and i are uncharacteristically going out east for dinner, and are really in the mood for an evening out with close friends. we dine at kitchen a bistro, have a super yummy meal (thanks iris & hadas! you were SO right!), then return home, chauffeur driven (thanks j&r - your code name, for legal purposes ... haha).

back home, all are tired, kids have actually folded laundry (pinch me, i'm dreaming). thinking about sealing off the bathrooms and have everyone go across to starbucks for their sanitary needs (ultimately rejecting the idea, although may choose to implement it at a later date). we drift off knowing that café gitanes awaits bright and early with a dose of radio france internationale for the drive in...

h

goldfinger

if jane doesn't want to have five breasts by the time she's over with this ordeal, she better call her doctors by their right names.

this from a person who says 'keys-house'. it must be all those years in baghdad, coupled with the ddt spraying, that has lead her to call one of her physicians, dr. feingold, by a different name: doctor goldfein. he will definitely by inclined to give her an 'a' cup on one side and a 'double d' on the other if she doesn't cease and desist with this tongue-twisting. who ever heard of 'finger-gold'?

hmmm, today. cyclonic. spend the better part of the day in the city - a gorgeous day in fact ... downtown, brooklyn, very productive. but i forget to eat (don't chuckle!). so i pop into le pain quotidien early on, then mistakenly continue on my way sans kashi bar in pocket - bad idea! towards 2pm, i am seated in the back seat of our dear friends ro & mitchell's car, and suddenly lurch towards hypoglycemia - water, juice, power bar, nothing helps! by the time i get home, i'm slowing inching my way towards a massive coronary, or so it feels ... stress? lack of food? who knows. when jane arrives a few moments later, she looks like a crazed psychopath - and panics seeing me lie down (which i barely do at night to begin with) ... calls to the cardiologist, rounds of peanut butter on brioche toast (what can i say?), pulse checking (48), blood pressure cuffs, etc.. what a glamorous and sexy life we have! i slowly regain consciousness, and jane breaks the news to me - she's been smashed to smithereens by a ford bronco (oj?) at noon, which turns out to be a stolen vehicle. haha. very funny. no really. at least we have our health. oh, never mind!

that damned mini cooper has been repaired about ten times by now - it's worth more than a maybach! how insane. i console myself by baking two cakes, we somehow pull it together, and join our friends for a fantastic, tasty, warm and loving shabbat dinner - wine flowing, music blaring, kids jumping - a riotous affair which we are most thankful for! merci randi & elliot!

rochelle and jeff give jane a sweet gift which she opens at home. accoutrements for post-surgery - which really gets to jane ... she is so thankful for her friendships and for the love and support she is receiving. it truly makes a difference ...

the day ends, all of us exhausted. one year ago, we were preparing for a spontaneous weekend trip to amsterdam for thanksgiving - things are a bit different this year. c'est la vie.

h

talking to the kids ...

today jane and i are both a bit crazed - knowing that we are going to 'break it' to the kids this evening. we go about our daily business, me at home, semi-distracted, and jane at the hospital doing scans and tests - ugghhhh! but she's okay, hanging in there, moving forward. we speak sporadically, at once having absolutely nothing to say to each other, then not shutting up. we laugh hysterically about our own mortality, then recoil in horror! so insane.

friends and family who have gone through similar experiences are being tremendously helpful and insightful, and sustain us. we are being careful not to discuss it with any other people, not wanting the kids to hear it from anyone else (just what we need - a text message, or an alert on their much beloved facebook account). the day passes, i take the kids for pizza, marlee is on a high from the concert that she went to the night before at the garden, all is 'well'.

back at home, i wait for jane to pull up in the driveway - for consistency, i make our usual thursday evening soufflé and grilled asparagus, and pour the wine. when jane gets in, we sit the kids down - 30 minutes until ugly betty - and discuss the situation with them. as we sit them down, they are all convinced that jane is pregnant! "are you pregnant mom?", and "i can't believe it, mom's going to have a baby!", and they are laughing hysterically.

not quite, guys. we tell them. marlee is in shock, shock! jared is digesting. andi looks like a deer caught in the headlights. we talk about the surgery, how jane will look, their responsibilities, that she will be okay, that they know others who have 'gone through' this. their faces have not changed. digesting. in shock. seen a ghost. finally, we tell them it's okay to be scared or sad ... and andi BURSTS into tears, crying hysterically. we tell him that this was our reaction too, that it's okay - actually better than holding it in ...

in a few moments, they're back to the rangers game, ugly betty, the office, pilfering our soufflé. jane and i feel totally relieved - it is out in the open, no more phone calls from the bathroom, or whispering in bed. tomorrow we will solicit help for sleepovers on tuesday, car pools, etc. so we can focus on jane.

moving forward, day by day ... slow and steady.

h

the plan

today ends up much better than it started, which in no way implies that everything is okay. but there is a plan.

jane and i meet at johnny rockets in the mall - yes, pathetic but quick - and have a very fast salad. we are close to the surgeon's office, and we zip over there, hoping that we'll get seen quickly (we have the first appointment of the afternoon). we are characteristically early, and jane is armed with every test she's had, including first grade math (almost). she helps the front desk staff collate the paperwork, and the doctor is in the house.

he's a true gem, so pleasant and calming, and equally assuring. jane is wearing a pink paper wrap for the examination - very fetching - and is amazed that i haven't photographed her in this outfit for the blog! wish i had brought the camera - never thought of that. the surgeon examines her, and we sit with him in his office. he discusses how the double mastectomy procedure will go, the examination of the lymph nodes, recovery, and reconstruction. we feel absolutely confident in his abilities, and are so thankful for his demeanor. jane is an educated consumer, if you will, and the entire picture is fleshed out pretty quickly. the goal is for jane to be cancer free.

in the office, the arrangements are made: health care pre-approval, booking time for the operation (next tuesday), the ancillary tests that need to be done pre-op, and the plastic surgeon is enlisted. jane is told to immediately drive over to his office for a review, discussion, and examination, and i am sent back to fetch the kids and shepherd everyone on their way. jane and i part company, and we are both visibly relieved. there is a plan.

we adjourn at home later in the afternoon - jane is really pleased with the plastic surgeon's outlook and knowledge - it seems to be a great team. we are grateful that with everyone's cooperation and jane's insistence, we're able to 'get the ball rolling' so quickly! marlee is off to the city for a concert, andi is doing his art thing at home, jared is at wrestling. tonight we are too fractured to discuss this with the kids, but will do so tomorrow. before ugly betty and the office, but after soufflé and a glass of wine. a cancer sandwich i guess.

we scurry off to the high school for the much maligned parent-teacher conferences (i use the term loosely, organized chaos is more like it), then meet jeff and rochelle for a quick glass of wine - so sweet of them, and although we know how lucky we are to have good friends and caring family, it's never something that we take for granted.

tomorrow is more testing for jane, but as noted, we have a plan ...

h

tomorrow, tomorrow, i'll love 'ya, tomorrow!

it's all about tomorrow.

tomorrow, we see the surgeon - at 1pm. i know that jane is nervous, i'm equally anxious. i think that jane has convinced herself that she is riddled with cancer, so i keep insisting - slow and steady. we'll take whatever comes and we'll work with it - i'm certain we'll assemble a great, proactive team who will treat jane aggressively (hopefully she won't need that) and kindly, with technical expertise.

upon jane's insistence, i do not join her for her mri, mid-afternoon. rather, i man the fort at home - snacks, homework, etc.. she's back relatively early, looking drained but calmly resigned in a certain way. i tease her about the mri, which i've been subjected to many times - this iss 'her first'. nothing quite as bizarre as that - open, closed, standup, sitdown, who knows? it's all complete insanity, with clanging, utter claustrophobia, and a strange sense that you exist outside of your own body.

we laugh hysterically, recounting an npr story we heard last summer (while meandering up to canada in the car) about a woman who wrote a book on surviving cancer. she recounts how the mri was truly the most horrible part of the experience - how her impression was that she was on gilligan's island, listening to the professor and maryanne converse with the natives by tapping on coconuts - one of the many sounds comprising this lovely diagnostic test.

[they roll her into the machine, face down, boobs hanging through two holes - almost like a massage, she notes (in which depraved location do they massage this way?). i had warned her - take xanax (my cure-all for everything!).]

we have a quick coffee in the living room, rolling our eyes in disbelief at it all ... jared gets picked up, i prep some dinner, and fly the coop - i have a meeting. when i get back, it's 10:30, and everyone is in bed - quick goodnight kisses to all, jane seems more relaxed and not tethered to the computer, which is good.

it's all about tomorrow ...

h

monday, monday

a bit of laughter today, along with a dose of silent resignation, a slice of humble pie, and general feeling of keep on movin' on.

jane is back to work today - me too, although the kids are home for veteran's day. crepes, cocoa, cookies - young ones coming and going - and despite being hectic, a welcome distraction and kind of nice. jane speaks to the powers that be at work about logistics, all very supportive and helpful - and as breast cancer rears it's ugly head over and over, no longer shocking to hear the news. sad.

jane is eager to have the surgery right away - of course, we haven't actually BEEN to the surgeon yet, so it's conjecture right now, although all indicators are pointing in that direction. tomorrow is the mri - no metal - that's all we need, for someone to lose an eye during a diagnostic test! oy! i hope to join her at the office for that, although she professes not to need me. having had mri's before, i've try to inform her that it's horrible! being stuck in that tube - open, closed - ugghhh! i've suggested a tranquilizer (for me? her?), although she feigns a lack of claustrophobia (we'll see tomorrow!). her appointment with the surgeon is on wednesday, and we hope to NOT be waiting for hours to see the doctor.

we have not discussed this with the kids yet - we'll wait until we have more definitive answers, at which point i'm certain they will have absolutely NO reaction whatsoever (and will go back to their own bubbles!). fine. everyone else is the issue. well, not issue, really. we have no intention of 'hiding' this from anyone (as if that would be possible) and in order to keep everyone in the loop we will publish this blog. we can do a good bit of advocacy for the cause, and simultaneously keep those who want to check in informed about our progress. jane is horrified at this proposal, but relents when i point out that it will reduce phone tag during recuperation.

so, mint tea, a nice dinner, and an early evening ... everyone is back into the routine tomorrow. a good night's rest is what the doctor calls for -

h

uptown, downtown

jane is sleeping in. really sleeping in. 9:30 and she's not up yet. i ride the dreaded stationary bike to stave off any more heart incidents (angioplasty '03).

when i bring the coffee upstairs, jane is awake and typing on the laptop. "you have GOT to give it a rest until we go to the surgeon on wednesday", i profess. she's just checking her emails. she's frayed. now she's thinking about work, life, schedule, and the impact that her illness will have on time, money, the kids. slow and steady ... hmmm. how will we handle all of this? jane's work is our constant source of income (mine is more sporadic), and something that is a big part of her life (and her patients' lives). this is where our health insurance is, no small matter in this crazy country, so there is concern. upon jane's physician's recommendation, we have selected a surgical team which is 'in network' - we've heard that they're great, and practicing from jane's hospital i'm confident she'll get exemplary care. jane calls hadas, a close friend who also works at the facility and knows this group - glowing reviews, for both technical skill and bedside manner.

we'll need to see if the cancer has moved beyond the breast tissue, to the 'nodes' - whatever that may be (i have only a vague idea). i'm supporting her and not going crazy - yet - with online research, treatment options, prognosis, etc.. we'll just get through this week and see if we can schedule the operation in a timely manner, hopefully before thanksgiving so she can rest over the long weekend.

since i am the parent that has been working from home, shuffling the kids about, doing the laundry, the groceries, the cooking, we're covered on that front. what about the rest? it's funny, i've been talking about going back to work 'outside of the house' full time for the last few months - sort of 'plug back in' if you will, now that the kids are on semi auto pilot - and now i'm thinking that i may HAVE to do that sooner rather than later ... steady income, healthcare and other benefits, etc.. whatever it takes, no big deal. i can cobble something together - architecture, design, food, writing, art, travel, etc.. maybe start a bakery café?

we take advantage of the free the afternoon and spend it in the city ... marlee has a friend with her, and we pop in to visit our friends, have a pleasant lunch on the east side, then go downtown. we hook up with alan & becky, newlyweds, in union square to hand-deliver a wedding gift to them (a drawing by me). while looking at them, jane and i are both thinking the same thing: how couples travel down a road together. for better or worse. the ties that bind really do gird you together ... just a short time ago we were fresh-faced and wide-eyed, unscathed by life. despite it all, we both feel lucky, happy, even fortunate - jane keeps telling me it could be a lot worse. i think she's right.

an hour at the strand bookstore, then magnolia cupcakes (us on line, the kids in biography bookshop and juicy couture, running back just as it's our turn to invade) - vanilla cake, cupcakes, cookies, so good! not really comforting (what do they mean, comfort food?) but a yummy treat.

we settle into bed. jared is out, teenage land. marlee's having a sleepover at home, andi snuggles between us, and we have a glass of wine and watch rear window on the laptop. i'm asleep in five seconds, but jane and our youngest go on to see the whole movie - bravo jane!

looking for mrs. goodbar

not such a great start to the day.

it's saturday morning, and i'm expecting jane to sleep in. the sun is streaming into our bedroom, it's a gorgeous fall day, the kids are slumbering giants, and all is quiet. in the best of times, jane needs here sleep on the weekends - i'm usually up puttering, making crepes or muffins, then exercising, reading the sunday times (delivered on saturday), chillaxing as the kids say.

today i sleep until 7:30 - extremely late for me - and when i turn over, jane is up, on the computer, in bed beside me. she is furtively researching, scrolling, clicking, looking sternly at the screen. i'm afraid to ask what she's looking at, or what she's looking for. "what does it say", i query. "what did you find", i persist. "nothing", she answers blankly. hmmm. physician heal thyself may not be the best way to go here.

we make coffee and sip it out of our big, french 'bowls' and leaf through the paper. jane really is in disbelief. i am not. i suppose, being an eternal optimist and the one who is always full of hope (something great ALWAYS lies around the corner), it is odd that i concurrently am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop (it has! ouch!).

exercise follows - we need to be 'strong' - then the kids are up. andi does a school packet on the floor beside me while i ride the stationary bike and watch paula dean on the food network. jane is still doing research in bed. when we regroup in the kitchen, andi and marlee make delicious cinnamon scones under my direction - they make an ungodly mess and i have infinite (uncharacteristic) patience. slow and steady.

the kids eat, we hang out, lounge about, and even jared is up. jane's decided to clean up her closet - a mess - although not in a 'i have cancer and need to take control of my life since i have no control over my body' sort of way, just something she's been meaning to get to. we have an afternoon bar mitzvah to attend this evening, local on long island, as well as a 'sex party' (not quite sure about the details) to celebrate a friend's fortieth birthday (downtown manhattan). recognizing that the two are mutually exclusive scheduling wise, we jettison the concept of going to the city at midnight ... under the best of circumstances we're under the covers with a glass of wine by 10pm every night. it's only noon and we practically have to start getting ready!

marlee tries on all of jane's clothes and shoes, piled up nilly willy around our clean and spartan room. it remains a beautiful day. what's going to happen to this very uncomplicated life we lead? lots of weekend time with the kids, hanging out in nolita or at the south shore beaches? how will jane fare? it will be strange for her - to 'lose' her rather well-endowed breasts. and what about her hair - flat ironed, colored, flowing - will she need treatment beyond our own self-diagnosed surgery? [she always wanted smaller boobs ... not the best way to go about it, darling]. personally, i don't care about any of that ... that sounds wrong ... i care, of course, if jane cares, but that does not 'define' her in my eyes. i just want her to be well.

we get dressed, jane looks lovely in her silver heels and hoops, her long, clingy hervé leger style dress that she picked up at the designer market on bleecker street. we make a rather dashing couple for old, washed up souls that we are - me in my black velvet h&m jacket and my newly sprouted mustache (the bane of jane and the kids' existence). jared is going out, marlee and andi will be home, and we are off too.

as we dance later at the party following the religious service, we are handed sunglasses as party favors while boogying on the floor. we both put them on, and suddenly jane looks like a young diane keaton in some movie - i can't recall - and i really see that we are at this stage in life. jane has cancer, we're swinging at an affair, and we're middle aged. we are, in fact, all grown up, at another crossroad. she looks beautiful, and i'm feeling a bit randy looking at her.

day one

jane has cancer.

it's a funny thing, being a 'grown up'. particularly in our case. friends, many, who have been afflicted with cancer in just the past year. we're not that old - mid forties, all of us, yet there appears to be an epidemic of this disease, in it's many incarnations.

so, when jane comes home at noon today, typical for a friday, instead of having a latté, bathed in sunlight in the living room, she heads straight to our home office to pick up a fax (never get those anymore!). she trudges into the kitchen where i'm preparing shabbat dinner, and as i turn to ask her if she has the results back from her needle biopsy (earlier in the week), i see it on her face.

we sit on the naugahyde sofa, and there it is. "it's cancer". you often hear how those words define life - sort of the 'before' and 'after' - yet here we are, two adults sitting in the home we've built to live our life, raise our family, do our work. jane cries. i sigh. another blow ... another 'thing' to deal with ...

it seems as if we've been talking about cancer constantly for the last year or so. as noted, so many friends have heard these same words - not that there's any solace in numbers - but this is no longer strange or foreign. so now, cancer is here. is it real? of course. no time for self-pity or questioning - we already know that there's no rhyme or reason.

the benefit of having had tragedy in our lives - the loss of my sister ina, for example - is that it bursts the bubble - we're not invicible. we've witnessed really sad, bad moments. and we often note, with much eye-rolling and a dose of sarcasm, how crappy life can be. to be sure, you can only truly recognize that if you understand the flip side (how fantastic a latté in the sunlight can be). so, this is definitely crappy. scary. unwelcome. bad timing. but we'll deal with it.

i go back to prepping for dinner - guests are coming (jane will have no part of canceling the evening), and we move in silence. jane is on the computer, researching dcis low grade multi-focal breast cancer. i'm finishing off desserts and finally getting the lattés ready for us - we need to have those before the kids descend. jane has already spoken with her trusted doctor, and she's set up appointments for an mri early next week, and a surgeon too. within an hour, she has resolved to have a double mastectomy by this time next week. we drink our coffees, jane in utter shock, me much less so.

i'm not getting ahead of myself. although i'm not in jane's skin, i need to make sure we go slow and steady. no freaking out, no mass hysteria. we have nothing to hide, but until we see the surgeon on wednesday, not a word to the kids, our parents, friends (who we know will be infinitely helpful). slow and steady. jane researches on the computer all afternoon, i cook, the kids come home, and life is changed and back to normal at the same time. a single hour can rock your world.

jane is really nervous, even frantic ... it's plain to see. she's a smart woman though, and we'll get through this somehow.

we have a lovely time friday night, a relaxed and casual evening with friends - an oscar winning performance or are we really that jaded, or is it the wine? maybe a combination, but we manage to laugh, smile, eat, and enjoy. post-guest cleanup brings a bit of a drop in our levels - it's been a long day. more to follow.

h