Tails of a 17th Street Geisha

I came home this morning after a night of amazing fun out in Columbia Heights. My sister Jennifer had called and I didn’t realize it because my cell phone was silenced. I called her back and she told me that she had an idea that we could ask for a miracle for my sister Susan’s cancer to disappear. She asked that I pray and get as many people to pray at 5pm PST today. If you have any way of sending positive vibes to my sister Susan Nichols, PLEASE send them TONIGHT, Saturday February 25th at 5pm PST/8pm EST!

I’m a recovering Catholic, but have my own spiritual way of "praying" and I agreed to participate in this vigil because I have no other way to contribute to my sister’s well being. I also think that many unified voices are stronger and more powerful, it’s like lobbying.

I hung up with Jennifer and entered my apartment, got a glass of milk, skimmed the paper and walked over to my computer.

I didn’t think that Jennifer’s call and urgency was prompted by anything new with Susan’s condition. Unfortunately, there was new info that I had yet to hear. I checked my email and received another message about Susan:

"As you all know we went to see Susans Dr. today. I’m not really sure how to say this, things were worse than we thought. The cancer has spread to just about every where. Lungs, back, liver, and possibly the brain (although the brain hasn’t been confirmed by test, this is what Dr. thinks based on some of Susans symptoms). Susan will be getting an MRI next week of pretty much everything, to get a better look. She will also be starting Chemo next week… As much as we are both praying for a miracle, we also realize how bad this is. Today the Dr. told us that Susan can not lift Jeremy or Harmony. Since the cancer has spread to the back, she can easily break her back and become paralyzed. Susan did not want to know a time line, but was told very short."

I had been training to keep positive or stay in denial and not make any assessments of the situation until I had concrete information, but now it’s official.

Susan must be so scared. She’s going to go through a lot of very intensive chemotherapy to attempt to save her life. She’s going to go through a lot of pain and suffering, fear and stress, and this may be her last experience and memory in life. I’m so sad for her and her family. She has a daughter and son who are very young.

The only advice I gave her early on, when she only thought her cancer was confined to her cervix was to smoke a lot of weed. Now I have NO idea what it’s going to take to make whatever life she has left less painful.

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 25th, 2006 at 8:07 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.