Nancy and the chimney swifts in Baltimore

Dear friends and family,

The film clip above shows chimney swifts funneling into a chimney that they are using as a communal roost as they pass through Baltimore on their migration southward to the Amazonian basin, where they will spend the winter. The clip was made by a new friend of mine, and I was in the group of people watching the event. I have watched similar events for several evenings. These birds are a source of delight to me. Hope you enjoy the show, too!

Now I want to share some of my other news with you so that you will be up-to-date. Then maybe you will catch me up on your news also! And let me know if the film clip got through to you.

Baltimore Benchmarks, 2008:
February: I had my third, and hopefully last, brain surgery, at Johns Hopkins Hospital. Everything went well, except that the meals were always late. In a couple days, I was back home, with my son Andy, my daughter-in-law Lu, and my granddaughters. We live together in a beautiful house in a beautiful neighborhood, with great neighbors, a wooded park, and a stream, all of which give me a great deal of pleasure.

March: I made several new friends, so now I am feeling more at home here. One of my new friends also became my caregiver.

April: I had radiation and chemo almost daily during this month. I was an outpatient, so the food was better. I made some dear friends in the radiation waiting room and among the staff. The experience was surprisingly enriching.

May: I finished my regimen of daily chemo and radiation part way through this month. In honor of my "graduation" from the program, I hit the gong with a mighty wallop, as all graduates are privileged to do. It was a very liberating feeling, and many of my fellow irradiated ones cheered for me as I did it. Later that month, my son Rod and his wonderful family came to Baltimore for a visit. It was delightful to have two of my sons, both of my daughters-in-law, and all five of my grandchildren in the same house. It was a very happy time.

June: My doctors decided that I was well enough to undergo the long-postponed surgery for the removal of my large ovarian cyst. For those who are not medically inclined, the ovarian cyst was one problem that was not located all in my head like my other surgeries..

July: This is the month when I began a 6-month schedule of chemo, to be taken 5 days out of every month. The main result of the chemo appears to be a great deal of fatigue. But, the chemo keeps my doctors happy. One of them called me "the rock star," and another said I am "a poster person for this cancer." They are very happy with the results of my frequent blood tests and MRIs.

This month also brought a great, though not unexpected, sadness to me and my family. My dear mother, with whom I had been in almost daily contact, died in Oregon on July 13th, after a long illness. I was comforted by the knowledge that my sister Eileen had given her loving care and attention right until her death. My brother-in-law Ron came to Baltimore soon after and brought me some precious mementos of my mother.

August: Andy represented me at my mother's memorial service. I had written a commemoration of my mother's very full life, but I was still sad about being unable to travel to the service myself. I still deeply miss our daily phone calls, and often find myself reaching for the phone to call her.

August brought some happiness, too, when my son David, who now lives in China, arrived and spent 3 weeks with us. During this time, David, Andy and his family, and I spent a week on a cruise to Nova Scotia and New Brunswick.

September: This month brought a lot of new challenges and a new sorrow. My granddaughters, who are 7 and 9, started at a new elementary school. Andy began the school year as a new principal. And sadly, Lu's father died after a long struggle with cancer. On a brighter note, we all enjoyed visiting my nephew Paul and his family at his home in Columbia, MD.

October: I am seeing a lot of Nature's beauty, particularly as the autumn bird migrations are taking place around me. I haven't seen any migrating elk around here yet, but I am still looking. This Saturday, I plan to take a ride on a stern-wheeler paddleboat ferry across the Susquehanna River, near Harrisburg, PA.

Overall, I feel very fortunate. I enjoy living here with Andy and his family. I love watching my granddaughters' joy in life. They are witty, funny, spunky, sensitive, intelligent, and loving. I have made several good friends, including an instructor in gentle yoga. My friends, including my caregiver Laura, have opened doors to Nature for me, so that I am able to appreciate places and phenomena that the average newcomer would never see. I am taking a Ruhi 4 Bahai class. The local Bahais have been friendly and welcoming. I still enjoy walking almost every day, often with my new friends. I still like to celebrate life and friendship, and that is why I am sharing this message with you. Please stay in touch, and tell me what's been going on in your life.Best times to call are usually after 8:30 in the morning and in the evening before 9 p.m. Please try my home phone first. See numbers below.

P.S. I have learned a lesson about adjusting to life from the chimney swifts, who had to adapt to roosting in chimneys when their habitat of hollow trees in old growth forests was eliminated. I hope that you will enjoy seeing the film clip, offered below.

Love,
Nancy

Cherry Blossoms and Challenges

The cherry blossoms of Washington D.C. were delightful on March 29.
Imagine a sea of lovely white cherry blossom trees, huge kites, some
in shapes of planes and butterflies, "Kite-eating trees" "eating"
some of the kites, and people of all ages walking around on a grassy
field surrounded by the cherry trees on a sunny day. Add to that my
granddaughters, Haley and Maddie, ages 9 and 7, and my son, Andy,
climbing the big old trees. It was like a dreamland. Thankfully, I
was able to keep up with the others as we walked around this
beautiful place, in spite of my post-surgery clumsiness. We were
celebrating my daughter-in-law, Lu's birthday. We also had dinner at
an Ethiopian restaurant where we ate the food with Ethiopian bread
rather than silverware.

Fortunately, it has been working out well to share a large new house
with my son Andy and his family. This is a great family with love,
respect and consideration for others . They have been good to me.
They enjoy life and we have fun times. It is an inspiration to me
to have the children around. Hiking or walking every day are also
helpful to me. Fortunately Andy and Lu found a house near a stream
and woodlands I have enjoyed hiking there and meeting interesting
people. I usually have a caregiver a few hours a day, Monday through
Friday to help me with food preparation, laundry, and transportation.

As for challenges, I did have to have a third brain surgery for
another tumor. I came through that well and was out of the hospital
in two days. However, this tumor was in a different place so the
doctors recommended more chemotherapy and radiation even though I had
had that after my first operation in 2005. They say the side effects
can be greater the second time. I am learning more and more about
trust and expecting the best. The nausea was horrible one day, but
luckily some medicine helped. I expect to be finished with treatment
by May 2nd. The side effects may last longer. I have to take the oral
temodar every morning. I go in for radiation Monday through Friday
and have Weekends off. I am determined to fight on, even though it
can be tough. I am still careful about my diet and I drink pau d'
arco tea. Your positive thoughts and prayers and email are greatly
appreciated and needed.

Poli Poli

Poli! Poli! Swahili for Slow! Slow!

Poli is the new word I learned on the Colorado Mountain Club hike to Lizard Rock near the Lost Creek wilderness area last Saturday. It was a five-mile hike uphill to lizard rock and back. Much of the hike was in the hot sun. I wondered if I could do this hike after my chemotherapy. I am slowly getting stronger, but I am still pretty weak. I worried that I might be holding others back by needing to rest and by going so slow. I struggled to trudge forward in the heat. Then came the encouraging words, "Poli! Poli!" from Harry Vulgamore, leader of the hike, and his wife, Caroline. They explained that those are the Swahili words spoken by the guides for climbers of Kilimanjaro. Americans often want to race up this enormous mountain. People can not go very far at the high altitude when they start out fast. That is why the guides say Poli! Poli! They want people to be able to successfully climb the mountain.

Seeing my difficulty, and, thankfully, not mentioning it, Harry and Caroline suggested a rest stop on a ridge. We all stopped. Harry was determined to keep his group together. We thought we might have to turn around. I rested and ate my dark chocolate gluco-support bar. Amazingly, I began to feel better. I realized I could hike further. We kept going. It was now a little cooler. We all made it to the top, right at Lizard Rock. We saw beautiful views. I learned I COULD do this. I AM RECOVERING! I also learned, once again, that it makes a lot of difference to have a little help and encouragement from friends. I learned that "Poli Poli" is the way to go. The tortoise not the hare.

Poli Poli That is the way I build my stamina. Poli Poli That is the way I rebuild my private practice in psychology. Poli Poli That is the way I catch up on correspondence and clutter. Poli Poli Life is good. I am climbing the new mountains of my life after a malignant brain tumor.

Miracle in Maryland

It is now late September, 2005. It is time to tell the unusual story about how my adult children probably saved my life and my quality of life on my visit to Baltimore in late February. I was fortunate to be in the right place at the right time when a malignant brain tumor was found. What happened still seems like a series of miracles.

I had planned a trip to Baltimore to help with my grandchildren because my daughter-in-law, Luciene Parsley, had just had surgery on her elbow. Much to my surprise, I was the one who received the help.

The first sign of a problem occurred when I left Colorado Springs for the east coast on February 19. I was frisked and had to go through security a second time because I had accidentally left an all-purpose tool in my backpack. I was afraid I would miss my plane with all the delays, so I ran to the gate with my carry-on bags flapping. Strangely, once I got on the plane, I had trouble finding the overhead storage compartments. I moved my hands in a swimming motion trying to find the compartments. Other people helped and I finally managed to sit down. I got out my paperback book and was happy to find I could still read. I wondered if I had had a stroke. My left side was not operating well.

When I arrived at my layover in Chicago, I still felt a little disoriented and dizzy. I asked for a wheelchair and a checkup. Fortunately, my vital signs were okay and I could continue on my journey, rather than being stranded in a hospital in Chicago without my family. This seemed like one of the miracles.

After the plane landed in New York, I seemed to be okay. I even went with my oldest son Rod Parsley and his family to the Gates Exhibit in Central Park, New York. I also found my way in crowded train stations on my way to Baltimore. However, the train trip was stressful for me.

In Baltimore I began to have obvious perceptual problems. I bumped into people and things with my left side. I would look around carefully, and still bump into someone or something. On the evening of February 23, my son Andy Parsley said we had to talk. He told me I had to do something about the perceptual problems. The next day we spent a few hours in the emergency room at the nearest hospital. An MRI revealed a small (two and one-half centimeter ) tumor in the parietal area in the back of my head. I was told I needed brain surgery to remove the tumor. My adult children went into action. My daughter-in-law, Luciene, found that the best neurosurgeons were at Johns Hopkins hospital (possibly the best hospital in the world). Unfortunately, I was at a different hospital. My son Rod and Luciene, (an attorney) argued with the present hospital staff about my being transferred to Johns Hopkins. When the hospital staff members said that a transfer was totally impossible, Rod called his friend, Alex Sapir. Rod and Alex and others had shared a house when they went to Harvard Business School. Amazingly, Alex and people from Alex's firm, had worked with doctors at Johns Hopkins to develop wafer implants which would dispense chemotherapy. Alex called one of the neurosurgeons who was a close friend of his. The doctor authorized my transfer, and soon I had a miraculous midnight Saturday ambulance ride to Johns Hopkins. My brain surgery took place on Monday, Feb. 28, nine days after the first symptoms. During my surgery the small tumor was removed and eight chemotherapy wafers were placed where the tumor had been. Later I was told that the neurosurgeon, Dr. Weingart, had saved my perception and my vision.

A few days after surgery I went to stay with my son Andy, his wife Luciene, and my two granddaughters. Then I needed to go back to my home in Colorado Springs for chemotherapy and radiation. The only possible caretaker seemed to be my youngest son, David, who was going to graduate school in China. Without hesitation, he agreed to fly back from China to care for me. His help has been invaluable as I struggled through chemotherapy, radiation, and the effects of prescription drugs (which included panic attacks and mood swings). It was another miracle that he was willing to leave graduate school and put his career plans "on hold" for me.

I am so fortunate that my family came through for me, that the tumor was caught early, that I had an excellent neurosurgeon, and that we humans have a lot of connections for perception. I have been able to easily relearn perceptual skills that were lost as a result of the tumor and the surgery. My prognosis is good. My post-surgery MRIs show no signs of cancer. Thank God for miracles.

It's All In My Head

Today I got in my car and drove off only to find that I was confused
about which way to go. (I have lived in my house in Colorado Springs
for 30 years.) I was afraid that the brain tumor, which had been in
the parietal or perceptual area of my brain, was coming back.

Fortunately, the doctor assured me that it was NOT coming back at
this time. My MRI on June 22 showed NO signs of cancer. The cancer
could not come back so soon! That means the perceptual problems
seemed to be "in my head," just signs of stress.

This afternoon I saw my occupational therapist, Judy Pierson for
integrated manual therapy. She explained that I had "leaky blood
vessels" in my head. She has had some special training and was able
to work on correcting that problem. Now my head has stopped hurting
and my perceptual ability is beginning to come back. It turns out
that the problem was "in my head," but in a physical way, It was not
simply mental stress. Judy said that the physical problems led to my
experiencing more stress than I would have otherwise.

Cancer Treatment: So Far So Good

My first MRI after radiation and chemotherapy showed no signs of
cancer! What a relief! My son, Dave, and I just saw the pictures at
a meeting with Dr. Mitchell, my radiation oncologist, on June 30.
That good news makes it easier to deal with the many lingering
effects of the radiation and chemotherapy. I had heard that many
people feel that they have been run over by a truck after brain
surgery. I began feeling that truck toward the end of my six and one-
half weeks of radiation and chemotherapy. That "run-over," run-down"
feeling has now continued for over a month. However, I have
progressed to feeling I was run over by a volkswagen, and now, by a
loaded wheelbarrow.

I do not think I would have believed that fatigue could be so extreme
if I had not experienced it. Thankfully, I have brief periods of
energy. I can now see one client every few days. I can do some
gardening and I can sometimes walk around the neighborhood for up to
fifteen minutes. I have either stopped or am tapering off all my
prescription drugs, I and am taking healing supplements from my
naturopathic doctor.

It has been a long journey and I am very thankful for help and
prayers and support from so many people. Rather than thinking of all
I can not do, I often focus on my leisurely life with a morning nap,
several rental movies a week, and time to read. Some of this luxury
has to continue! I know I will not be pushing myself, like I did
before my cancer diagnosis in February. It is time to smell the
flowers and, as my energy permits, to have more and more time with
friends and family.

Cat Rescues Dog

Recently my outdoor cat, Gem, was wailing miserably and continuously
when I got up at 5:30 a.m. My dog, who is usually right outside the
back door, was nowhere to be seen. I feared that my 15-year-old,
six-pound Yorkshire Terrier, Kayfall, had died. I put on my sun hat
and shoes and went to the dog and cat room to see what happened. (The
dog and cat sleep next to each other on a comforter blanket at night.
They are great pals.) I found that my old dog had gotten tangled up in
the comforter and was not able to get out. Some heavy objects had
fallen on the place where he had climbed into the comforter. My dog
was happy to be free again. The cat got a can of tuna fish.