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Category: Writing

Rest in the Time of Coronavirus (and, um, Brain Cancer)

I was talking with my brother, Paul, sister-in-law Sarah, and David this week, when Sarah and I got to chatting about writing. She’s diligent, writing 500 words every morning at her computer before starting her work day, and it impresses me. (She also walks miles every day, does other exercising every day, cooks elaborate meals every day–meanwhile I sit on the couch to type this in the sweats I’ve been wearing for two days and I’m about to throw some shredded chicken and store-bought enchilada sauce in the oven and call it dinner. I know women aren’t supposed to compare themselves, but…you guys, these sweats are from Old Navy. They’re threadbare at this point. It’s all I’m saying). My point is, Sarah is hustling. My life is so anti-hustle these days I can’t even rest properly. (Anyone else not able to sleep anymore? I know it’s not just me.) During our conversation the subject of this blog came up, and Paul thanked me for finally posting something last Friday that wasn’t about…

See You on the Flip (Phone?) Side: Leah’s Doing a Digital Detox

Hiya, friends. Life in Brain Cancer Land has been frustrating this week. Mom is declining again, but we’ve been forced to revoke her hospice benefits in order to allow her to keep receiving the every-three-week Avastin infusions that help keep brain swelling down. We’d signed on with hospice with the understanding that she could keep receiving Avastin, but the provider’s pharmacists raised the red flag a couple weeks ago: even though the treatment is only palliative at this point, our buddies in the office recognized it as a chemo and refused to allow it because it’s still considered a life-preserving treatment. I get it, I suppose, but it’s hard not to get the impression that Mom’s not dying enough for them: her hospital bed was removed from the house within four hours of me submitting the revocation form. But this post isn’t about my mom. It’s about, well, me. It’s no surprise that the past year and a half has been a struggle. But a lot of it is my own doing. Let’s start with this: many…

A Husband, A Dream of Writing, and A Kind of Thank You

Today is Cian’s first day of kindergarten. For the first time in ten and a half years, I am alone, left to my own devices, free to use these morning hours for all of the writing work (two books! already started!) I’ve been waiting to do, waiting to concentrate on, waiting to finish, for most of the working day. It’s a whole new world out here, you guys, and boy, is it quiet. But, dear reader, this post isn’t about Cian–he was so ready to go, and that kind of happy knowledge overshadows the fact that his goodbye wave at school was more of a “please leave because I have very, very important things to do” shrug. It’s not about me, either, who’s feeling pretty darned proud of herself for not collapsing into a big snotty puddle of sobs the instant he turned away from us. This post? It’s about David. See, here’s the thing about my husband: he carries the financial weight of our family on his back, and does so with so much grace it’s easy…