zen and the art of living with cancer

 

It began with a solo trip to New Zealand, because I can and who wouldn't if they could? I am a digital nomad. My WFH journey began in 2007. Mainly, I have worked from home like a good girl, but as the end of 2024 approached and my trip to NZ became more exciting, I could not bear the thought of leaving that paradise too soon. I was traveling halfway around the world and might never get to go there again. I decided to make the most of it. So I extended my visit, instead of returning on January 2nd, I would return on March 2nd. I would work from NZ, my normal California hours, and nobody had to know where I was sitting. 

My first 10 days were spent in Auckland. I found a modest little lodge near Takapuna Beach for less than $100 USD per night. The prices in NZ were amazing, with the currency exchange rate in my favor, I was getting a 43-44% discount on every purchase. Takapuna Beach was serene and beautiful. 

Once I got settled in, the first thing I did was a Hobbiton tour, which is a must for anyone who has read Tolkien's incredible imagination of hobbits and their habitat. I am simply mad about hobbits! Fell in love with them at age fourteen when I read the books. Fell in love with them again when the movies came out. Fell in love with them again when I visited this Shire. 

While in the Takapuna/Auckland area, I also did a whale and dolphin watching tour (saw some), a night kayaking tour in a bioluminescent harbor, treated myself to fine dining in the restaurant at the top of Sky Tower, watched New Year's Eve fireworks, and spontaneously explored the city, gardens and beaches. I fell in love with New Zealand. It is a beautiful country in every way. 

On January 2nd, I flew to Wellington and used their fantastic public transportation to get to Waikanae, where I stayed for four weeks in an Airbnb room hosted by Helen and Graham, who became my new friends. They are delightful humans! Their dog rusty is adorable, too. 

Bush walks are the best!

Waikanae is a beautiful sanctuary. I walked to the beach and estuary, went to Nga Manu, Zealandia, Te Papa Museum, caught the Banksy exhibit across the street on its last day, walked around the Botanic Garden and harbor, rode the cable car and a double-decker bus, experienced the Otaki Pottery Club's annual festival of pots and garden decor (Graham is a retired ceramics teacher and still throws clay and sells his creations), and did a little shopping at the local farmer's market.  

At the end of January 2025, I flew from Wellington to Christchurch, where I would rent a small car and explore the south island. Alas, one mistake, and I was in the hospital. Let me back up. Was it a mistake to rent a car? Was it a mistake to risk driving in a foreign land? Nah. The mistake was to pick up my phone while driving, to look at the map. That was the mistake. I should have pulled over and got myself situated and then resumed driving. Instead, I drifted into a parked car, going no more than 40 kph (25 mph) - known because the driver behind me reported to police that I had slowed down before drifting toward the parked car. The airbags deployed and popped a hole in my gut. The hole was discovered hours later in the Christchurch Hospital ED, which meant that stuff had been leaking into the abdominal area for many hours. This explains why the pain was getting worse as my belly distended, as doctors examined me and ordered scans and lab tests, and waited for results, and then came the dramatic moment when a doctor sat at my bedside and told me the scans showed a mass of tumors in my abdomen and a perforation, and said that the tumors could not be surgically removed, and that I would need an ostomy for the rest of my life.

This is what I heard. I am quite clear about it. The memory is not foggy at all, and my immediate reaction was to realize that I could not work tomorrow or next week - I had to inform my employer immediately, which I did. Since it seemed I was riddled with inoperable tumors, there was no point in prolonging the morbidity, I told the doctor that I had planned for my end of life stage and told my family years ago that if I got cancer, I would not do chemo, I would live with cancer as best I could, managing pain and whatever symptoms could be easily managed without months of miserable side effects. This is my way. This is my zen. 

The doctor asked if she could contact my family. With the time difference, it was around 3am in California, and I said, "No. I don't want my family to get calls in the middle of the night to be told that I am dying. I will call them in the morning." 

Fast forward. My husband flew out immediately. During his long flight, I had a laparascopic surgery and was informed when I woke the good news - there were no tumors and they were able to resection the intestine. My husband spent 13 hours on a plane thinking his wife was dying this year. When he landed, the good news arrived by text message - there were no tumors and the hole was repaired. He rushed to the hospital and stayed with me for the remainder of February, staying at an Airbnb in Sumner.

My recovery took weeks. Meanwhile, we did our best to enjoy our time in NZ. Hanmer Springs was the best! We also went on a small group tour (we were the only people since the other couple canceled) to Mt Cook and Tekapo Lake. Toward the end of February, we took a scenic train ride from Christchurch to Picton and a ferry to Wellington, where Graham picked us up and we spent a few days with my new besties in Waikanae. I wanted them to meet my husband, and him to meet them, and I wanted to enjoy Wellington with him before we left. 

Fast Forward >> The Colonoscopy

Did I mention that the NZ doctors were adamant that I should schedule a colonoscopy as soon as possible? After the mass of inoperable tumors that weren't, my confidence in CT scan reading was blundered. Besides, there is a very specific reason I did not get a colonoscopy years ago when it was first recommended, and did not do it the many other times it was recommended. However, I promised that I would do it. And I am my word. If I say I will do something, I will. I committed to do it, not because they were pressuring me, it was out of curiosity. Is there a tumor on the sigmoid colon or is this another false alarm? If there is a tumor, how close to the end am I? Maybe it is time to find two doctors who will sign my EOLA form. 

The upside of learning that I have cancer is that I get a chance to say goodbye to my favorite people. I get to tell them there will be no funeral, that my corpse will be donated to a medical school, that I abhor the idea of people using their savings and vacation time to travel to look at my corpse in a coffin. Long ago, the ritual of keeping our dead bodies as long as possible on the Earth - it all seemed so absurd. I don't want my dead body to take up space. I don't want my ashes to be someone's responsibility, and I especially do not want my ashes to get blown into someone's face when they try to dispose. I don't want anyone to feel bad about not going to visit my grave. I don't want anyone to think I am there, that they can talk to me there, or in any way connect with me there. I won't have any part of this nonsense. I will say my goodbyes and they will have an opportunity to say goodbye, to donate to a favorite charity in my honor, to write a personal note on a pretty card and send it to me while I am living, which I will share with my family while I am living. Once it is time to end the suffering of this organism, which is a miraculous sample of the universe, there will be no need to do anything other than carry on, for the living to carry on with living, for I will be physically removed and disembodied, and will be with them in memory as much as they choose. No guilt. No regrets.

I want to go when I want. When I read that Albert Einstein is quoted as saying that, my whole being shouted, "Yes! Exactly! That's what I've been saying! You said it, too?" 

It is tasteless to prolong life artificially. Just ask my Dad. They put a G-tube in him after he had a stroke, and he pulled it out. He would have none of that. He was a chef. He would eat. They told him if he ate, he would die in two weeks. He couldn't swallow properly. He would get food in his lungs. It would cause an infection, pneumonia, and he would die. He was fine with that. Mom didn't know what to do. He pulled the G-tube out twice and insisted on having food in his mouth, where he could taste it. Not only was it about that, it was about dying on his own terms, it was about refusing to spend years in long-term care with his sweet partner hovering over him, tending to his dying body. 

We had time to visit him while he was living. We sang to him. We celebrated a new grandchild with him. We held his hand. We held Mom's hand. We said goodbye. He had an elegant death. 

The other upside to learning I have colon cancer is that it keeps me in the present. Outside of the present moment, anything else is a series of random thoughts coming and going in the monkey brain. The conversations happening in that nebulous space are not real. The only reality is Now. 

Now is the time to go enjoy the pool. Now is the time to enjoy some healthy food. Now is the time to smile at my honeybear. We got this. I am all about being Herzenity now. 

Next week, the doctor who performed the colonoscopy will give us the results of the biopsy. I will not be surprised to learn it is metastatic cancer. Several lymph nodes have been swollen for months. I did not seek medical advice about it. I want to go when I want. It is tasteless to prolong life artificially. What could they tell me? "You have lymphoma. We recommend chemotherapy and radiation treatments." 

No, thank you. I have done my share. It is time to go. I will do it elegantly. 

I had six fabulous weeks in New Zealand and made two new friends. I could not ask for a better way to spend that time. It was thoroughly enjoyable. 

I do not regret that I found out that I have cancer now. It is giving me a chance to figure out this organism's expiration date, approximately. A guesstimate. Anyway, anything can happen anytime to anyone. No creature is safe. Ever. As Helen Keller put it, "Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do that children of men experience it. Avoiding danger is no less risky than outright exposure. Life is a daring adventure, or nothing."

Like this attitude? Follow @herzenity on Instagram 

Photo: A pink neon sign reads THIS PRESENT MOMENT USED TO BE THE UNIMAGINABLE FUTURE. This is a work of art featured in the Smithsonian Renwick Art Gallery in Washington, DC. Carma's husband crouches at the base of the display and her avatar, Herzenity, was later added for fun in the foreground. April 2024

Updates are continually add here: cancer journal