Victoria Valentine's Day Auction Event !!

Thank you Lynda, Scott, Jill and all of the amazing authors who are donating gifts for this Auction of Love. A huge thank you to everyone who comes to our event and bids!! This auction is for a good cause. How do you make a long story short?

I recently published a poetry anthology dedicated to my husband, Tom, who has been battling cancer since last February 2014. The poetry in my section of Our Little Black Book of Ills anthology is inspired by our struggle and incredibly difficult (if anything bad could happen ... it did) problems and disappointments that cropped up along the way.  Thank you to my co authors who joined me on my journey:  Lynda G. Bullerwell, jacob erin-cilberto, Amitabh Mitra.  Our anthology is available on Amazon in Kindle format. Paperback coming soon.  

Below the Facebook Event Link you will read a narrative from Our Little Black Book of Ills introduction which briefly chronicles in verse some of the events which took place during the past months.

https://www.facebook.com/events/1398041530500391/?pnref=story

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Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has been here for me with love, prayers and their amazing support system.

My inspiration for Our Little Black Book of Ills is my husband, who was diagnosed with four thoracic sarcomas in February 2014. He underwent a surgery during which the surgeon left cancer inside his chest. At the time, he was given no alternative other than to wait for this lethal and rapidly spreading cancer to re-grow, which it did. Basically, the doctors wrote him off. They did not offer chemotherapy or radiation therapy. Their reasoning: his sarcoma would be drug resistant.

This devastating news prompted our tedious search for a second opinion thoracic specialist. We found an amazing surgeon in July, who offered a lifesaving technique which we were told could be curative. However, surgery had to wait until private healthcare kicked in, which would be several months later. The poem, Falling into Shock, represents our trip to Texas where my husband was scheduled for this extensive curative surgery in October 2014. However, when his chest was opened it was discovered we had waited too long: the cancer had broken through his chest wall and tentacles reached under his rib cage. It was inoperable. Anything after this point would not be curative: it would be life extension only. After waiting nerve wracking months for the surgery date to arrive, this disappointment seemed the final blow. Utter shock. Helplessness. Frustration. Anger at the system which had not permitted him private healthcare because we had applied after the enrollment period.

We returned to New York where my husband began a very strong regime of chemo, six infusions in total, one every three weeks. As I write this letter and format this book, he has received his fourth dose. The fact that the excruciating chest pain he had been experiencing is just about gone gives us hope that the cancer might be shrinking enough to return to Texas for that third and hopefully lifesaving surgery: if it's God's will, perhaps in February or March 2015. Three days from today, on Tuesday, 1/27/15, a PET scan will reveal the answer. This seems an endless waiting game, and waiting can near unbearable. Throughout this ordeal, the impatient me has learned patience: the control freak in me to relinquish. As always, my husband has remained strong but solemn. There is no such thing as hopeless if you try to have faith. Take one day at a time. Find peace in any way you can. Love one another as if there is no tomorrow.

Thank you and God Bless.

1) Update: We've been sidetracked yet again. This time by a monster blizzard which decided to strike on the exact day of the PET scan. The scan is rescheduled for Monday February 2, 2015.

2) Update: The imaging center had a cancellation on the day after the storm! So we didn't have to wait until Monday (tomorrow from today, as I write this) The PET was done on Wednesday, January 28, 2015. Hopefully, prayerfully, I picked the results up the next day. Sadly, his condition has deteriorated. Because his pain had been relieved, and some days he felt quite well, we were certain the cancer had responded to treatment and we'd be heading to Texas for another shot at surgery. Unfortunately, the chemo did not work. The cancer spread even deeper inside the right thorax and metastasized to his spine. :(  I'm still in shock. After a year of disappointment, I was certain we'd be on the uptrend and 2016 would be a better year. After all that's transpired, how can I still experience disappointment? Another cliché: always expect the unexpected.

You're drawn, waxen / sleeping an entire day without waking

I tiptoe in every few heartbeats  / to see if you're still breathing

I watch I wait / while cells divide / so not ready to say goodbye