STAYING ALIVE AT FIFTY-FIVE
When cancer comes calling there’s no choice in the matter. There are no excuses to be made. You can’t get out of it.

Before The Diagnosis
It was the weekend of March 16, 2006-my 54th birthday. It was a weekend of tradition- our eighth annual getaway. Jessica and Joanne, my roommates from college and Lorinda, a friend for the same 35 years fly to Puerto Rico, go only as far as Isa La Verde to the Intercontintal Hotel where Jessica has arranged for everything to be perfect. This healing ritual includes walks on the beach, fine dining, spa treatments, dips in the ocean, maybe a little gambling. Sort of what life would be like if we were kids again, planning our day around what we’d like to do. No shoulds, no have to’s. I’m an umbrella dweller, protecting my white skin from the sun’s rays. I did enough damage during my teens in search of a tan. I endured the pain and harshness of the sun’s rays, which never made me look healthy or beautiful, but instead rendered me red and peely. Now when everyone else glows from the sun’s warmth, I use blush.
Some gamble--I have given up gambling in lieu of the spa-there I know I’m a winner. In the evening, we explore the cuisine. These retreats provide an adventure that arouses the child in me.
This time the day before I left for the weekend, I had my annual physical. Dr Smollow asked about my concerns-any special tests he should administer? I remarked glibly that I thought my memory was fuzzier this year than last. He said would add a test that looks at memory and also checks for venereal disease. I laughed, not knowing whether he was kidding or not.
I felt fine-menopause seemed to be behind me. Hot flashes were in abeyance. My global warming for me had just turned into weather, no longer so drastic. And sleep patterns, well, I had made adjustments. Dr Smollow ran a complete blood panel, did an EKG and a chest x-ray. I left smiling.
After leaving the doctor’s office, I met up with Lewis, a man had had been dating for close to a year. We had planned to celebrate my birthday that night. I can’t remember anything about the evening. What I do remember is that at 7 in the morning when he walked me two blocks to my car and helped me hoist my suitcase into the trunk, he announced that he loved me. He said he thought I might be a bit disappointed that he had taken so long, but I just smiled. I think I already knew he loved and hearing him be brave enough to admit it was a wonderful moment.
I got into my car, opened my window for a few extra kisses before driving off to Starbucks for a latte. Life was good. I felt great, healthy, and attractive with someone to love and friends to play with in Puerto Rico.
The trip was filled will funny stories of our children’s exploits, our fantasies for the future, the beach, the breeze, the pool, fine dining at the museum in old San Juan Laughing, smiling, happy, I arrived at the airport for my return flight and headed straight to work when the red eye landed.