Author: Catherine

The Grisham’s are stacked over there on top of a nightstand, and the alphabet series is spread out over three bookcases. Ms. Cornwell is here and there, and if you won’t laugh, I have a section on erotica somewhere in the closet. A few Janet Evanovich books have been added to my collection, and they are stacked on a ladder-back chair in the dining area. She’s new to me, so I’m saving her for a rainy day.

My father’s and grandfather’s Oz books by L. Frank Baum and later Ruth Plumly Thompson date back to 1915 (there are three different books). There is Tennyson’s Poems that must have belonged to my great-grandmother (dated 1896), and let’s not forget The Blue Book of Social and Friendly Correspondence (dated 1922). I have several other books that belonged to my parents and grandparents, as well as books for children that my siblings and I enjoyed when we were young.

Through the years, I have collected a few Bibles, but none is more beautiful than our family Bible, which dates back to 1873. Actually, there are two family Bibles, and my sister has the other one. I should ask her about the date.

For some reason, I have a collection of dictionaries. The same is true for cookbooks that came from my mother’s kitchen. I’m a card-carrying member of the world’s worst cooks organization. Okay, there probably isn’t such an organization, but the title fits.

Dad’s Carrier Cruise Annual (1950-51) is displayed quite nicely, as is a model of one of the aircraft he flew. My uncle sent me his three volumes of Lee’s Lieutenants by Douglas Southall Freeman (dated 1943 and 1944). I’ve yet to read them.

I have slim books and fat books, hard covered books and soft covered books, paperbacks that have yellowed with age and books that are begging to be read. Mysteries, poetry, history, art, travel, and the old self-help books all grace my bookcases, table tops, and various other places. A few classics are thrown in for good measure.

Books, books, books … and now they come in LARGE print. No more squinting at small print found in paperback books. Soft covered books and hard covered books in LARGE print is a true blessing to these old, tired eyes.

Well, I could go on and on, but I won’t …

Have a nice day!

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

my heart breaks
each time
i think of them
not knowing
for sure
but feeling
deep in my soul
one daughter
one son
grieving
my heart aches
the simple service
at last
sitting quietly
by candlelight
reading
from the bible
the priest
holding my hands
repeating words
meant to bring
peace and
comfort
to ease
the pain
entering
their names
forever
on a page
in the
small
book
of
love
for h and e

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

We do this bit by bit. We let others into our lives … our private nooks and crannies and secret places. We trust that they are who they purport to be, just as we are honest about ourselves. Then it begins.

We share our deepest thoughts and feelings. We allow others to see our good and funny and thoughtful and sad and intelligent and grumpy and vulnerable sides. We are multi-faceted, I suppose.

We share phone numbers and addresses and emails and screen names and birthdays. We discuss family and friends, as if we all lived in the same neighborhood. We share photographs and Web cams and voice chats and phone calls … things meant to bring each other into focus … into our real world.

We trust. We love. We give. We take. We get angry. We misunderstand. We get hurt, and then we give it one more try hoping to make things better.

We cry for ourselves because we feel stupid and silly and cheap and used and tossed aside as if we never existed, and we wonder if we will ever trust again.

We do and so it begins as if it never ended. We forgive and move forward; oftentimes, we forget. We are, after all, just human beings.

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

My friend asked me how I am doing in my new role as a cancer survivor. Good question. Thankful and grateful certainly comes to mind.

Each day is different. There are days when I feel full of energy that might last through the morning. On these days, I do early morning errands and return home before noon. I rarely go out in the afternoon.

There are days when I have no energy at all, so I stay inside and watch old TV shows, movies, or read a book. Sometimes I take a nap.

Yesterday, I weighted myself and I’ve lost 35 lbs. since March (when I started chemo). Because I don’t exercise on a daily basis, on the days that I make it to Target I do a few laps around the store. It’s been too hot to walk outside as I have to wear something on my head, long sleeves and pants. I refuse to wear socks now that I’m no longer going for chemo.

I’m still using a cane for balance.

Food is of little interest. I’m a terrible cook. Seriously. I am. Some foods still have no taste while other foods are tolerable. For the longest time everything tasted like metal. Now it just tastes blah.

I’m alive. I have the normal fears that the cancer might return. Today, I have a sore throat, so I’m constantly checking for swelling on the side of my neck. That’s how I found out I had cancer. A lump.

My hair is trying to come back but it looks more like baby hair than anything else. I wonder what it will look like when it completely grows out? It doesn’t look like I’m going to be a redhead (not that I ever was).

So, that’s where I am today. Alive. Cancer free. Thankful. Loving and loved.

~Catherine

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

I won’t say that the form of cancer I had will never come back, but after six rounds of a very aggressive form of chemo and four PET scans my prognosis is very good.

In fact, I won’t see the doctor until the end of October, my port will be removed in the next few weeks, and a CT scan will be done in six months.

That’s a whole lot of grateful, thankful, and Praise God from where I’m sitting.

Life is truly good!

Catherine

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

Six months ago, I had long blond hair. Today I am bald.

Just before I started chemo, I had my hair cut short. Less than two weeks later, right after my first chemo treatment, it started to fall out. It started coming out in clumps, so I got a buzz cut that was actually quite cute. Within days what little hair that was left fell out.

That was before I lost my eyebrows and long eyelashes.

When I go outside, I wear a scarf or a cap. When I’m inside, I take it off. Lately, I’ve been removing whatever is covering my bald head while inside a store. Most always while at the cancer center.

I walk with a cane because of poor balance. The state handicapped sticker on my car is temporary, but it is a huge help when I go to the store.

I look at myself in the mirror and barely recognize myself. I know. I know. It’s just hair and it will grow back. This is true. I’m not that vain. However, it is difficult to see how I look today compared to six months ago.

We won’t talk about the weight loss. Nearly 30 lbs. to date.

We won’t talk about the numbness in my fingers and toes.

We won’t talk about the eye floaters that popped up on the day of chemo #5.

We won’t talk about the constant lack of energy and inability to sleep more than 2 or 3 hours at a time.

What I want to focus on are the results of my last two PET scans. No visible signs of cancer. My next PET will be week after next. I’m praying for the same results. No visible signs of cancer.

I have completed six rounds of the most intense chemo known to man. It has killed off everything – good and bad. Every 21 days I have spent hours at the cancer center hooked up to all kinds of infusions. The port in my chest has been a lifesaver.

Every Monday, I have shown up for lab work. The week after chemo is the most difficult because the results are very low. I’m sick for at least 10 days and slowly regain some strength. Food tastes like metal so I don’t eat much. I call these days the 10 days from hell. They are.

It is now time to move on to the next phase of this journey. In just a couple of weeks, after my next PET scan, I will meet with my doctor and she will lay out a plan of action for the next several months that will probably then become the next several years.

I know that it will take time for certain side effects to go away and even longer for my hair to grow back. The numbness in my fingers and toes may never go away. There is no guarantee.

As difficult as it has been going through chemo … and there have been times when I wanted to give up … the support that I have received from family, friends, and the cancer center got me to where I am today.

There are no words for the sense of gratitude that I am feeling today.

Catherine

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”
~Leo Buscaglia

Many of us remember the Vietnam War (Vietnam “Conflict” as it once was called). I certainly do, but at the time it was a war that we watched at night while eating dinner in the family room.

The TV was always turned off if we were eating dinner at the dining room table. That time was reserved for family discussions. My parents did not object to us having spirited discussions during dinner in the dining room, but we were not going to have them with the TV blaring in the background.

I don’t remember our conversations about Vietnam, but I feel certain we had them.

After high school, my boyfriend and I went to different colleges. The war was still going on at that time, and former classmates were enlisting in the military, some were drafted, and a few went to Canada or so I was told much later. There were those who came home wounded for life, while others came home in body bags.

My boyfriend enrolled in the Army ROTC program, but he was never called for active duty because of injuries he received after four years of college football. He went to law school, instead. Still, the war raged on.

Years later, I met the man who I thought I would marry. He had fought in Vietnam. We talked about the war and his tours of duty. What become apparent, as time went by, was that he was not a well man. He became violent and abusive; jealous and possessive; confrontational and frightening. We never married.

Fast forward … (which has nothing to do with Vietnam)

What I have discovered on this latest journey of my life is the kindness of strangers and people with good hearts and souls … those who look beyond the flaws and extend hands of friendship. I pray that I can give back an ounce of what they have given to me.

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.