MY CANCER AND ME, CONT’D

In November 2025, I learned that my kidneys weren’t functioning properly and this truly accidental discovery led me and my primary care provider on a relatively short investigation that was finally diagnosed as UTUC or upper tract urothelial carcinoma, a rare and incurable cancer of the urinary tract.

Since that time, and this was diagnosed around March of 2026, I have undergone major surgery to remove a non-functioning left kidney and a left ureter that was completely blocked by a tumor the size of a golf ball. I also underwent a TURBT procedure (transurethral resection of bladder tumor (TURBT) is a procedure healthcare providers use to diagnose and treat bladder cancer) at the same time. The ureter has a diameter of about 3mm so this tumor was by comparison enormous but as of April 9 and its removal it had not broken through and the margins were intact and good.

My recovery was quite swift and uneventful and within a few weeks I was back out walking each morning that the weather permitted it, doing 4–5 miles of Vermont’s uphill and downhill walking in just a little over an hour for 4 miles. I hope you understand that I am 73 going on 74 in November and I have a cancer that has metastasized to a lymph node, yet I still walk at a rate of just a tiny bit less than 4mph! Many 30 year olds can’t do that!

I have remained quite happy and active despite my diagnosis, even after metastatic cancer (a single lymph node) was confirmed by PET scan and by a subsequent biopsy in May. I continue to make art and I speak French for an hour nearly every day with friends, both local and abroad. Also since March 2022, I have been speaking with and emotionally supporting a woman in Ukraine who has been displaced from her home in the Russian-occupied east several times to where she now lives in a shelter dormitory in western Ukraine. This last has given my life additional meaning and purpose, as I know how much she depends on our near daily conversations.

You might ask me how I can be happy now with such an illness and an uncertain prognosis but my response is this: How can I not? I could dwell on how “unfair” it is to have this potentially life-shortening disease when I spent so much of my adult life miserable, fighting mental illness. I could worry about how I will cope in the future knowing death could be on the horizon. But neither railing against “unfairness” nor worrying about an as yet unknown and unrealized future seem to me either productive or a useful way to spend my time.

It truly is, as is said too often without a deeper understanding, what it is. I will reiterate this: it is what it is. Accepting reality without protest truly is key. Once you accept things in life as they are, especially things you have no power to control or change, life becomes immeasurably easier. What is real is now, and this “now” includes cancer yes but it also includes my walk most mornings and my art and French and my many friends and my wish to support and speak with my friend in Ukraine for as long as I can. This pushes me onward and gives my life meaning and purpose. I was miserable much of my adult life, but I’m happy now. What a blessing that is! Far better to have my life approaching its ending when I am happy rather than ending when miserable . Some have had a happy past, but become misery-beset when age brings on debilitating or chronic conditions. I used to be misery-laden but no longer. And to me this is precious: that the end of my life, whenever that is, might come at a peak of happiness rather in the “slough of despond” and in misery.

i remain immensely grateful for these past ten years and for any future that still remains to me. As for the past? It remains only in imagination now, just like the future. I refuse to dwell on either but to live my life in the present, and in reality. I love life but I accept as well the fact that it must end some day. This brings both peace and happiness, and not just happiness but joy: acceptance of what is. That’s the key. That and an unconditional acceptance of other human beings.

i will end this with the same words that are added to each email I send: “To love the whole world, to welcome the most odious and hate-filled with open heart, to accept and cherish each being completely, human or non-human alike, and to love without reservation or condition, this is our task, and the only risk worth taking.”

RECENT ART PLUS INKTOBER SKETCHES

Commissioned for a seasonal present last December 2025

Portrait of the president of Ukraine, Volodomyr Zelenskyy

Fractured torso 2026
Pet portrait done after a local humane society society auction, for which the prospective portrait was offered
Josette, half papier mâché and half soft sculpture, who never sold at the HC gallery now greets people sitting on my stairs!
“Jasmine reads Beloved” at the Harmony Artists Collective gallery, where some of my art is displayed and is for sale.

My hand drawing a picture of my hand, ink sketch in sketchbook

The adult son of a good friend, painted as a surprise birthday present. (The orange background photographed much brighter than the actual painting, due to lighting in my home. )

Below are Inktober sketches, which I hope are self explanatory.

Not quite finished but intended as an encounter between a ram and a Dodge RAM truck..

MY CANCER JOURNEY CONT’d plus INKTOBER, 2026

My recovery from the major abdominal surgery I had in early April was easy and uneventful. By May I was back walking the hills and streets of Brattleboro, every morning that it wasn’t raining. These walks I have kept up, interspersed with rest days or rain days once in a while.

In March I had had a Ct scan which had shown no metastases, so the surgery and bladder scraping and resecti was done on that basis. But in May I had my first PET scan and while the initial report was terrific, I soon learned that the experts at Dartmouth-Hitchcock medical center believed the report was in error. So I had to undergo a biopsy and they found one lymph node, the one closest to the kidney now removed, was cancerous, though not very big. Three months later I had a PET scan confirming what the biopsy had already told us.

Fast forward to August: I was not a candidate for most chemotherapy regimens, given that my one kidney was functioning only at 50%. One doctor suggested a chemo/immunotherapy combo, but the side effects would have been awful and frankly my quality of life matters to me far more than eking out a little more time. So I’ve opted for just immunotherapy with a med called nivolumab hyaluronidase, which can be given as an injection into the subcutaneous tissue of my abdomen. So far I’ve had 3 treatments as they occur once every two weeks. The first and second time I had some minor side effects, but the third injection, last Wednesday, has had no ill effects on me at all. I feel great! In fact I feel perfectly well, so it’s bizarre to me that I actually have metastatic cancer. Sometimes while walking uphill and downhill at 4mph I tell myself this, but it always feels absurd and unbelievable.

I need to leave for Bone builders soon, so instead of adding Inktober drawings quickly, I will simply post those in another post asap.

Would love to know who is reading this blog, if anyone is. Do think about commenting to that effect, if for no other reason.