Mixed Media Encaustic
THE BIG C
From the Artist Journal
Tuesday May 12, 2000
Where am I? Like this new-fangled keyboard, I keep trying to find my keys, my order, and my purpose. Every day brings another manic emotion. I’m going to do this, or that. This will be the day. Today I will…and so it goes…. until I feel totally frustrated, trapped within my own trappings. I have maybe too many things going on. One thing for sure, a daily writing about, it or not writing about it, whatever the case may be, can only lead to some revelations. Hopefully soon, as I feel I am running out of time. There, that’s it, running out of time, I wonder if this is what is really bothering me. How can I allow this fear to continuously permeate everything I do? It has been almost two years since I was diagnosed with cancer. Isn’t that interesting, I went back 3 times on that word cancer, trying to decide if I should capitalize the c or not. You’ve heard of the Big C. Oh yes, I was writing about the cancer. I guess it was a long time coming. This little cancer cell that was hidden within me, just waiting for the appropriate stressed out time to rear its ugly head. In my case a tumor the size of golf ball in my neck. I remember it was just after the sometimes-annual spring open house at the Delavan Center. This is where I have my studio and go almost daily to create or whatever. There I stood in front of the mirror early on a Sunday morning, May 17, 1998, applying moisturizer in the attempt to stave off the aging process, a daily ritual I take pride in doing as I find this time somewhat self-indulgent and pleasant. But this morning it was different, as it had been so many mornings before, for I’ve been noticing changes, changes I did not understand and had been blaming them on all the family problems that had been thrust upon us the past year. Some of the changes were a constant bloating, of the face mostly, and this morning something more, a tiny bump in the left side of my neck. I thought how strange, maybe an insect bit me; I didn’t know but distinctly knew that there was something strange about it. Later in the day, at a restaurant, we took my mother-in-law to for a belated Mothers’ day outing, I again noticed it in the mirror of the restroom. My young niece, Susan who was with me also noticed, or perhaps noticed my preoccupation with it and asked what it was. I remember saying; I don’t know and kind of laughed it off as a mosquito bite and didn’t think of it again for the rest of the day. I did mention it to my husband Bob, who in his not unusual concerned and caring way responded with, “you better have it, checked out by the Doctor”.
JULY 14, 2010
Twelve years have passed and I AM A CANCER Survivor. It has left its mark and i carry the side effects with me every day. My strength comes from surviving this ominous disease. I have become a survivor’s survivor and continue to live out my journey through the abstract.
Congratulations Linda!