Joan Rivers

10/17/2014

When Time Slips Away

This is been quite the national news week. Ebola has dominated the headlines, and as the media ramps up the hysteria, the stories get more and more strange.

The strangest one for me is about Dr. Nancy Snyderman, the physician who took an NBC film crew to Liberia to cover the Ebola story. She’s the network’s chief medical correspondent. When her cameraman tested positive for Ebola, she and the rest of her crew were told to stay quarantined. Apparently, time just slipped away for Nancy…and she had a momentary lapse of judgement. So, what does she do? She decides to make a soup run. That’s right. She drives herself to a local restaurant in order to pick up some soup for herself. I’m just guessing here, but it must be one hell of a restaurant, and I’d love to know what kind of soup that was…and if they’d share the recipe.  Assuming they’re still open for business, that is.

Next was the coroner’s report on the death of Joan Rivers. She’d gone in for a routine outpatient procedure, an endoscopy on her throat to learn what might be causing her raspy voice. It seems time just slipped away from her doctor that day…he took selfies with Joan while she was knocked out under anesthesia, and just before she went into cardiac arrest. The coroner’s office has ruled her death ‘the result of a predictable complication’. I’m just guessing here, but I’d say there’ll be a massive lawsuit coming soon, which will now put the spotlight on all surgeons as each one of us who’ve been under anesthesia will now wonder what the hell goes on in our presence which just happens to be simultaneously in our absence. A very horrifying thought.

And then there’s the cover of People Magazine this week. Brittany Maynard is just twenty-nine years old and has terminal brain cancer. A newlywed when she was diagnosed just months ago, she and her groom have moved from California (along with her parents) to the state of Oregon which passed the Death With Dignity Act in 1997. She has chosen to leave this earth on her own terms, and in Oregon she has the legal right to do so. With prescribed drugs, she will be able to pass peacefully at the time of her choosing, rather than endure the horrific death that brain cancer would otherwise force upon her. As she watches her time slip away, she has become focused on the love of her friends and family, strength and inner peace. Every state in the union needs to get this law passed. If you disagree, push for it anyhow. You can choose your own death of suffering and pain…that’s your right as well.

BUT…the story that has really stayed with me this week is the one about Glenn Campbell. You know, the guy who hit big time with songs like Rhinestone Cowboy, Wichita Lineman, Gentle On My Mind, By The Time I Get to Phoenix, and Galveston…there’s a whole host of ‘em. If you have no idea who I’m talking about, well, you’re just a few decades too young (but if you head over to iTunes, you can take a listen). He’s won nine Grammy awards, the most recent in 2012 when he was awarded the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award.

So, what’s news with him? He’s in the late stages of Alzheimer’s, yet has just released his final song video. It’s a ballad that was written for his wife. As Glenn Campbell’s time quickly slips away, he is cognizant enough to leave one last message.   It’s both a heartbreaking and tender act of lasting love, of self-awareness, of inner strength and of incredible dignity.  It’s titled ‘I’m Not Gonna Miss You’. For Glenn, that’s the blessing and the ‘only thing that selfishly remains’…because Alzheimer’s is a disease of stolen memories.  He can’t miss what he can’t remember…that’s the silver lining that Glenn has found.

Let’s hope the news next week is less memorable.

09/21/2014

Fall Is In The Air And Chemo Is In My Hair

Summer is over but these blooms aren't convinced even when the afternoon sun has faded away.

Summer is over but these blooms aren’t convinced even when the afternoon sun has faded away.

Today is another beautiful day here in northern California. Sunny, clear skies as the fog has retreated back to the coast for the bulk of the day. But as the afternoon hours press on, the sun is beginning to fade and I can feel just a wee bit of a chill in the air. Our flowerbeds are still in glorious bloom, but change is coming.

And, change is coming for me as well. Chemo is clearly working, as exactly sixteen days after round one, my hair is beginning to fall. No biggie, it’s only temporary. It’s rather odd to have so much hair sitting in my hand, but I’ve been fully prepared. Waiting, almost. Wondering which would be the last day I’d feel like me when I’m out in public. If tomorrow might be the day I’ll feel like an imposter when I wear my newly purchased wig, or possibly a scarf instead.

I’ve spent the better part of the day wondering if I should just get those clippers and deputize my husband, allowing him to take charge and buzz it all off for me. But…it’s only dropping in strands.  Small groupings of 10 to 15 strands in a pass.  But it’s just a matter of days, or maybe hours, before those small groupings become small clumps…and I sure don’t want to be in line at the grocery store missing a massive clump of hair I’ve no idea has fallen off, leaving a bald spot back there that only the customer behind me can see.   AWKWARD.  What to do?  Buzz now or buzz later?  One more day of feeling like me or one less day of hanging on to something that is clearly departing, no matter my wishes for an extended stay.

It’s not the loss of hair…it’s the loss of incognito. No flying under the radar this time around. And, of course I knew that…which is why I figured I wanted all of you to hear it from me this time, not from the scuttlebutt on the street. Because, well, you know…it’s like that telephone game. Most people really do mean well, but somehow the facts just get lost in the translation from ear to ear…and by the time they get back to me, I’m already on death’s door. Don’t ya just hate that?

With each new transition from one season to the next, change is inherent. Much of it is predictable, like the drop in temperatures, the shifting skies, the gathering of winter clouds.

Some changes are almost imperceptible, they are so slow to happen. The subtle change of the leaves on the trees, the lower cast of the sun each day as earth quietly shifts its axis rotation.

With each strand of hair that falls from my head, I wonder if maybe it will grow back next time a wonderful new color…you know, like in those Clairol hair ads. Rich, lustrous locks befitting a woman of my age. No white or gray, but something along the lines of…maybe Joan Rivers blonde. She looked wonderful for her age (just a few decades older than myself)…and although I understand that was the work of many talented surgeons and hair stylists, hey…it’s not too much to ask for, is it? Or, how about Melissa Gilbert? Have you seen her lately? Gorgeous red hair. We’ve got redheads in our family…it’s not a stretch. Maybe chemo will give me hair just like hers. I could throw everyone for a loop: “I know, right? Ya, the chemo did it!”

Chemo is working…my hair is falling out. That’s the GOOD news! The bad news? Well, I’m hard pressed to find any, unless hubby shaves a Mohawk on my head. Don’t laugh. Could happen. He’s never wielded clippers before in his life.

Here’s to YOU, Joan.   R.I.P.

Life goes by fast.

Enjoy it.

Calm down.

It’s all funny.

            –Joan Rivers