Welcome to my CaringBridge website. We are using it to keep family and friends updated in one place. I appreciate your support and words of hope and encouragement. Thank you for visiting.
Dear friends, family, former students, colleagues and….,
Please sit down while I tell you the story of my initial month of falling through a medical rabbit hole after an idyllic Maine July enjoying the beauty and community of Swan’s Island, Maine happily hauling lobster traps in the best season I’d seen for years. On August 1, at the urging of friends in response to some vague symptoms, I went into Bangor to see my doctor. I was pretty sure I’d be back the next day in time for the last night of the Sweet Chariot Music Festival.
Instead I stayed to the next day as my doctor scheduled an ultrasound, the next for a CT scan, and five days later for a procedure to place a stent to free up a blocked liver bile duct and take a biopsy. The next day, a week after leaving Swans, I got the call indicating that I appeared to have pancreatic cancer. Since then there have been more tests, another biopsy, a couple of minor infections, exposure to more doctors than I’ve seen in most of my life, and, last week, a trip to the Dana Farber Cancer Institute for a review and second opinion. The upshot is that the cancer has metastasized, limiting me to chemo approaches to treatment. Given the description of the brutal surgery to remove a pancreatic tumor, I was partially relieved to be spared.
Other than “Rosemary’s baby,” the name I’ve given the tumor--which is only significant to folks “of a certain age” or serious followers of classic horror movies—I’m essentially healthy for the moment. Dana Farber has referred me to be considered for a clinical trial at UC San Francisco medical center, where my friend, Madeline, can provide housing and support during treatment, should it come to pass. Standard approaches to pancreatic cancer are not yet terribly effective, thus clinical trials employing new approaches targeting specific cancers offer more promise.
All of this has unfolded in steps, yet very quickly. So, I’ve been sharing primarily with local friends and family as I’ve waited for more info. As it has become more definitive, I wanted to share more fully so no one is left out. I do so with apologies that this isn’t a personal conversation with each of you, a task that was becoming overwhelming. I’m incredibly blessed with each of you, an extraordinary network of friends, family, former students, and colleagues. Everyone who hears wants to know “what can I do to help?”. At the moment, it’s a hard question to answer. I’m still well and waiting to see how things unfold. Friends have set up this Caring Bridge website to facilitate information, support, and resources..
You can imagine, I am still trying to wrap my head around this news as so many of you are as well. But in the stunned silence in the car returning from Dana Farber, it struck me that I had no bucket list--nothing that I have to do in order to feel I’ve had a fulfilled life. I’ve been able to do more personally and professionally than I’d imagined as a child. I’ve traveled, I’ve been able to make professional and personal contributions, I’ve an enviable network of loyal and loving friends and family, I’ve loved and been loved, and have been privileged to feel as though I’ve made an impact on my little corner of the world. That said, I don’t plan on moving on sooner than I have to. Satisfaction with life doesn’t mean there’s not more out there—including love and a four-day extravaganza birthday party for friends in Amsterdam in July 2019.
I know the next few months will be challenging. No one has ever described chemo as a walk in the park. But the love, support, inspiration, thoughts and prayers of the people in my life will carry me when the going gets tough as they have so far on this journey. I’ve not been alone most of the time--with friend, Madeline, here from San Francisco for the past 3 weeks and my sister, Pat, here after Madeline flew out on Sunday. And so many friends and family, my team of "keepers," have assured any evolving needs are communicated and addressed from soothing harp music, tasty meals, distractions and company.
Thank you all for being there!! It’s ok to be in touch. I needn’t be protected from mail, email, text or phone contact, though calls are sometimes deferred given phone traffic—in my new world, medical calls come first.
US: +1 646 876 9923 or +1 408 638 0968 or +1 669 900 6833
Meeting ID: 829 075 702
From a Polycom or other H.323 room system that is not a member of a video conference, click call on the remote and dial one of the following IP addresses followed by # the meeting ID and # again:
162.255.36.11 (US East)
162.255.37.11 (US West)
Meeting ID: 829 075 702
If you have not used Zoom before, I would recommend you download the program and test it prior to the start of the Memorial.
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