A number of fellow travelers accompanied me through this week. And I’m pretty sure—based on the therapeutic sheer pleasure of hanging out with them—I’m much healthier than when the week began.
There was the cancer-kicking, wilderness-hiking posse at our season opener: Six gentle miles along the Metolius River.
Photo credit: Mike Gibson
Back when my husband, Gary, and I first heard those epic unbalancing words: “You have cancer,” my thoughts went to, What next? Where do we go from here?
Photo credit: Unsplash
Last evening, the rain stopped; the Pacific waves were calm; and just before the sun went to bed, she gave one final brilliant show. All for my enjoyment while standing at the window of my cute little vacation rental.
Pacific view from my window
It’s gorgeously stormy and gray out. I can hear the pound of the Pacific, even though this tiny quaint vacation rental with its hardwood floors and stone fireplace is shut up tightly against the rain.
My husband, Gary, and I loved coming to the Oregon coast. I haven’t been back since he died, but it’s been on my brave-making list. And so, here I am.
Hubby’s hairstyle designed by chemo
Family and friends gathered in Idaho this weekend to celebrate a life well lived: Mom-in-law Ivalene, who died of complications due to pancreatic cancer.
Jack and Ivalene Johnson, 1946
Since yesterday’s Celebration of Life service, a few random thoughts have been swirling in my brain:
Self-care was something I didn’t do well in the final months of my husband’s life. Because I could do it all myself. Because I didn’t want to bother other people. Because self-care sounds rather selfish, self-centered, self-conscious.
But it’s not. Self-care is simply seeing to our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health so we can better care for others.
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Does creativity have anything to do with our health and wellbeing? In 2010, researchers analyzed more than 100 studies about the impact of creativity on our health: music, writing, dance, painting, sculpting, weaving. And everything in between.
Photo by rawpixel.com on Unsplash
My friend, upon turning 40, had a mammogram. Suspicious areas showed up in both breasts, which precipitated an ultrasound, two biopsies and additional mammography. All to the tune of $4,000. Although no cancer was detected, my friend needs to return every six months for images. “High risk,” they said. “We need to watch this closely,” they said.
Here’s the catch: Her insurance pays for preventive mammography, but not diagnostic mammography. Which means the ongoing imaging will be a significant out-of-pocket expense.
Short of propping open a guitar case and strumming on the streets, what’s a person to do?
Photo credit: Pixabay
After my husband, Gary, died of cancer, I relocated to southern California, claimed my daughter-in-law’s pink-rimmed bike as my own, and said Yes to several not-necessarily-planned-far-in-advance adventures.
Venice Beach with my pink-rimmed ride
Over the past few years, a number of people have asked about best ways to support a newly-diagnosed-with-cancer friend, neighbor, or family member. Or how to support a close friend who just learned a loved one had cancer.
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Copyright © 2025 Marlys Johnson
