Home Again

----- Original Message -----

We made it home from the hospital, earlier this time. Everything went well.

Karen is moving better than after the first surgery and much more groggy and tired. She's napping now. A home nurse is supposed to come out to help with the drain and changing bandages. We should be contacted by a lymphedema clinic to setup treatment. I think there are exercises as well.

The surgeon was unable to put in the port for chemo during this round, which means another outpatient excursion, possibly next week or the week after. While it would have been nice to have that done, perhaps it's best only to have her sore on one side at a time.

The follow-ups with the surgeon and the oncologist are both Thursday morning. Hopefully, the drain will come out then. We won't have pathology until at least then.

4 hours of sleep inspires brevity. That's all for now.

----- End Original Message -----

Preparing for the Dawn

Tonight we tend our equipment by the fire, mending torn surcoats, sharpening notched steel, re-linking rent chain. The air is alive with exchanges of encouragement between friends and the chatting of companions, the camaraderie of veterans. We camp outside the armory waiting to don plate and mail.

Before the armoring comes the barber. Some might envision Samson within the temple or mindless shearings at Birkenau. I see the Maid of Orleans defiantly slashing her hair, preparing to lead an eager, angry army to free her oppressed people. Copper tears of her tresses curl and drip onto the black apron as her locks bead and roll down its front before pooling on her lap. Her hair becomes an amber-orange halo woven with threads of fire and gold, little left for an enemy to grasp.

Over a borrowed mail shirt, she armors herself in breastplate and greaves polished to gleam in the early morning light, a beacon of the dawn. Serving as her squire, I strap a stout shield to her right arm, emblazoned with the bold colors of her crest. Her sword arm wounded in the last encounter, she chooses a banner for her left, a pennant slotted in her stirrup that shall neither dip nor waiver.

Once again mercenaries ride with us tomorrow, their captain-general accepting the bulk of anticipated swordplay. We her companions are to form a knot of housecarls, a tightly packed escort securing our hero's safety. We ride uncertain whether this raid will disperse our assembled enemy or merely reconnoiter their gathering strength. Either way, we intend to wound and unbalance the grendel before we retreat behind our fortress walls, its army closing around us. Ours is a final freedom of action before the interminable siege begins.

During the night we smuggled in an alchemist. The young, clean-cut mage has begun to bubble his warlock's brew of potions tailored to exploit his catalogue of grendel weaknesses, experience born of many campaigns against its kind. He relates how they can be aggressive, fierce and sneaky. Mines and trenches, raids and diversions along with the relentless siege engines we have sighted lie within their tactical repertoire. He advises deploying the potions first, Greek fire to be sown through their advancing ranks. Magical beams of radiation will act as our reserve, mopping up any remaining resistance once they break and run.

There begins the next battle. Tonight we focus on the morning. Gathering our horses before Matins, we will ride as a whispered prayer before dawn, our swords speeding the sun's blinding rays toward victory.

© 2007 Edward P. Morgan III

Oncologist 2

----- Original Message -----

Another piece I didn't send out for general consumption was that the oncologist said that without adjuvant treatment (chemo and rads), the ballpark chance of recurrence was 50%, minimum, revised upwards if there were unexpected surprises on Monday or from the scans.

The good news was that with treatment, that would go down by 75%, to end near 13% which, while he didn't say it, was the same base chance of a woman developing breast cancer in the first place.

One of the drugs he is planning to use (Hercepton) was just approved by the FDA within the past year and yields very good results, with another that looks as good or better looking at approval within the next year or so.

Much more real today.

----- End Original Message -----

Oncologist

----- Original Message -----

Karen and I met the oncologist today, Dr. Diaz at Gulf Coast Oncology. He is very personable and took a lot of time to answer our questions. His is an evidence-based approach (as is all oncology, I think).

Mostly we found out things we already knew. He went over the pathology reports in depth. Chemotherapy is a definite followed by radiation. The oncologist was going to contact the surgeon to have her install a port for chemotherapy on Monday so Karen doesn't have to go through a separate procedure. He also is going to order a bone scan and a PET/CT scan to check for other malignancies. That all gets done after the surgery Monday but before chemo.

The schedule shapes up to be chemotherapy in undecided length starting in March (about 4 weeks after surgery) followed by four weeks off then 6 to 8 weeks of radiation. The chemotherapy will be dose dense, which means a dosage every 2 weeks instead of every 3, partly because of the aggressive nature of one of the tumors triggers. Some of this gets adjusted based on the pathology from Monday and the results of the other two scans. With luck, that might mean we're done before Dragon*Con in Atlanta over Labor Day weekend which she really wants to go to.

The oncologist was cautiously optimistic for the long term. He was glad she had a support network and had reached out to other patients on the breast cancer chat room.

Karen is planning to donate her hair to Locks of Love tomorrow or Sunday. She'll probably leave it at about 2 inches to start to ease taking care of it while she recovers from the surgery. The chemo will probably claim whatever is left. She's deciding whether to go with a blonde wig (for those "blonde" moments while she's on chemo) or just go with the Sinead O'Conner/Grace Jones look and let everyone decide how to react.

Today, everything became much more real.

----- End Original Message -----

Sentinel

Early this morning, one of three sentinels lit a watchfire, a warning of activity in the distance. Our clockwork mage divines an ambush, a grendel rising to raise an army, marching to avenge his excised mother.

Scanning from atop our well-stocked watchtower, we see engines of war approaching, catapults, ballistae, a troll-headed ram where we thought only a small horde might appear. Instead of enduring a simple siege until relieved by the force of radiation, now we must build counter-instruments, our own trebuchet ensconced atop the barbican to hurl back packets of death in the form of chemotherapy that will target the approaching engines before they have a chance to set, range and loose.

Monday at dawn a surgical strike team will sally from the main gate to scatter the attack before it has a chance to organize, a delaying tactic. We will sacrifice pickets in a blocking action across the winding approach to our castle, trading lymph nodes for time. More wounds to our hero are imminent, but her healing comes behind the stone of our keep as we feast upon the fresh provisions our allies have generously provided.

Our commanders, our mage-generals, are confident if cautious that we will endure this siege given time to prepare proper countermeasures and defenses. Supplies will be gathered, deep basements stocked, the moat cleared, a hoarding erected atop the curtain wall. After Monday's skirmish, there could perhaps be one other minor raid through the postern before our gates are barred, our portcullis lowered, our trebuchets loaded and ready to rain clay canisters of Greek fire upon our approaching enemies. The drumbeat of their impacts will serve as a nepenthe for our hero, inducing forgetfulness, a remedy to her pain and grief.

© 2007 Edward P. Morgan III

Karen’s Follow-up

----- Original Message -----

We just got back from the follow-up with the surgeon. One of Karen's lymph nodes came up positive under the microscope. She is scheduled for an axillary lymph node dissection this coming Monday (down at Bay Front, again). This time the surgeon will have to install a drain for 5 or so days. For a couple days anyway, we'll have a nurse coming out to the house to check on it.

Just when Karen was getting more mobile from last Monday's adventure.

We have a first appointment with an oncologist this coming Thursday. The positive lymph node means chemo at some point. Radiation is still a given.

Less than desirable news, but we still are cautiously optimistic that this just means more treatment and in a year it will all be behind us.

----- End Original Message -----

Interlude

Something from while we were waiting this morning. Last one like this for a while. Thanks for indulging me.

----------------------

Over the weekend we wandered out into the park to relax and reconnect. Here are my impressions of the day.

Veiled sun sparkling intermittently off the crests of ripples raised by paddling waterfowl. A brighter swath as silver rays blossom beneath heavy gray clouds. Close to shore reflections dapple until bright spots spatter across the dark reflections of trees like spring rain upon the water.

The bright green of grass and oaks interspersed with darker pines above dark water contrast with the hints of blue peering through the white and gray above. Sandstone buildings blend human structure to nature.

Herons stalk the shore. Loose sprinklings of marsh hens hold station effortlessly against a warm, light breeze. Flocks of crows laugh in transit south to north. Mallards take wing on a long practice circuit around the fringes of the lake. Turkey buzzards soar without stirring a wing. A red-tail hawk cruising low, hunting shadows of bass lurking beneath the edges of yellow-green lily pads. A bald eagle circling high, surveying his domain with approval.

We swing lazily back to forth and back again watching kayakers part the scattered flock of marsh hens as they paddle around the lake. A new mother and infant lounge in the shade of the shore enjoying a warm spring-like picnic. Bocce bowlers seek the next intriguing impromptu court for their lightly clacking sport. Joggers, walkers and riders circuit quietly through the landscape. Couples absorb one another like sun in winter sheltered beneath pavilions.

Memories of beauty immersed in a few hours of living. Remember to live the moment.

© 2007 Edward P. Morgan III

Home Safe

----- Original Message -----

Karen is home. Everything went fine. She is doing well, and talking to her mother.

The biopsy the surgeon did of the 3 lymph nodes came back negative, which is very good news. The margins on what the surgeon removed looked good. We won't have the final pathology until the follow-up with the surgeon next week.

Good news all around. Next it's on to an oncologist and radiation.

----- End Original Message -----

Eve of Battle

Weapons have been sharpened, supplies have been laid in. Karen's mandated fast for clarity has almost begun. Now is the waiting time.

Were we a physical company, one with a physical camp, I would be performing a ritual I've performed many times before, wandering from fire to fire in the dark, burning restless energy by reassuring those who were apprehensive about the morning, accepting the conversation and reassurances of those who thought I might need them.

Then I was not responsible for the another, merely a leader elected by my peers, the anxiety of the morning the outcome of a competition, nothing of lasting consequence. Tonight, perhaps there would be a pair of us wandering. Or perhaps I would be sitting with Karen by a fire as others wandered by, reassuring both her and me as has been done through the exchange of electronic messages these past several days.

But we are only a virtual company, so tonight is somewhat different, harder in a way. This is my wandering, my burning of energy in anticipation of the dawn.

Three battles with the dragon have been laid upon our hero, one physical, another magical, the final alchemical. Tomorrow is the first time Karen enters the dragon's lair. The morning brings a physical battle, the battle of steel. This battle is the easiest, the most direct. In this one the dragon will be carved from its lair and slain without a doubt.

Naming it a dragon may be granting it too much power. If it is a dragon, it is a small one, not the white, English dragon of St. George or the red dragon of Wales. This is but a small, young thing, Grendel's mother as an adolescent girl, a thing easily vanquished by razor steel if our vision is correct. Unmolested, it would grow into a powerful beast in time. Time is an ally we mean to deny it. Its fertility is more in question than its survival, its eggs a greater threat.

Tomorrow we cast a divination to reveal whether this dragon is attempting to spawn a reptilian brood. A simple sentinel will be interjected into our story, a clockwork mage to alert us if the perimeter has been breached. If the alarm is raised, the eggs will be excised in the lymph chambers where they lay.

Those eggs will the goal of Karen's second entry into this cavern, this time armed with a potent spell for a battle of magic. An enfeebling ray, a word of power that stuns or kills when repeated like a mantra, egg by egg, so that no future grendels grow to hatch. But that encounter is weeks farther down this road during which Karen will have time to heal from the wounds she will sustain in the morning, however minor they might be. That battle will be one of endurance, a fatiguing day-by-day affair, a campaign of weeks rather than mere hours.

The third battle, if required, mandates the greatest power and, as such, the greatest ally. Before that encounter, we will seek out a powerful alchemist, one who can brew us a deadly potion potent enough to seek out and destroy any remaining eggs no matter how deep in the cave they have been secreted. But that is another battle, weeks distant, one we need not prepare for now, one we may never need to fight if tomorrow augers well.

Those are my musing by this electronic fire as Karen chats with kindred spirits online, stroking her familiar cats. The ethereal voices give her comfort. Soon, it's time for sleep: our day begins before the dawn.

I will send out an update tomorrow once we're home and settled.

© 2007 Edward P. Morgan III

On the Road

----- Original Message -----

We're on the road and headed for our first encounter. So far, the Territory is at least familiar from previous experiences. We're still taking it one step at a time, trying not to focus beyond the horizon.

Karen had her follow-up appointment with the surgeon this morning. She is scheduled for surgery on Monday, 1/15, at Bay Front in St. Pete. We show up at 6 am, with surgery at 10. She should be home by 2 or 3.

We have some details on what to expect and what we're dealing with, though we're not sure what they all mean just yet. We're willing to share those with anyone interested and comfortable with them, but don't want to inflict them on anyone who is not. We're comfortable either way.

Karen's been in a couple breast cancer chatrooms, so has some idea of what to expect from people in various stages, which is quite helpful and supportive. She's picked up a book recommended on one of the websites, which seems like a good reference. We've taken to reading the parts we know apply now and saving the ones that might not for later rather than overloading.

At least we have some football to distract us through the weekend, a normal routine that helps in itself.

I'll send an update once we're settled on Monday. We may know a little more by then. Thanks for the well wishes, thoughts and prayers, and the information and the distractions. We appreciate them all.

----- End Original Message -----

Message 1

A brief preamble: You are the people who have asked to be kept informed of what is going on with Karen. I'm not sure this message will be the norm or how many like it will follow. Certainly, there will be information-only messages and updates, the less fanciful, normal traffic you might expect.

Karen reminded me this morning to write, just to put pen to paper and see what came out. For those who don't know me well, this is how I cope, by writing, reshaping reality with metaphor, carving understanding in allegory. For those not comfortable with my analogies, nearly every work of fiction, however mundane, uses much the same structure and many of the same terms. But ignore that man behind the curtain.

Most people who write about cancer and treatment portray it as a journey, a path none take willingly but many find themselves stumbling along. Me, I see Karen and I as starting out on an adventure. Not the "company of companions out to save the world" variety of more successful writers than myself, more the hero cycle of myth and legend, a classic quest. Some dark and chaotic lich lord has laid a geas upon my wife, setting her a task, a dragon to be slain as it nests in its dark, deep cave awaiting the hatching of its evil brood.

In this casting, Karen is the hero, the central figure, the focus. She is the Celtic warrior queen, the Norse shield-maiden, the Greek amazon in a classical, left-handed sense. This is her quest. Regardless of the guidance we give her and protective spells we weave around her, the final battle is hers and hers alone. This victory, like most, requires intelligence and endurance as much as or more than sheer strength.

I enter as her sidekick, her constant companion, in my case part warrior, part minor mage and not a small part pickpocket and thief, one not above fighting dirty to win, with sharp knives in the dark if necessary. The one who won't leave her side, the one who always guards her back. A Norse skald, a Celtic bard. The one who commits her deeds to paper and, hopefully not literally (for you and me), to song.

Among other roles to be cast are mentors and guardians, shield men and spear carriers, heralds, companions, confidants, perhaps the odd minstrel to be eaten later, each as important as the other. Along the way there will be side adventures, dead ends, ambushes, backtracks, switchbacks, distractions, danger, anxiety and boredom, a lot of anxiety and boredom. Unlike the heroes of screen and page, we don’t have the luxury of skimming past the parts where we're hungry, cold, wet and alone on the road listening to unidentified predators snuffling through the last of our food outside the tent that partially collapsed two hours before in the wind and rain, the bulk of what real-life adventures are made of. That and blisters.

Not all who set out with us will arrive at the destination. This I understand from experience: people, unlike characters, have their own lives, their own crises, their own adventures to face. More will join us along the way, some we've never met before, others long away. All are welcome for as long as they are able to stay.

As with all adventures, we begin by gathering equipment, stocking supplies for uncertain days ahead. With our focus elsewhere, we prepare as if for extended absence or siege. There is rarely time to shop or complete even minor repairs once the ravening hordes encamp outside your door. We settle the house in a way reminiscent of both anticipating a trip and preparing for a hurricane short of locking the doors and boarding the windows. From basics to specialized equipment, pastimes to quick and simple meals, we try to anticipate our needs on the road ahead.

Before setting out into unfamiliar territory, we consult a variety of sages, fellow adventurers, rumor mongers, mercenaries, artisans, apothecaries and cartographers hoping to discover the lay of the terrain, the trials to be faced, the obstacles to be overcome. We consult tomes, some well thumbed, others quite dusty, in search of a weakness in our enemy, perhaps the incomplete portion of a map. Divinations in the form of lab tests are cast, bribes as co-payments are paid, drinks in chatrooms are bought to loosen reluctant tongues.

Armed with knowledge, good portents, a sharp knife and a stout walking stick, we armor ourselves for this long, perhaps dangerous path, dressing for both comfort and protection, shielding ourselves behind both hide and mail, remembering comfortable shoes. After all, the journey of the thousand miles begins beneath our feet.

I hope you walk with us a while.

© 2007 Edward P. Morgan III

Cancer

----- Original Message -----

I didn't want to mention anything until we knew something, but Karen had her mammogram the week before Christmas and they saw something they didn't like. She went for a biopsy the next week. We got the results Thursday.

It is cancer.

I was pretty sure when we first went in that the doctor suspected something given a couple pauses I heard to questions I asked, as well as looks and postures. I hadn't said anything to Karen.

The encouraging thing the surgeon repeated was that this was a "nuisance level" thing: treatable and recoverable. It's early, it's small and it has well defined margins, all of which are positive. We are waiting on the results indicating what type of cancer (aggressive or not). She (the surgeon) didn't have back the specifics on the cancer, as I believe the lab first exams the biopsy under the microscope to see if it's cancer, then does stains, slides and further examination to determine what type. We should have more information at her follow-up appointment this coming Thursday, (1/11).

Karen had an MRI Friday to get a better look. Surgery (hopefully just a lumpectomy) will be in 2-3 weeks. The MRI will show whether there are any other lumps (they surveyed both breasts), as well as whether there is any contamination of the lymph nodes. If it's just one lump, even if there is something in the lymph nodes, the lumpectomy should the option. The lymph nodes only determine whether the surgeon does a lymph node dissection and whether Karen needs chemotherapy afterwards as I understand it. She will need radiation after surgery regardless I believe.

We stopped on the way home from the appointment for lunch and at the craft store to pick some stuff up, like any other day. It is sinking in, but one step at a time. We’ve been spending the weekend doing some of the maintenance around the house in preparation for the next few weeks, as well as stocking groceries for us and the cats. Something to distract us as well as prepare for when she can't and I won't want to for taking care of her. Fortunately, we're mostly caught up, though there are a couple things that need to be done before May.

Karen spent the morning before her appointment playing with a Japanese painting set I gave her for Christmas. She's had quite the urge to create recently, which is a good outlet. Karen is always doing something with her hands, crocheting, tatting, stained glass. She likes painting but doesn't get to do it often. We're deciding where to go on a vacation after this is over. She thinks she either wants to go on a tour of the canyons out west, or to Norway (we have a friend from college who lives in Oslo). Something positive to look forward to.

That's what I know at the moment. We'll keep you posted.

----- End Original Message -----

Glossary

I’ve been told that I have given many people’s dictionaries a workout. Mostly, these were just the words that came to mind, some after many years in hiding. Other times, they were cool words I run across. A few uniquely described what I'm after. I’ve included the ones I think people might be least familiar with.

• Adjuvant therapy – Chemo and radiation treatments after surgery for cancer
• Adriamycin – A chemo drug, aka The Red Devil, the A in AC treatments
• Agora – An ancient Greek marketplace, a place of gathering and congregation
• Amnestic – Relating to amnesia
• Apothecary – Someone who makes medicines, a medieval pharmacist
• Aranesp – A red blood cell booster, specifically for hemoglobin
• Armillary sphere – an old astronomical model using a solid rings to show the relationships among principal celestial circles
• Arimidex - a chemo drug in pill form taken for 5 years after treatment, taken by post-menopausal survivors
• Axillary lymph node dissection – A procedure where a surgeon takes out several levels of lymph nodes around the sentinel node to look for cancer
• Bailey – The courtyard in a castle enclosed by the wall, sometimes the wall itself
• Ballista – A medieval siege engine shaped like a giant crossbow that hurls stones or spears
• Barbican – The fortification of a castle over a gate or drawbridge
• Beltane – A Celtic festival and fertility rite celebrated on May 1
• Birkenau – A WWII Nazi concentration camp, a part of Auschwitz
• Black Friars – Dominican monks
• Boudicca – A Celtic queen who led a major revolt against the Romans in Britain after she was flogged and her daughters were raped by their soldiers as punishment
• Buckskin – A grayish yellow horse
• Byzantine - characterized by intrigue. Scheming or devious
• Caduceus – The staff representing the medical profession with two snakes entwined below a pair of wings, the symbol of Hermes
• Caer – The Welsh word for fortress
• Caernarfon – A medieval castle in Wales
• Cairn – A mound of stones used to mark and cover communal graves
• Cassandra – In Greek mythology, a princess of Troy who had the gift of prophecy but was cursed to never being believed
• Charger – A cavalry horse
• Chestnut – A reddish brown horse
• Circe – A sorceress from The Odyssey
• Coruscating – Flashing, sparkling, glittering
• Courser – A swift cavalry horse
• Cytoxan – A chemo drug, aka The Clear, the C in AC treatments
• Demesne – A realm or domain
• Destrier – A war horse
• Difference engine – A mechanical computer designed by Charles Babbage
• Donjon – The fortified tower of a castle, the keep or last line of defense
• Doomsday Book – The written record of the census of England taken by William the Conqueror after the Norman Conquest
• Dovecote – a place where doves and pigeons are housed, usually a separate domed structure on a castle bailey
• Dragon*Con – A very large science fiction and fantasy convention held in Atlanta every year over Labor Day. Karen’s chosen reward vacation after treatment
• Exchequer – A British treasury dating to medieval times
• Eyrie – A hawk’s or eagle’s nest on a cliff, a stronghold built on a height. A griffin’s nest
• Falchion – A type of heavy sword
• Fortnight – Two weeks
• Fyrd - An Anglo-Saxon home guard of free farmers
• Garderobe – A private chamber in a castle, usually containing a latrine that empties outside the wall
• Golem – A creature in Jewish mythology created from clay and other natural elements then imbued with life
• Glyph – An arcane, magic symbol usually of protection
• Granulocytes - A type of white blood cell, one of the many markers in detailed blood tests
• Greaves – leg armor worn on the shins
• Greek fire – A potently incendiary substance used by the Byzantine Greeks, whose formula has been lost
• Grendel – The monster from the Old English epic poem Beowulf
• Griffin – A mythological creature with the body of a lion, and the head, talons and wings of an eagle. Heraldic symbol on the Morgan family crest
• Geas – A powerful spell commanding a quest that must be fulfilled
• Hercepton – A chemo drug that Karen didn’t need
• Hoarding – A temporary wooden structure atop a castle’s wall to protect its defenders
• Hobbyhorse – A small horse or pony (before it became the word for a toy or rocking horse)
• Homunculus – A diminutive human-like creature created by a sorcerer, sometimes believed to be a demon or familiar
• Hospitallers – A medieval, military order of knights dedicated to caring for the sick
• Housecarls – Household troops or bodyguards of a medieval Danish or Anglo-Saxon lord
• Indulgence – A medieval practice of absolving sins before they are committed, usually involving money
• Interdict – A Catholic a ritual like excommunication only over an entire region
• Interstice – A small or narrow space between parts
• Irenic - promoting peace, conciliatory
• Issus – A decisive battle where Alexander the Great defeated Darius III that is still studied in military academies
• Larder – A pantry in a castle
• Legerdemain – Slight of hand
• Leukocytes - A type of white blood cell, one of the many markers in detailed blood tests
• Lich – A powerful undead sorcerer. Derives from corpse in Old English
• Lumpectomy – A procedure where a surgeon removes only a cancerous lump and some of the surrounding tissue
• Lycanthropy – The magical ability to change oneself into a wolf or other animal
• Lymphedema – A condition that causes swelling of an extremity due to damage of the lymph system, one of Karen’s side effects
• Maid of Orleans – Joan of Arc
• Matins – A nighttime hour of prayer in a Catholic monastery
• Medecins Sans Frontieres – The French for Doctors without Borders
• Monocytes – A type of white blood cell, one of the many markers in detailed blood tests
• Morrigan – The Irish goddess of battle, strife and fertility. One of three primary Irish gods/goddesses of war
• Murder – A flock of crows
• Mutagenic – A chemical or substance that causes mutations
• Naphthalene – A chemical used in explosives, also the fumigant in mothballs
• Napier's bones – A set of rods used to perform multiplication
• Necromancer – An evil sorcerer who specializes in spells dealing with the dead
• Nepenthe - A potion easing pain and inducing amnesia, a remedy for grief
• Neulasta – A bone marrow stimulant
• Neupogen – A white blood cell booster
• Nibelung – In Norse mythology, a race of dwarves that hoarded riches and magic rings, specifically one of the dwarves in Wagner’s Ring Cycle
• Nightshade – A poisonous plant used in medieval potions
• Norns – The Norse goddesses of fate, similar to the Greek Fates
• Orrery – A mechanical model of the solar system
• Ossuary – A container or stone box to hold the bones of the dead
• Palfrey – A saddle horse, usually for a woman
• Poor Clares – Franciscan nuns
• Port – A medical device installed beneath the skin just under the collarbone that gives direct access to a vein, used to inject chemo drugs and for drawing blood
• Postern– A small gate in the side or rear of a castle used as a sally port for sorties
• Prime - An early morning hour of prayer in a Catholic monastery
• Receptor 25 – The site one of the steroids bonds to prevent allergic reactions to one of the chemo drugs
• Rouncey – An all-purpose horse trained for riding or war
• "Rule Britannia" – A British patriotic song heard when a movie or TV show is set in London that English soccer fans sing in disturbing numbers
• Scry – To predict the future or spy upon someone using a crystal ball
• Sentinel node biopsy – A procedure during a lumpectomy where a surgeon removes and examine the lymph nodes nearest a lump for cancer
• Sigil - An arcane, magic symbol, usually a signet or picture
• Simulacrum – a simulation or representation, usually a small doll or statue
• Skald – A medieval Viking poet, like a bard
• Sortilege – To foretell the future by drawing lots
• Surcoat – A tunic marked with a soldier or knight’s heraldic symbol
• Tamoxifen – a chemo drug in pill form taken for 5 years after treatment, taken by pre-menopausal survivors
• Taxol - A chemo drug
• Taxotere – A chemo drug, The Crystal, the T treatment
• Technetium – A radioactive metal used in medical scans
• Tellurion – A mechanical apparatus showing how the Earth rotates and revolves causing day and night
• Thaumaturgist – A sorcerer specializing in miracles or magic feats
• Trebuchet – A large, medieval siege engine with an arm that hurls heavy stones, seen in the movie Kingdom of Heaven.
• Valhalla – The hall where the Norse god Odin receives the best Viking warriors killed in combat in preparation for the last battle
• Valkyries – Odin’s handmaidens who conduct warriors killed in battle to Valhalla, fierce female Viking warriors called the Choosers of the Slain
• Vespers - An early evening hour of prayer in a Catholic monastery
• Ward – The courtyard of a castle enclosed by its walls
• Water gate – A castle gate opening to a dock on a river or sea, usually used for resupply during a siege
• Woad – A natural, blue, medieval dye

My Valkyrie

Karen

October 2010

Glossary of Symbols

Originally, I put this together as a guide for my great uncle, who I was sending printouts of the messages in batches by snail-mail. I figure most people will get these, but if not, here is some of what I meant.

• The Amazons are the other patients and survivors, especially a local group called the BC Warriors. Amazons were a greatly feared tribe of women warriors in Greek mythology, reputed to have cut off their right breast so it wouldn’t interfere with their bowstrings. Like the legend, these are not women to be trifled with.
• The ambushes are the radiation treatments.
• The armor is Karen’s sleeve for the lymphedema, usually.
• The artillerist the medical oncologist.
• The artillerist's assistants are the oncology nurses.
• The balloon came from a friend of ours who took a balloon ride and sent us the pictures one morning, which acted as an inspiration.
• The captain-general the surgeon.
• The challenge and individual combat are the surgeries.
• The clear is Cytoxan, which is clear and not as bad as chemotherapy drugs go.
• The couriers carry email, sometimes cards, flowers and edible arrangements.
• The crystal is Taxotere.
• The data mines are all the various scans and tests.
• The dwarves are the various technicians running scans and tests.
• The dwarven lord is our insurance company.
• The elementals are hot flashes.
• The girls are the granulocytes, a kind of white blood cell in the bloodwork. They are the a measure of how many new white blood cells are forming.
• The glass balls fired by the trebuchet are the IV bags contain the Taxotere. They were inspired by seeing the nurses use a different plastic to hold the Taxotere as it would react with the normal IV bag plastic. That plastic looked much more shiny and clear to me.
• The glyphs are the 3 bluish-purple tattoos the radio-oncologist put on Karen's side and chest to properly align the beam. They are just small dots but still visible.
• Greek fire, or the Red Devil as the nurses called it, is Adriamycin. The nurses really did use elbow length gloves when they prepared it. Scary.
• The gremlins (with their bludgeons) are the soreness after the Taxotere and the radiation treatments.
• The grendel is the cancer. Sometimes, I talk about the grendel as a dragon, other times as a troll or ogre.
• The grendel's eggs are recurrences or metastases, which is the point of the chemo and radiation.
• The griffin really is the heraldic symbol of the Morgan family in Wales. A banner emblazoned with a griffin that Karen made for me back in college hangs behind me in my office.
• The hemogoblins are somewhat strange as I have them as allies of the grendel but in truth a side effect of chemotherapy. (the word hemogoblin was suggested by a friend of ours, I think misreading something I wrote).
• The horses, well, Karen likes horses so they had to be in there.
• The imps that replace her salt with copper are a side effect of chemo that changes the way foods taste.
• Isolation is both the physical isolation of not seeing people because of low white counts and sometimes the mental isolation of people not communicating. The latter can be the hardest to deal with.
• The keep alternates between the house and Karen herself, often within the same message.
• Lycanthropy is the change that this experience causes within you, sometimes the way you feel as it changes the way you see the world. As I said, some people are funny in the way they deal with this and shun you like a monster or a werewolf.
• The mage-general the medical oncologist.
• The mercenaries are any of a number of doctors, nurses and technicians (all very compassionate, but also paid for their services).
• The necromancers are the side effects of chemotherapy that cause memory loss and mood changes.
• The old veterans are the lymphocytes, another kind of white blood cell in the bloodwork.
• The pigeons are the email messages.
• The pots fired by the trebuchet are the IV bags containing the chemo drugs.
• The priest the medical oncologist.
• The ray in its many forms, enfeebling, magical or coruscating, is the radiation.
• The red company is Karen’s red blood cell count.
• The sally port is the port the surgeon put in to inject chemo drugs and extract blood.
• The siege is chemo, also at times the isolation at the house.
• The sorcerer-engineer is the radiation oncologist.
• The tower keep or the donjon is the hospital.
• The trebuchet is chemotherapy, maybe more precisely, the needle.
• The undead army that could take over the white company is leukemia.
• The water gate is the backyard (with the birdbath) that borders on the ditch.
• The white company is Karen’s white blood cell count.

Karen looking toward the future

October 2010