Happy Tuesday!
First, I cannot believe it’s June. Also, I’m sure everyone is quite sick of these update emails – my jokes definitely got worse as the past few months showed their cards so I apologize if my attempts at lightheartedness fell slightly flat. As it turns out, the reality is (should have listened to Samantha from SATC), the big C isn’t quite as hilarious as we thought. While there were definitely moments of pure hilarity (the number of days in a row a member of our family went to the grocery store has got to be a record), let’s just say it’s more of a “dramedy” than a comedy – although I really tried to push for the latter.
Those of you reading who have dealt with an illness of this magnitude likely think I’ve lost it (note: I have), but many of you who know the Kernan’s can assume we approached Mom’s trip to Cancertopia with the same fashion forward, all-hands-on-deck, wedding planner pizzazz as one would Paris Fashion week. I mean, barring medical jargon and extremely grumpy nurses, both are pretty much giant cluster****s where everyone is hungry – so we weren’t entirely off base. Here are a few vignettes illuminating the upsides to handling cancer as if we were in a Nancy Myers film:
Treatment centers, oncologists, and opinions OH MY! One of the hardest things when you get cancer (not that I would know, but I’m spitballing here) is choosing the treatment team. AKA who the hell are we gonna trust to get this thing gone without disrupting life, love and the pursuit of all things Deb. For most, getting into the top docs is an arduous task (cue Samantha pimping out Smith Jared to get an appointment.. I promise no more SATC references). But per usual, Mom took on the task of “how” with fervent focus. We did some East Coast doctor dating (Gtown hospital could use a makeover), some west coast doctor interviews (west coasters are potentially less friendly than east coasters, more research needed to say definitively)… and as always, Mom expertly managed to assemble such an amazing treatment team close to Mercer Island that even I couldn’t complain about during her 7 weeks of treatment. Truly a miracle. If the CEO of Cancer was a “thing,” Mom would not only hold the title but would be buying Whole Foods and tweeting about it in a jocular fashion from Seattle Cancer Care Center’s ergonomically sound waiting room chairs. #bezosaintgotnothinondeb
The clothes! Anyone who knows mom well surely knows that the woman loves clothes. Mommer prides herself on her exceptionally well curated closet, and who can argue? Deb’s got style. My sisters and I would know… we’ve been stealing from it since 1994. Because radiation involves daily dates with your oncologist at your respective treatment center, Mom made a point to not wear an outfit twice. Not only did she look like Audrey Hepburn arriving for treatment, she received compliment after compliment from other patients who would applaud each “look” and inquire about it’s origin (usually Karen’s store, Sandy Banks… it’s the bomb)… just add a hot pastrami sandwich on rye and a seasonally appropriate backdrop and Deb’s working a Sleepless in Seattle with a side of You’ve Got (ALL THE) Mail (from the east coast cause Brynn won’t stop sending asinine update emails to your friends) vibe. #boss
Productivity. My first trip out to see Mom whilst she was undergoing treatment was such a blast I extended it twice. Three weeks into radiation? No big deal for Mom, radiation was just a pit stop on the way to lunch or nails or whatever we might have planned for our morning and early afternoon. Who isn’t tired by 3pm? So afternoons were devoted to some work, some gossip (never!) and watching Say Yes to the Dress – a show so dynamic I hope it’s saved in a time capsule for humans thousands of years from now to know exactly what makes real woman (and transgender men) tick (I’m not kidding). The cards and flowers that arrived (and continue to arrive) daily provided the perfect break for a Trader Joe’s jaunt – my second favorite activity in Seattle after watching Say Yes to the Dress with Mom – followed by cocktails (for me and other guests) and evening news. Likely it’s Mom’s company or maybe bc in New York grocery shopping is a contact sport, the days were pure mother-daughter bliss. #hostesswiththemostest #downisthenewblack #clogsonclogs #somuchactivewearsolittletime
Weekends with Cancer? Hell no. Mom impeccably planned weekend trips to various Pacific Northwest hotspots – Victoria, Friday Harbor to name a few – where she and dad solo took in the sights or, when I came to town and wouldn’t leave, Dad and I acted like total idiots. Mother’s Day, namely, I can honestly say was one of my favorite trips ever. Mom and I picked out my first “real” piece of artwork – hello 30th bday! – and spent the day walking around and exploring. I can somewhat accurately assume Mom didn’t feel too great and she likely had had quite enough of my nonstop chatter and constant eating – but Mom, Dad, Scott and I sat at brunch that Sunday for hours talking and laughing.. a day I’ll never forget. Somehow Mommer always powers through to make you feel like you’re the most important person, she defies the laws of science and has more strength the every woman in all of my favorite chick flicks put together. Basically she’s the Meryl Streep of Moms and never wavered in her positive outlook and attitude. #theoscargoestodeb #bestMom
The texting Queen: one of the hardest parts of Mom’s treatment for me (and this is all about me, after all) was not hearing Mom’s voice on the phone. As the side effects increased, Mom continued to exude positivity but asked that we just text instead of call. As you all know, Mom is my personal consultant on life so you can imagine the improved dexterity I now have since texting the Mommer as much as possible at all times of day. In all seriousness, though, Mom crushed treatment, greatly exceeded expectations as far as immediate results (tumor shrinkage) are concerned, and in the meantime planned a much needed trip to Hawaii in July and continued to make herself available as the family’s 24/7 life consultant. Her usual response when I asked how she was feeling on a particular day… “Okay ” – I will never not associate the cool dude emoji with mom kicking cancer’s ass. The text Queen? Maybe. An actual Queen? Definitely. #queenforlife
I’d say Nancy has got some material there for her next movie. And she needs to get on it.. I’ve rewatched It’s Complicated and Something’s Gotta Give so many times it’s embarrassing. Alas, Mom has completed treatment and is on the mend. Like we mentioned in the last email, the side effects continue and make talking and eating difficult (ah!) and basically suck in general. I literally cannot imagine not talking and not being able to consume pizza 4 nights a week – the fact that Mom remains vehemently herself is unbelievable and a testament to how strong she is. In speaking with medical staff after the fact (late in treatment or recently), we’ve been told this is one of the hardest treatments to go through, the side effects some of the worst one can endure in undergoing cancer treatments, and ultimately, takes a huge personal toll on the patient.
I don’t want to speak for Mom, but I know this has been incredibly hard and likely a more difficult journey than anticipated. It seems there’s no prep for having your voice and strength siphoned from you bit by bit seemingly under the guise of treatment. Like my dad said in my previous update, watching Mom go through this makes me want to immediately offer myself in her stead, to bear some if not all of the pain she’s going through, and hasten her recovery time so that she can get back to living her life – and there’s no greater example of someone who loves life and quite simply is really great at it.
As far as how things are going currently.. I was with Mom last week and she’s slowly improving and in good spirits! Neck skin is healing up beautifully and she is eating more each day. The minor setback of a knee issue has almost cleared up and she’s back on her feet doing laundry and other fun activities. Because the side effects continue for a few weeks after treatment, Mom isn’t doing the 100 yard dash just yet (although her doctors continue to say how great she is doing compared to other patients – she literally kicked treatment’s ass and is over the hump of the side effects), but every day seems just a bit better than the one before it and given Hawaii is coming up – I know Mom will be back in action soon. If you didn’t catch Dad’s latest instagram photo of Mom taking a boat cruise this past weekend, check it out – cancer or no cancer she’s a total babe.
Keep pulling for Mommer, she’s almost there. The flowers and cards that you all send line the living room and brighten up every surface of the Seattle house. Thank you to those who sent pages for Mom’s scrapbook, it’s truly a masterful piece of foolery and everyone freakin’ nailed it. Mom and Lissy are having girls Seattle week this week – and Shea and John will descend into SeaTac on Friday for the Fourth! As we round the final base and finally catch sight of the end of this chapter, my family’s continued thanks cannot be reiterated enough. It’s been a whirlwind of emotion and pain during this turbulent year for the family and I’m certain everyone reading has made each day that much better and more bearable by simply supporting my mom and our family with thoughts, prayers, cards, and gifts. I really hate the saying “it takes a village” – but it’s spot on. You’re part of Mom’s village. All I can say is thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
Brynn
The Dog Hair Diaries 