Luminous Blue

Category: Elizabeth Blue’s Memoir Essays

  • Welcome to the Arizona Cancer Center

    11.9.11

    Elizbeth Blue
    Elizabeth Blue, 2010, before cancer

    ‘Welcome to the Arizona Cancer Center’

    An emotional reaction and relog of my first experience at the Arizona Cancer Center when I was sent there to have blood drawn before chemo on Friday.  Today (11.9.11) is Wednesday.  I am very swollen and can’t breathe that well.

    “Welcome to the Arizona Cancer Center if that’s appropriate…?”
    “This is her first time here”
    “Would you like entertainment? I have some singing dogs in my office.”
    What.
    “I have five Chihuahuas at home.  Do you have any dogs”
    “No a cat.”
    “Peggy can you help me with this?”
    “I have slippery veins”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    Peggy is bobbing around and won’t stop trying to find different ways to look into my eyes.
    They’re swelling up with tears.  ‘welcome to the Arizona cancer center, if that’s appropriate.’  ‘This is her first time’ ‘welcome to the Arizona cancer center, if that’s appropriate.’ ‘ This is her first time.’
    Tears well up behind my swollen eyes and I hope they can pretend along with me that I’m crying cause they’ve got a needle in my arm and are moving it around hoping to poke a vein, hoping to hit time saving gold.
    They will.
    “I just had surgery yesterday”
    WHAT
    “I mean the day before.  I had an IV in”
    “You have one in now?”
    “No they took it out, it was in my right arm.”

    A woman behind a curtain is wheeled out.  She has one eye or a bandage over one eye but I can only see one eye.  She is pale and large and her arms don’t fit in her wheelchair.  I think she’s wearing maroon.  
    “They destroyed my arms in the hospital” She says, to no one in particular.

    “Who is your Doctor?”  Peggy asks.  
    Dr. Miller
    “Dr. Tom Miller”
    “Oooh the best.”
    Yes.  The best.

    The other one brushes my hair away from my shoulder, or maybe this is before, when I first sat down.
    “Such pretty hair”
    “Thank you.”
    It is pretty, its long and soft and just the right color of fawn brown and the way my bangs frame my face is the way it looks best and how the fuck am I supposed to live without it.
    It will be gone soon.

    ‘Welcome to the arizona cancer center, if that’s appropriate.’
    ‘Its her first time’

    “Can you hold this for me?”
    I wipe a tear with make up in it.  There is blood on my finger from the gauze I was holding on my arm.

    ‘Welcome to the arizona cancer center.  This is her first time.’

    A old woman who is also a patient asked if I liked purple earlier but I was wearing blue and said yes because she was probably an angel and even so I wasn’t that nice to her.

    “What’s your cat’s name?”
    “Blue”
    I’m changing my last name to Blue to match his and maybe if I change my name the cancer will go away my mom’s girlfriend says.

    “Male or female?
    “Male”
    “Peggy can you help me, its nearby there right?” Twist twist twist needle in my arm.
    “There, look its in.  Male or female?”
    “Male”
    “What kind of cat?”
    “Bengal”
    “Oh my god I used to have a bengal!  They are the best cats.
    “Yes, they’re very smart”
    They are.
    “Well maybe she”
    HE
    “can give you some comfort in this time.  You might even want to get a little treat for him or her since she will be helping you so much.”
    “Yes”
    Maybe some chicken.
    “You know what my cats used to love?  I would get them a whole plant of catnip.  They loved that, I would put it in a planter, they would love that.”
    “Yes, they really do love catnip”  I’m sobbing now.  There is a man asking where to go, they say he could go outside if he wanted.  
    “Its too cold, its under 90 degrees.”
    No really, he’s serious.
    “I thought it was nice out” The nurse says quietly to me.
    I would have killed killed killed brutally with an axe to get to breath this kind of air had they kept me in the hospital one more day.  Had they kept me inside I would have killed killed killed myself with the infectious danger of cold air to feel it pulsate through my lungs.
    “I think its nice out today too.”
    We talk more about the weather.  She’s blond from West Virginia.
    “You have the good tape” When she starts to bandage my arm
    How the fuck, did I learn in 5 days the different kinds of tape used to cover gauze and why they are good?
    “Yes, I heard they were using it on horses for years before they even thought to use it on humans.”
“Wow.”
    “You can go now.”
    “Ok. Thank you.”  Peggy is nowhere to be seen.
    I don’t know if  I should say ‘thank you, I’ll see you later’ or just ‘thank you good-bye’ so I just say thank you and rush outside because I just remembered I am a feeling being and that I’m crumbling to pieces and I’m still whole inside and these people aren’t and that woman I wasn’t nice enough to in the lobby was probably an angel goddess sent by my ancestors or god and when she left she said to her husband/son ‘c’mon let’s give this youngin some privacy’ and I realized then and felt guilty.  

    And I have not seen a single person here within ten years of my age except the receptionist and she smiled at me like she was going to eat me alive like a spider meal with all her fake overblown kindness and handed me a buzzer like I’m at a restaurant and wouldn’t let me go outside or do anything except offer me some coffee or tea but coffee weakens your goddamn immune system bitch and I’m trying to strengthen mine because I’m going to have chemo soon and that’s why I’m quitting smoking, duh, to strengthen my immune system and that’s why I’m not getting my gorgeous tattoo worked on that my mom thinks may have caused the cancer.  All because one of my doctors (Dr. Brown) who I like and trust as much as you can like and trust a person you have talked to for maybe an hour total and only met twice and along with her ‘presiding, Dr. Miller (the best)’ she is supposed to save my life.  I’m doing all these things to boost my immune system because she says they will help me to not get an infection during chemo and therefore will stay alive.
    
And I’m sitting here writing this in my slutty halter top dress with my bleached out jean jacket and cowboy boots and cheap sunglasses and runny make up and you could see my bandage covering the cut from the biopsy if I removed my jacket but that’s fine.  I’m sitting here dressed like this because its how I always dress so fuck you.  And I’m sitting here with make up dried up and down my face waiting waiting waiting until its time to go to a different hospital and get my heart checked to see if it can withstand chemo (they think it can).  And I’m writing because I realized that’s what Mehron and Ava and I would all do in that situation and that this is a part of me now and I am a writer and I will write it all.  

    And because I remembered that I am a whole living, breathing, feeling, animal, being.  
    And that I am sensitive to emotions and things and one eyed people and needles and surgery around and in me.  And that this place is crazy and maybe I’m not so I need to relay it to you all.
    And also because the difference between the visionary and the crazy person is that the visionary comes back.  I’m trying to remember this.
    As I sit on this beautiful day in the garden of the

    ‘welcome to the arizona cancer center, if that’s appropriate?’
    No, its not.
    ‘its her fist time’

    ‘welcome to the arizona cancer center, if that’s appropriate?
    No its not.
    ‘She has a cat.’

    ‘welcome to the arizona caner center, if that’s appropriate?’
    ‘Its her first time’
    No its not.

    ‘if that’s appropriate?’
    ‘If that’s appropriate…?’
    ‘If that’s appropriate.’
    ‘if that’s appropriate if that’s appropriate if that’s appropriate if that’s appropriate if that’s appropriate if that’s appropriate.

    No its not.

    “Welcome to the Arizona Cancer Center!”
    “No its not.”

    ~Elizabeth Blue ©

  • My emails the first week of Elizabeth’s last year: November, 2011

    These are the emails I sent to family and a few close friends when we were in the first week of discovering that Elizabeth had cancer.

    Saturday, November 5, 2011

    Hi all,
    I am writing because Elizabeth is in the hospital today, waiting to have a biopsy on a mass that is in her chest.  She’s in great spirits, with a positive attitude and just mainly having a hard time waiting for results, and wanting to be home.  She’s been having swelling in her upper body, and some pain, and for a few weeks no one could figure out what was going on, so it’s nice to have some of the mystery solved at least.  We are grateful that Ann Marie (our family friend and Elizabeth’s integrative doctor) is close by to support us in this process.  We don’t know what it is, though it’s about the size of her heart, and we are hoping that it’s a benign tumor that can easily be removed.

    I am asking you to hold her in your prayers, asking for the most benevolent outcome, whatever will serve her soul’s highest purpose…

    Elizabeth feels strongly that she doesn’t want people to be worrying and would like to keep all energy as positive as possible. Thank you!

    love,
    Lucia

    Sunday, November 6, 2011

    Hi everyone,
    here’s the latest update – Elizabeth is scheduled for surgery tomorrow afternoon (Monday).

    She asked that we all pray for a miracle, that the tumor be benign, that it be easily treated and removed.  All prayers, love and good wishes are welcome!

    Thank you thank you thank you.
    love,

    Lucia

    Thursday, November 10, 2011

    (to her acuptuncturist) Elizabeth has a large mass in her upper chest, right side, in front, wrapped around her vena cava.  She was at UMC til Tues eve, after they did a biopsy and confirmed the diagnosis of lymphoma.

    today she was supposed to have a port inserted, to start chemo tomorrow at the cancer center, working with Tom Miller (we haven’t met him yet but the Fellow who works with him, Ursa Brown, followed E at umc and she’s great – he’s supposed to be the best in the country for lymphoma, and there are some integrative oncologists there as well). they couldn’t do the port due to the location of the tumor, so had to do a picc line instead.  she’s doing mostly really well, dealing with the pain ok, and emotionally mostly pretty well… with some meltdowns too.  we’re all in shock and moving thru our emotions as best we can.  I’m feeling my way thru how much to take care of her and how much to let her be independent, which is tricky. but she’s pretty clear about what she needs and so far i’m comfortable with supporting her in all those ways.

    energy and prayers are welcome. i know there’s a naturopathic oncologist in town, but haven’t gotten that far yet.  it feels like doing the first chemo is primary, and hopefully will give some relief from the symptoms, esp the swelling, and then i can begin researching complementary things.  also our integrative md friend is working on those angles too…

    L

    Saturday, November 12, 2011

    Hi everyone,
    thanks so much for your emails, prayers and love.

    It’s been a busy week, with lots of tests, iv access line placed, etc…Friday, yesterday, was packed: we met Elizabeth’s main doctor, and the final pathology report confirmed what they’d believed- “large B cell non-hodgkins lymphoma, mediastinal mass” which means a type of lymphoma that’s located in her mediastinal lymph node, right in the center of her chest.  The mass is pressing on the a major vein, so she’s continuing to have lots of swelling in her face and neck, which is the hardest thing for her right now.  The cancer is fast growing, but not spread anywhere else, both of which are good, as it is expected to respond well and quickly to the chemo medication. They did a bone marrow biopsy yesterday as well, but they are not expecting anything  to show up there.

    Elizabeth started chemo yesterday too, with lots of additional meds to help prevent side effects.  They stopped partway through, as she had a slight reaction to one of the drugs, which is very common.  Today she’s receiving it with no problem, sleeping deeply.  She will receive treatment as an outpatient every 3 weeks, and we’ll see how she does with the side effects, hopefully she’ll feel great and be able to go to school.

    Greg (Elizabeth’s father who lives in Berkeley) has been here since Weds and Elizabeth now has a really clean home, with food and clean laundry and filled with love. It’s been great to have his support for her.

    I’m also so grateful for all Zelie (my partner) is doing – taking care of me, our animals and our home, as well as being with Elizabeth…

    love, Lucia

  • Out of the Blue

    On Friday, November 4, 2011, my world completely changed. My older daughter Elizabeth, 21 at that time, called me as I was finishing a qi gong class at home.  She was in tears, having trouble breathing and said something was wrong, she was in so much pain she was headed to the Student Health Center again.  I knew it was serious, as this girl doesn’t cry, and has a very high pain threshold. I immediately said I’d meet her there, jumped in the car and tried to center and calm myself as I drove.  As I walked in to find her, the kind doctor was telling her to go to the ER at UMC.  We asked if she could go home, drop off her car and pick up a few things, and he said yes, but not to delay.  He also called ahead and made sure she knew to tell them she was having chest pain, so she’d be seen quickly.  Apparently he had a very good idea that she had mediastinal non-Hodgkins lymphoma from looking at her, as her face and neck were quite swollen, and that a large tumor wrapped around a vein was causing the swelling. She’d been having pain in her right upper chest for weeks that another doctor had been dismissing as allergies, and treating her with prednisone.

    We didn’t learn the exact diagnosis until after her biopsy on Monday. However within hours of arriving at the ER, her chest x-ray showed us a large mass in her chest, about the size of her heart, just to the right of it. It was shocking to see. Elizabeth was healthy – she’d rarely been sick, had been treated with homeopathic remedies most of her childhood, ate organic whole foods, was a vegetarian since age 14 and had been a dedicated yoga student much of her life. How could she have a mass the size of her fist in her chest? How could she have cancer?!

    Our dear friend Ann Marie, Elizabeth’s doctor, came to sit with us as we waited hours for her be admitted.  I walked outside with her at some point, and started sobbing on her shoulder, “no, no, no, no, no….!” I was worried about all kinds of things, from the cost of the yet unknown treatment and her limited insurance cap, to her being able to complete her semester as a junior at the U of A, to how she would cope emotionally with the diagnosis of cancer, but I did NOT think she would die. That was not in my world of possibilities yet. I couldn’t even imagine my world without Elizabeth.

    We were moved very slowly and gently into that reality, and for that I am deeply grateful. For the eleven months we had after this day, nine of them believing and trusting that she would have a full recovery and live a long, healthy life, and the last two months knowing she would die, I am grateful. Every moment was a blessing. She and I did a lifetime of healing in that time, she lived fully and richly, and in the end, she became love itself, showering us all with love, and in a state of grace that I’m blessed to have experienced in this lifetime.

  • Bird’s Nest

    This was written by Elizabeth in June, 2010, 17 months before she was diagnosed with lymphoma.  She was preparing to leave Tucson for Seattle.  She did not consciously know she would die just over 2 years later, though some part of her clearly did.

    The image is the artwork on which she based the tattoo on the back of her right thigh.  She loved this tattoo and was only able to get the outline completed before she was diagnosed.  Once she started chemo in November of 2011, she was advised to wait until chemo was completed to have the color done, and the tattoo was never finished.

    Elizabeth Blue's Bird's Nest