Ten Years

In the fifteen minutes that it took me to drive to work this morning, judging by the scenery flying by my window at seventy miles an hour, I could have been driving for hours. 

When I pulled out of our little neighborhood, I had a spectacular view of the Appalachian Mountains looming dark in their shroud of early morning fog, not yet tinged by the hint of dawn. The moon was just above the ridge, so large that it looked like a paper cut-out pasted onto a child’s drawing. I’ve read that there is some sort of atmospheric phenomenon at play that makes the moon appear so much larger, but I was able to turn off my sometimes over-analytic mind and just enjoy it.

I hit the patches of fog as I pulled onto the bypass and drove through small patches of dense fog interspersed by increasingly bright patches of early morning light. By the time that I crossed from the bypass to the interstate, now heading directly East, I could see the brilliant red of a beautiful sunrise over the Blue Ridge Mountains.

The patches of fog were less frequent, the sky brighter as I drove on and, by the time that I pulled into the parking lot at work, the sky was light blue and the sun was shining.

The only thing that could have made the drive to work more beautiful this morning was for it to have happened after the brown grass turned green again and the trees were more than bare limbs scratching the sky. As much as I complain about the conservative people in the Valley, it’s hard to beat its natural beauty.

Thinking about the changes in such a short distance on my way to work made me think about the distance that I’ve traveled over the past ten years. It was ten years ago today – just about this time of morning – that I was in the hospital after months of back pain now with a new fever and unexplained rash that the doctor came into my room to tell me that I had Lymphoma. It was the start of almost six weeks of diagnostic tests – a CT-guided fine needle aspirate of a lymph node in my back, ultrasounds of various parts of my body, a bone marrow aspirate, CT and PET imaging, a mediastinoscopy where they inserted a scope through the front of my neck to harvest a lymph node behind my sternum – before I started chemo.

After all of those diagnostic tests, I got the “good” news that I had Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and it really was good news. The five year survival rate for some of the non-Hodgkin’s Lymphomas were listed as less than five percent at that time. After feeling unwell for more than six months followed by weeks of diagnostic tests, not even the start of chemo went smoothly.  I sat in the oncologist’s office while the nurse looked at my arms and told me that my veins weren’t good enough for chemo, so it was back to the operating room where they inserted a port-a-cath under the skin in my chest.  Thin tubing snaked under my skin toward my neck where it entered one of the large veins.

Back in the oncologist’s office, my port-a-cath ready for use, I sat in one of a dozen recliners arranged in a circle, about half occupied, at 41 I was the youngest person there by several decades. My husband drove me to my first chemo appointment because I was on such heavy-duty narcotics and he stayed until the nurse got me settled.  I sent him off to work, but before he left, he leaned over the recliner and kissed me so achingly tenderly that it brought tears to my eyes. What he said next, though, sent me over the edge into tears.  “If there was any way that I could trade places with you, I would.” I still cannot tell that story to anyone without crying.

After he left, the nurse reviewed the possible side-effects – hair loss, loss of fertility, heart problems and leukemia 10 – 15 years down the road, and allergic reaction are all that I remember out of the pages of side-effects that I had read the previous week and signed off on. Then it was time to start. My first chemo treatment. It all felt so unreal. Even though I felt like utter shit and knew that I was sick, I couldn’t have cancer, it couldn’t be me.

The first bag that they hung wasn’t even chemo, it was Benadryl to stave off possible allergic reaction. If any of you have taken over-the-counter Benadryl, you know how sleepy it can make you. I found that IV Benadryl makes you even sleepier. It turns out that I slept through the next three or four hours as a total of four different drugs flowed into my veins. All that fluid forced into my body had one immediate effect.  I woke up and took an immediate trip to the bathroom, pulling my IV along behind me. First few drops and I was suddenly wide awake.  Why was I peeing red? I relaxed a bit when I finally remembered that was one of the side-effects since one of the drugs itself was red.

With memories of Campbell Scott in the movie Dying Young stuck in my head, I expected to throw up for the rest of the day. Turns out the after-effects of my first chemo were minimal. The anti-nausea meds that they gave me worked wonders, and although food didn’t taste the same and I lived mostly on fruit and bread – because they actually tasted like they were supposed to - for the next six months I was never actually sick.

Six months of chemo followed by six weeks of radiation and my CT was clear. I felt so terrible through chemo that I had decided that I would end chemo there if my CT wasn’t clear. I was lucky not to have to see if I would have changed my mind facing the reality instead of only the possibility of chemo not working.

I started this post musing about the many changes that happened in the fifteen mile trip to work this morning.  The changes that I’ve experienced since my Hodgkin’s diagnosis are…. I debated about typing “many”, typing “few”, typing any of a number of words that crossed my mind, but none come close to expressing what is different about me.

In some ways, I’m more compassionate.  I understand constant, unrelenting physical pain. I understand narcotic addiction and the shame that goes with it (after 8 months of prescription narcotics, it wasn’t easy to stop and I was too embarrassed to tell my physician. Careful rationing of my last prescription, tapering off, then a few days of feeling like I was climbing out of my own skin, and it was over. I should have talked to the doc, though), survivors guilt (why did four friends’ family members succumb to their cancer in the few months after I was diagnosed and why did I survive?)

In other ways, it has made me more impatient – and I was never very patient to begin with! I don’t want to waste my time waiting in the car, waiting in line, waiting for someone else to do…anything. It’s made me realize that retirement may never come and that I need to do what I always put off until retirement NOW. I don’t want to spend my time visiting and humoring intolerant family members when I could be writing, quilting, gardening, building furniture or any of the seeming millions of other crafts and arts that I want to try.

Now, at ten years out, I can be considered cured of my Hodgkin’s according to my oncologist. I still have to face the possibility of heart damage and/or leukemia due to the drugs that I took and other cancers due to the radiation that I received. I also have a greater need of naps than I used to, but that could be due to the fact that I’m in my fifties now and not the eighteen year-old that I still feel like on some days.

I deal with things slowly. My husband doesn’t always understand that I can’t figure out what I’m feeling immediately, but it takes me time to process.  After I finish the book that I’m writing now, I’m thinking of incorporating my cancer diagnosis and treatment into a book – of course it has to have a HEA ending.  I think I’m finally ready.

A Trouble Halved, excerpt

My entry in the Dreamspinner Press Christmas anthology, A Trouble Halved, is the most personal story that I've written. While the characters are not based on anyone in my family, the setting is my Grandparents' house where I spent my summers and school vacations while growing up.

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ALLEN slammed the door to his bedroom, knowing even as he did it that it wouldn’t win him any points with his mother. Even so, it slammed with a satisfying thunk hard enough to rattle the pictures on the wall.

Throwing himself on his bed, he wished he had a time machine, that he’d go to sleep and wake up nine months in the future, that he was already in college where he could actually start his life and do something. High school and living under his parents‟ thumbs was getting harder each day.

Without warning, his door opened and his mother stood in the doorway, her face red. “Allen Matthew, if you slam this door one more time, not only will you be grounded for a week, but I’ll lock you out of your computer.”

He seethed, wanting to scream that he was eighteen, that he had bought his computer with money he had earned, that she didn’t have the right to do anything to him anymore. In the end he remained silent, knowing anything that he said would set her off again. He’d asked to skip the annual Christmas visit to the grandparents in Pennsylvania, but she had hit the roof. “Okay, Mom. I won’t slam it anymore.”

“Thank you. Please pick up your room before you go to bed. It looks like a pig sty.” She slammed the door on the way out. Not the satisfying loud thunk he’d managed, but enough to make a point. It was her house, and she could do as she wished.

Allen saw his laptop sitting on his desk and pushed himself off of his unmade bed to pick it up, kicking the dirty clothes that littered the floor under the bed. His mother would see the difference, but he wasn’t really doing what she’d asked. He’d dig out the clothes someday and throw them in the laundry.

He logged on and started to e-mail Dusty about Christmas but pulled out his cell instead.

“Hey, what’s up? What’d your Mom say?” Dusty sounded excited, and Allen hated to disappoint him.

“No go, man. I got a lecture on family responsibilities, and she was all „the grandparents are getting older‟ and „they’re not going to be here forever‟ and „I could give them one week out of my busy, important year‟.” Allen built up a good head of steam, telling his best friend all of the things that he wished he could have said to his mother. He continued without allowing Dusty to say a word, “You know what, though? It’s not just a week! It’s every holiday, every summer. I miss everything here while we’re in fuckin’ Pennsylvania.”

Dusty said, “That bites. I’ll tell my Mom you can’t come. Real sorry, man”

“In less than a year, though, we’ll be away at college and won’t have to worry about it.” He wished that they would be going to the same college, but even if they had been best friends for most of their lives, they had different interests. Dusty would be going to art school while he would be going the University of Virginia to study Chemistry.

“So what do you do up there, anyway?”

“Nothin’ much. We used to go out and play in the snow and build snowmen and all that shit, but there aren’t many kids there anymore. And who wants to build snowmen, anyway? It’s all old people there, and they just sit around and look at old pictures and talk. No broadband. Boring. As. Shit.”

Dusty, ever the optimist, said, “You can always take your laptop and hide in your room and watch movies.”

“Yeah, maybe. Listen, man, tell your Mom thanks for me, okay? I gotta get this paper finished before tomorrow.”

“Sure. Later, man.”

Instead of working on his English paper, Allen logged onto Facebook and checked to see if Greg had added any new pictures. Once part of the group Dusty and Allen had played with when they were younger, Greg had drifted away when they got to Junior High. While Dusty concentrated on art and Allen had set his sights on science and math, Greg had tried out for the football and baseball teams and excelled. He was too busy with his jock friends, college scouts, and local media reporters to spend time with his geeky childhood friends.

Allen clicked on one of the new thumbnails and was so lost in the tanned skin, blue eyes, and blond hair that he almost missed the chat invitation that popped up at the bottom of the screen. Expecting Dusty, he clicked without looking to see who it was.

GregHarmon: Allen, u there?

A character revealed

Last week I wrote about losing Connor. He was such a wonderful dog and it's been hard getting used to life without his constant presence. Our other dog, Pippin, thought that he should have equal time on my blog, so this week I'm posting a picture of him and revealing that he is one character who has appeared unchanged in one of my books, Unexpected Guest.

While Connor was a quiet presence, Pippin is an in-your-face attention grabber. Very sweet in his way and very exuberant, he settles down with me early in the morning when I write and most of the words that I've written have been "set to paper" with his head resting on my lap.

Good bye, big boy

Connor died last night. He was a big dog, 120 pounds, and had been having trouble getting around for almost a year. He was fine when I left for work and died after taking a few breaths when I got home.

He was a wonderful dog. He would have been the result if I could have custom ordered my perfect dog. When I was going through chemo, he was my constant companion - checking me out when I coughed, sleeping next to me instead of in his bed, standing next to me when I was laying on the sofa and resting his head on my chest. He knew something was wrong with me and did everything in his doggie arsenal to make me feel better.

It's never easy to lose a pet, but losing Connor hurts more than I could have imagined.

More than three months!

I know that I've been busy. I know that because I've been working sixty hours a week, because my knees hurt, because I still have flowerpots filled with frost-killed coleus next to our front door, and because I forgot to order the usual Godiva chocolates for my partner's birthday. I didn't quite recognize how busy until I logged on and realized that it had been more than three months since I've been here.

Why have I been busy? Because healthcare is changing and we've just had a major computer update. Oddly enough, my last book used a computer update as a plot device. When I wrote it, I used past computer updates for guidance, but I should have waited and used this actual update. More drama than I could ever dream of writing into a book!

I entered my chosen profession because I love science. I find joy in getting a mathematical formula to work out, in identifying a bacteria that we shouldn't isolate in this geographical area and then finding out that the patient had just traveled to someplace where it is endemic, and to finding the best solution to a problem. As my career has progressed over the years, though, I find that I get to participate in very little actual science. Because I was good technically when I was younger, I was given the chance to manage and now deal more with the paperwork that keeps the department running. Also interesting, but in a very different way. Some days I miss the science and other days I find a new joy in receiving a peer-comparison report to find out that we set the benchmark for efficiency in our group.

Why am I thinking about all of that? Don't know. I'm stressed and trying to figure out how I got here. I want to write but am too tired. The most creative thing that I've done lately is to knit a hat, but even that gave me a chance to grow as it was the first "non-flat" thing that I've ever knitted.

I watched Glee last night. Glee isn't a perfect show and I read a lot of criticism about how unrealistic it is, but I can get around that and love the show. I love musicals, I was in band and chorus in high school, and it brings back memories of some of the happier times in high school. Last night's episode dealt with people being bullied and I'm sure that I'm not the only one to have personal experience with that.

Last night's episode is still with me. I got up this morning and watched it again, I've read all sorts of blogs and discussion about it, and it's been sort of stewing around in the background all day. I was honestly surprised when the bully jock kissed Kurt. Not too many shows actually surprise me, but this did. I can't wait to find out where they're going with this. Would it be possible to redeem this bully into a love interest for Kurt? Don't know how I'd feel about that. Blaine with Kurt? More obvious and he's a cutie but I got a friend vibe from their interaction and not a romantic vibe. Guess I'll have to wait to find out.

Win a paperback copy of Unexpected Guest

Brendan and Jaden play an important part in getting Dan and Ethan together in Unexpected Guest, but we read the first part of their own story in Patient Eyes.

Leave a comment and tell me the location (building and city) where Brendan and Jaden shared their first real kiss in Patient Eyes.

If I have more than one correct answer, I'll put the names in a hat and have either the Golden Retriever or my husband choose the winner.

I'll collect answers until midnight on August 1st.

Unexpected Guest, Excerpt

My new Dreamspinner Press title will be out on July 30th. Read an excerpt below and check out the Dreamspinner blog on the 30th for more excerpts and a chance to win!

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Dan looked with dismay out the living room window of his mother’s house. Earlier in the day, he had watched the moving van pull up and smiled at the young couple, both tall with light brown hair, who had stood in front of the house with the red “Sold” banner on the sign on the front lawn. They looked so young and happy, just starting out with their lives stretching in front of them. He had turned away, wondering how long it would take before their new lives and new love were tarnished.

Now he looked out of the window again, this time with growing horror. A bunch of college kids were drinking beer and eating pizza on the porch. Everything he had been afraid of when the house next to his mother’s had gone on the market was happening. Their quiet neighborhood had escaped the college market so far, the city’s elegant homes subdivided into cell-like rooms to rent to desperate college kids. Now it looked like the house next door was to be home to a bunch of those loud, messy students. Letting the curtains fall, he turned to go to bed, resolving to go talk to someone who lived at the house the following day.

Having the house next door subdivided into student housing would make it almost impossible to sell his mother’s house. She had decided a few months ago that his childhood home was too much for her to care for on her own and moved to a retirement community nearby. About the same time, Dan had finalized his divorce and moved home to help his mother get the house ready for sale. Any prospective buyers would see who lived next door and run, envisioning loud parties and beer cans thrown all over the lawn.

Falling into bed after a quick shower, Dan regretted the slow pace that he had been taking while painting and fixing things around the house. If he had moved faster, the house might be sold already and it wouldn’t be his headache anymore. Since the divorce, though, he felt like he was slogging through mud to get anything done.

He had married Pam right after college, and they had been happy enough, he supposed, but the marriage lacked the burning passion of couples in books and movies. Resigning himself to the fact that not everyone could have that level of desire for their partners, he had settled in for a comfortable coexistence with his wife. After ten years, she had decided that she wanted to chase that passion and fire in a relationship and left him for one of her coworkers, leaving Dan to start over on his own.

Resolving to visit the kids next door first thing in the morning, he turned off the light and tried to go to sleep. His last thought before finally drifting off was that the boys next door probably wouldn’t be up until afternoon.






Jaden turned the huge moving van into the driveway and looked over at his sister, grinning. “We made it! Come on, let’s go. My ass is numb, and I’m not sure if I can feel my feet anymore.”

Walking around the front of the large truck, Emily put her arm around her older brother’s waist and smiled when he kissed the top of her head. She had stopped growing at an impressive five foot ten, but Jaden still towered over her. “We should have traded off. Brendan should be here with you the first time you come home to your new house.”

“It’s okay, we’ve been here before and he’ll be here in a few minutes. You know him, he had to make sure that we had coffee for tomorrow morning before we did anything else. He’s gonna pick up the beer for the guys too.” He put his hands on his hips and bent backward to stretch his back. “Wanna see the house?” Tugging her by the hand, he pulled her up the wide stairs to the front porch.

It had been a little more than two years since he and Brendan had gotten back together at Jaden’s college graduation and, after realizing that his parents would never come around, had moved to Virginia.

Always able to sense his moods, Emily pulled him into a quick hug. “Jade, don’t worry about Mama and Daddy. Enjoy your first house with Brendan. Don’t let them take any more time away from you.”

“You’re right. I’m going to call the guys and let them know we’re here so we can start unloading, then I’ll show you around.” The house was an older home near the apartment that Jaden had lived in while going to college. He had worked his way through college doing gay porn and hadn’t always been happy doing it, but he had met Brendan and made enough to pay for school, and with Brendan’s share, saved enough for a sizable down payment on their first house.

Emily bubbled enthusiastically as they walked through the house and exclaimed in delight as they went out the back door, “This is great! It’s completely private, like being out in the country or something.” Looking around the lush landscaping of the backyard, Jared agreed. Their friend Ethan had done the design and called them when the elderly occupants decided that it was too much for them to continue to maintain. He had been so enthusiastic that they’d flown up from Texas the following weekend and put a bid on the house before flying back.

They heard a car in the driveway and walked around the side of the house. Jaden expected to see Brendan but instead found himself flat on his back on the soft grass after being tackled by Kevin, his college housemate. He laughed as his other friends from college piled on. He never thought that he would think of any place other than Texas as his home, but he had grown to love Virginia while he was in college and was happy to be back.

After the general chaos of half a dozen large men rolling around on the ground, they stood and brushed themselves off, Kevin hooking an arm around Jaden’s neck. “I thought that you promised us beer!”

“Yeah, I give you beer now and we’ll never get it unpacked! Unload the truck and then you get the beer.”

Jaden planted a quick kiss on Kevin’s temple and received a half-hearted shove in return. “Hey, none of that in public.”

“You sayin’ you want to kiss me in private?” Jaden joked as they walked toward the moving van to unlock and open the back doors.

“You wish, Stretch. Come on, let’s get this done.”





Turning after stacking another box in the corner of their bedroom, Jaden saw Brendan carrying part of the bed frame. Looking back, he thought that he had fallen for Brendan the first time he’d heard him speak. At the time, he’d thought that it was only homesickness that had drawn him to a familiar accent, but once he’d met Brendan, he had never been happy with anyone else. His high school sweetheart had faded into the background quickly after he’d met Brendan, and even the guys that he had dated after their breakup hadn’t been able to push Brendan out of his heart.

He walked across the bare floor to pull Brendan into a warm hug, hips aligned, chests pressed tightly together. “See you have your priorities straight.”

Brendan leaned in for a soft kiss. “No way we’re going to sleep on a mattress on the floor for our first night in our new house.”

“We’re homeowners, Bren! Doesn’t seem real, somehow.”

Another soft kiss, and Brendan pulled back to look into his eyes. “You having second thoughts?”

“No, we’ve gone through a lot to get here. My parents, Alex, our breakup, and everything. I’m almost afraid to believe that it’s real.” Claiming Brendan’s full lips in a searing kiss, Jaden pulled Brendan’s hips tightly against his own, feeling their bodies react. They heard loud footsteps on the stairs and pulled apart, breathing heavily.

Kevin appeared in the door, dragging one end of the mattress. “This is almost it. Where does the other bed go?”

“In the guest room at the end of the hall.” Jaden was interrupted by the other guys bringing the rest of the bed frame and box springs.

A short time later, the beds were set up in the master bedroom and guest room, the truck was empty, and everyone was sitting on the front porch, bottles of beer sweating in the warm evening air. Jaden flipped his phone closed after ordering enough pizza for twenty people. He raised his beer to the other guys before settling on one of the steps and leaning back against Brendan. “Thanks for the help, guys.”

Brendan echoed his lover’s words, and Kevin responded, “You might not be so happy when we call you to baby-sit and you have to do diaper duty.”

“Man, I can’t believe that Rachel didn’t kick your sorry ass to the curb a long time ago,” Jaden teased. Kevin had been afraid that his college girlfriend would find out about his job in the porn industry but when it became public during Alex’s stalking trial, she had only made him promise that he wouldn’t do it anymore.

A few hours and a lot of beer later, moving day had morphed into a party filled with the loud retelling of college exploits that had Brendan and Emily, hearing some of the stories for the first time, laughing until they cried.