ONE HUNDRED NAMES FOR LOVE by Diane Ackerman

The Reader
by Judy Westergard
oil on canvas

all rights reserved

Among my top 10 favorite books of all time: "One Hundred Names for Love" by Diane Ackerman. This is a funny, poignant, insightful, well researched memoir of her life with her author-husband following his massive stroke that left him aphasic. Despite his doctors' predictions that he'd never be able to speak nor understand again, Diane, along with a charming, funny day-nurse, worked non-stop to immerse Paul with language: puns, memories, questions, tormentingly slow conversations in which they would patiently give Paul all the time he needed to respond...sometimes as long as seven minutes. The result (and I'm not giving anything away here; she lets you know from the get-go that he eventually publishes again) is an almost-fluent post-stroke aphasic. This one's a must-read on so many levels: being a care giver, how we acquire language, strokes, overcoming adversity, and just plain elegant writing.

ON LIVING WITH A BRAIN TUMOR Day 84: Seeing Double

"The Impermanence of Summer"
by Judy Westergard
watercolor
Considering a print? Click on the image.

Two of my favorite quotes have dominated my thoughts over the past four days because events over the past four days have found me living those two quotes. At first glance they seem to have nothing to do with each other. But that's an outward appearance. First the quotes, then the explanation: Quote #1: "Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans." (Anonymous) Quote #2: "...the time we are afforded to find happiness and satisfaction cannot be spared or wasted.... Whenever possible, dreams must be pursued, not deferred." (Anna Quindlen) Here's the back story: Six months ago, episodes of double vision led to a referral to a neuro-ophthalmologist who recommended an MRI. The MRI revealed a benign brain tumor. The next step was a referral to a neurosurgeon who told me that while some of my symptoms were related to the tumor, it was the cause of none of my vision problems. “Great!” I said when he offered the well-reasoned option of “watching waiting” as opposed to radiation. In the interim, in order to eliminate the double vision, I was given a prescription for prisms to be inserted in my eyeglass lenses.. They worked great...for a few days. So I headed back to my neuro-ophthalmologist. "Dr. Neurosurgeon told me that my brain tumor is unrelated to the increasing and now-constant double vision, so I'm back here on the assumption that the prisms aren't as strong as they need to be." "I'm not so sure about that!" Dr. Neuro-ophthalmologist said. He loaded the images of my MRI onto his computer screen and explained why he believes the tumor is the cause of my vision issues. "I'm meeting with my radiologist," he said. "I'll bring your case to the meeting and give you a call on Monday.” Jump ahead to today's phone call. "The radiologist concurs. We both believe that the tumor is the cause of your double vision." Now here's where the quotes come in to play. The "other plans" my husband and I have been making before life getting in the way are for a trip abroad. We started planning for this trip before the vision problems became an issue. But because I'm a big believer in pursuing not deferring this trip. I'll be darned if I'll cancel it just because I’m seeing double! Current plans: Get new prisms installed, take trip, see how things work out. No more double vision? Great; back to "watchful waiting." Continued problems? It scares me to say this out loud, even more so to write it out because committing my thoughts to paper places them in the category of reality. So if need be, I’ll submit to having four holes drilled in my head in order to anchor the cage that will zap The Little B*#*tard. I can handle the four holes. The scary part is the very slight but very real possibility of some crummy side effects, one of which is my benign tumor will transform into a malignant one. So it's back to the occasional panic attack, which I deal with by writing, and it's back to being aware of my life as a WWABT (pronounced "wabbit." It stands for Woman With A Brain Tumor.) With any luck--and maybe a strong gin and tonic--my sense of humor about all of this will return. Until then, thanks to seeing double I intend to look forward to seeing twice as much of Bruges, Copenhagen, and Amsterdam.

ON LIVING WITH A BRAIN TUMOR: Day 14, The Crash

"Namaste"
by Judy Westergard
pastel on paper
all rights reserved
giclee reprints available through
FineArtAmerica.com

I experienced my first major emotional crash yesterday. Even though I expected it, it came as a surprise. A sense of overwhelming sadness. Inertia. I spent most of the day doing nothing other than stare into space and play endless games of Solitaire, all the while thinking that I should/could be painting, gardening, knitting, hiking...any number of things that seven years of retirement have let me do whenever I wanted. But no, there I sat, alternately staring at the cards and into space.
But then yesterday was the first day I’ve experienced symptoms beyond a few minutes. I've alluded in previous entries to my ability to disavow all that this lump in my head might imply. Cheerful denial is easy for me when there's nothing going on to remind one of reality. What was so puzzling about all of this is that I was fully aware that I was acquiescing to this mood (which, by the way, happily broke with my husband’s magic words, "Let's eat out"). So today I went back to one of the three books I'm reading. From Seeking Peace by Mary Pipher: "All of our lives, we must keep appointments we did not make.... (Yet) we can choose the way we deal with our fate." Perhaps I should write those words down on multiple Post-It Notes and place them around the house. I sure could have used them yesterday.

On Being a Woman With a Brain Tumor

A Question of Control
by Judy Westergard
oil on canvas
all rights reserved

It has been a little over 24 hours since I received the phone call that confirmed the MRI results. I have a brain tumor. According to the radiologist it is most likely benign. My neuro-ophthalmologist explained why that was so and said lots of other reassuring things but to go into all of that isn't my purpose here. Rather, I'm changing the focus of my blog from musings about art, books, and recipes to how art, books, and recipes affect my take on being A Woman With a Brain Tumor. Conversely, I hope I can gain some insight into how being A.W.W.B.T. affects my art, my reading, and yes, even my cooking. Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to get a few more restaurant meals out of all of this! Of course my main goal is to make some sense out of this major life-changing event and deal with it with grace, humility, and good humor. (Please Lord...help me avoid turning into a Poor Pitiful Pearl!) I’ve given a lot of thought about whether to "go public" with this. I've already informed all the folks in my life who should know, so why a public blog? As usual, my favorite sounding board (AKA my husband) clarified my thoughts for me: "You're more likely to keep writing if you believe there's someone out there who wants to share your experiences. And you've already discovered that you won't keep up a private journal. So go for it!" Wise man, that husband. So here I go, mapless, off on the kind of journey I never thought I’d take. But lack of a map didn't stop Lewis and Clark and by golly, it’s not going to stop me.