Cocoon mode,* day 18: Deemed hopeless by her would-be surgeon, the blond lady battles her cancer and makes amazing progress; dirty mirror, missing pet noted at accident scene

Maybe two weeks ago, I was pedaling down the Seldon Road bike trail when I spotted a familiar-looking biker coming towards me. I thought I must be wrong, because it looked like Patti, the fit, blonde lady who was supposed to be Outside, undergoing surgery for a deadly cancer.

But it was her, and she was pedaling hard and fast. She was intent on moving and did not want to stop for anything.

"I thought you would be Outside!" I shouted as we drew close.

"No!" she shouted back as she zipped past. "I'm doing something else now, it's better."

I did not see her after that and the other night I walked up by her house and all the lights were out, so I thought maybe she had gone Outside, afterall.

Today, I took a short walk before I went bike riding and as I neared her home, I heard a sound that I could hardly believe. A lawn mower. Someone was mowing a lawn - her lawn, it sounded like.

Last night, it had been snowing and raining at the same time and while there was no hint of snow on the ground this morning, everything was wet.

But it was Patti, mowing her lawn. She saw me coming, shut down the mower and walked over to chat.

So I asked why she hadn't gone Outside for her surgery. Her answer was most dismaying - the doctor who was going to do the surgery looked at all the data, and declared the cancer to be beyond treatment, hopeless, there was no point.

"But it turned out to be a good thing," she said. She continued her chemo-therapy, took up naturopathic therapy and resolved in her mind that, whatever the damn doctor said, she was going to beat this.

And guess what?

Her cancer markers have dropped, she told me,  she is improving, experiencing remission.

"What the doctor didn't know is that I am too mean to let this cancer beat me," she said.

"i've never thought of you as mean," I responded. "Tough, but not mean."

"I'm mean on cancer," she emphasized. "I tear cancer apart."

And she is not experiencing the usual side-effects of chemo therapy - no nausea, she has all her hair.

"Tell your readers I am a miracle woman."

I guess if I'm going to take pictures through the outside rear-view mirror, I ought to keep it clean. As you can see, the autofocus on the pocket camera latched on to the dirt on the glass, not the image of the people.

Oh, well.

Margie has been so miserable these past few days that I had not been able to get her out of the house - until this afternoon. She and Kalib came with me on coffee break. Kalib fell asleep in his car seat so we took a long drive and happened upon the aftermath of an accident and witnessed paperwork being filled out.

There were many more people than this standing around, but this was the view that I had in the one second that I was stopped at the red light. The accident was not the only sad thing marked here. If you could see this image full-size, then it would be clear that someone has a missing "baby" named Socks.

I am not certain if Socks is a little dog or a big squirrel or maybe a kitty, but I will keep my eyes peeled. I know how much it can hurt to loose a furry friend.

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month.

Comments

[MissSunshine]

"Socks" looks like a Pomeranian to me. They are friendly but high energy little dogs.

[debby]

Patti's news makes me glad. Cancer sucks. Every time that I hear someone who's kicking its ass, it makes me glad.

I'm glad that Patti's still kicking, God bless her!

[Eye of the Beholder]

Wishing the blond lady well. Amazing. Hope your family is feeling better too.