Toxic Tattooed Pictures
1. One day I decided to get a closet organizer installed, to bring some order to my chaotic wardrobe. I planned to pack up the clothes that no longer fit, and donate them to Goodwill. I was sure I’d never lose enough weight to fit into the size 4 suits I once wore.
2. The installers came two days after I was diagnosed with cancer. As I was sorting through the clothes I decided to hang onto the size 4 outfits. The main thing I knew about cancer treatment was that you threw up a lot, so I thought maybe some would fit again. Later I found out that 50-70% of breast cancer patients gain weight during treatment—which I think is SO unfair. Goodwill got the size 4's, 6’s, 8’s, 10’s …
3. I had rosary beads--from the shrine of Our Lady of Knock, in Ireland, where miraculous healings have occurred—that I wanted to take into surgery with me, but I wasn’t sure where I could put them so they wouldn’t get in the way, so I stuck them in my sock. A few weeks later for the next round of surgery I took them back, along with two small crosses people had given me. But they had new socks, green and smaller, and the nurse told me patients complained they were falling off. I had visions of my religious paraphernalia spilling out all over the operating room, so I explained my dilemma to the nurse who must have thought I was a bit crazy … but I didn’t dare leave them behind. I finally wrapped everything around my ankle before I put the socks on and luckily the socks stayed on, and everything stayed in.
4. Dean Jack Galvin introduced me at the Fletcher School Commencement ceremony that May by saying I know Margaret Thatcher, Margaret Thatcher is a friend of mine, and Maria Judge is tougher than Margaret Thatcher,” and I thought good line, I’m going to try to use that somehow.
5. Guess who came to Tufts a few months later, and guess who else went through the receiving line and got her picture taken with England’s former Prime Minister. I thought good picture, I’m going to try to use that somehow.
6. Armed with my Walkman, an aromatherapy eye pillow, snacks, and a book to read, I found my first chemo treatment to be a much calmer experience than I expected. A friend said I looked as relaxed as though I were getting a facial instead of being injected with toxic chemicals.
7. My parents came to my first chemo treatment, and I joked that chemo was fine, but the ride home with Dad was harrowing. At age 82, he was a good driver, but casual in his use of directional signals. I was convinced we’d be rearended and I’d have my first bout of nausea in the middle of Memorial Drive while he exchanged insurance information with an irate motorist he’d just cut off in traffic. The following month he was diagnosed with multiple myeloma and leukemia and died10 weeks later.
8. A friend from work and director of our Security Studies Program, accompanied me to my second chemo treatment, and we discussed the drugs that I was receiving. Dick, I’ve heard these chemo drugs contain the same toxic substances used in chemical weapons. I hope they don’t ratify the chemical weapons treaties before I finish my treatment. It might limit the supply. Dick told me later he was thinking Gee, I hate to tell they just did ratify the treaties.
9. Anthony gave me the final haircut, before my hair fell out. I thought this was one of the shortest cuts I'd ever had, then realized in about two weeks it would be a lot shorter.
10. The wig fitting. I had my choice of color, style and length, and several people suggested this was the time to return to my roots (genealogical, not follicular) and become an Irish redhead. But I opted for something as close to my own hairstyle and color as possible.
11. Cindy and I met at a cancer program in early June, and after discovering that we were starting chemo at the same time, we decided to go through treatment together, a couple of “Bosom Buddies”. We both bought our wigs while we still had hair, and after it fell out we went back for a refitting, posing with new hair in hand before turning it over to the stylist for a “tune-up.”
12. After a little trimming, our synthetic hair looked as good as the home grown stuff ... well, almost.
13. At first I was obsessed about the wig. Each night when I got home from work I'd put it on the stand and carefully smooth it down, so it would be in good shape for the next day. One night I even set it with sponge rollers, something I hadn’t done to my own hair since high school.
14. It didn’t take long for me to get quite blase about my synthetic headgear, and I would come in the house and toss it over the back of a chair ...
15. ... or even the vacuum cleaner. One day in Oncology I found a sheet of helpful hints that someone had compiled about how to deal with hair loss during chemotherapy. One of the suggestions was to vacuum your head to get rid of loose hair - that way there would be less cleanup. The first thing I saw when I got home that day was my very large, very heavy, upright vacuum cleaner, and I could not imagine how I could ever use it to vacuum my head without ripping off my ear in the process. I assume the person making the suggestion had in mind a vacuum cleaner with a hose attachment - or maybe a Dust-Buster - but I’m not sure I would have tried even that.
16. Underneath it all was my bald head, which my 3 year old nephew found confusing when he came to visit. He'd see me wearing a hat or a wig, or a scarf, then he'd see my bald head. He thought there were 4 different aunties who lived in my house.
17. No matter the condition of my head, I always wore lipstick in public.
18. So did Margaret Thatcher, who I met when she spoke at Tufts University
19. Sometimes, when cancer patients lose their hair during chemotherapy, friends shave their own heads as a gesture of support. I didn’t have to ask that of people, because there were already plenty of balding men around the Tufts campus to provide all sorts of inspiration, as well as bald jokes, referrals to barbers who charged by the square inch, and reminders that my hair would grow back, while their polished pates would stay that way
20. When I received this ad in the mail, I thought Dolly Parton s signature looked very familiar, so I took off the wig and looked at the label. Sure enough, it was the same. Like she says, the wig lets me change my look in seconds. Ask my nephew if you don't believe me.
21. Hair does grow back after chemotherapy, and pretty soon Cindy and I were no longer Bald-Headed Babes
22. Even chemotherapy eventually got to be routine and I was always trying to keep busy during my two hour treatment. With my cell phone and a few inches of paper from my In Basket, I could stay in touch with my staff, and there weren’t as many interruptions in Oncology as there were at work. On the other hand, no one was sticking needles into me at the office.
23. My friend Gerry, a chemist, sent me my very own copy of the Physician s Desk Reference, so that I could read up on all the drugs I was getting during treatment. The book weighed seven pounds, so when I wasn’t reading it, I used it for weight lifting, to build up the strength in my left arm
24. Better living through chemistry! I had plenty of drugs to look up in the PDR none of these medications was for the cancer itself, but rather for the side effects of the cancer treatment, everything from sleeplessness to antibiotics to cream for skin singed from radiation.
25. My oncologist gave me three different prescription for anti nausea medication, with a retail value of about $120. A friend gave me a couple of joints, with a retail value of considerably less. The expensive stuff worked well enough so that I never used the joints, but I kept it handy, just in case. I found it at the back of my underwear drawer several years later.
26. At Mt. Auburn Hospital, patients in radiation therapy get a special parking spot in the garage, near the entrance to the hospital. It was also near the spot where the smokers hung out, so I would occasionally get a lungfull of second hand smoke as I went for my daily dose of radiation, which made me feel even more special. (However, after the Boston Globe printed this picture with its caption, hospital officials relocated the smoking area outside, to a glass enclosed booth that kept the smoke away from the patients. Many thanks for this good move!!)
27. I model the latest fashion in radiation attire, the print hospital gown underneath, and the pink gown over it. Sometimes there would be 5 of us in the waiting room, all wearing matching pink gowns and looking like quintuplets.
28. People seemed to think radiation was administered by some huge machine that sucked you inside and zapped the radiation over your entire body. They were surprised to hear that you just lay on the table and the linear accelerator was positioned above you, or to the side, and then a precisely targeted beam was directed at a specific field of treatment, outline by tiny blue dots tattooed into my skin.
29. Radiation was also a relatively painless experience, made even easier by the staff who always made everyone feel comfortable and relaxed, no matter how busy or behind schedule they were.
30. While the doctors were treating me with surgery, chemotherapy and radiation, other practitioners were treating me with alternative, complementary forms of healing. Shiatsu, based on traditional Chinese medicine, is like acupuncture without needles, and uses gentle hand pressure to balance the flow of energy in the body.
31. I could do shiatsu on myself, and regularly worked my immune points with a tiger warmer, which applied heat to the points to stimulate them
32. Reiki is a form of hand-on energy healing for stress and pain relief, which has been known to produce healing effects on all levels: mental, emotional, physical and spiritual. It is a 2,500 year old healing practice that originated in Tibet and came to the United States by way of Tibet. It came to me by way of Nancy Pressler, a nurse in the recovery room at Mt. Auburn Hospital, who did reiki on me after surgery. I found it so helpful that I continued treatments on a regular basis
33. Jin shin jyutsu is a physio-philosophy that balances energy to help the body heal itself. By holding various energy locks along energy pathways, you can bring physical, mental, emotional and spiritual balance where needed.
34. Two colleagues from work took me to lunch at Ristorante Marino in North Cambridge the day before my first chemo. I wasn’t hungry but Bob insisted on sharing his pizza with me. Later, when he found out how well I tolerated the chemo, he claimed it was the pizza that did the trick. I wasn’t totally convinced, but not wanting to tempt the fates, I ate Marino’s pizza before each subsequent dose of chemo. I never once got nauseous.
35. A few weeks after our first “pre-chemo pizza”, my health-related junk mail brought me this tidbit of medical wisdom, which made me think that perhaps I could have been preventing cancer all along by eating more pizza
36. At the opening of this exhibit at the Ginn Library at Tufts University.
37. Two years after finishing treatment, Cindy and I did the 3-day Avon Walk for Breast Cancer.
38. Oh shit, not again! My oncologist's comment upon hearing I've been diagnosed again, 20 years after the first bout. Click below to read about Cancer 2.0
39. 26 years later, Cindy and I are still going strong.