Progression and Pain

How are you? The question I’m asked over and over again, each and every day. I don’t mind answering how I’m feeling, its a completely normal thing to ask, but let me explain what okay actually means. How are you? Me “Better” Better can mean so many different things. This past week I went from a 10 to a 8. Yeah I feel better but far from the better we all associate with the word better. We spend so much time sometimes trying to explain how we are feeling when to be honest its no easy task. Am I ever okay? No. I have cancer. But I am okay because when I’m feeling up to it I choose to be OKAY. Man is this hard to explain. This is where positivity and determination tend to get mushed into one meaning. Am I the super positive wonder woman? Or am I a 6 on the scale and I just want to make the most of it because someday I’ll be a 10 again. I was dreading Tuesday because I thought that I might be developing a reaction to my chemo, but Monday came and so did the pain. We don’t know why or whats going on with me, but cancer, health and life are hard to have all the answers to. Monday I felt the tightness in my liver, hours later the spasms crept in and by Monday afternoon I was stuck in bed afraid to move. Tuesday was suppose to be chemo day but it turned into how can we try to help Larissa’s pain level get to be a 9 a least. Wednesday the pain medication is finally kicking in and I could say I was finally an 8 and ready for chemo but my nausea spiked. Usually you hear of people throwing up from chemo but I was throwing up right up until chemo. Thursday I sat on my computer on the couch all day unsure what to do other than get caught up on computer stuff. I felt ironically better. What is better: 7 Life with cancer is no walk in the park and describing it is a very challenging word hunt! A part of cancer is being sick, so being under the weather shouldn’t surprise anyone. But how do we really feel, well better technically but still in bed. by Larissa Gionfriddo Podermanski, Metastatically Speaking, February 2018 ***

Yesterday I heard the dreaded words of progression. Of course it’s sad & scary. It’s never what a thriver would ever hope to hear. But for some reason the saying “that’s just how the cookie crumbles” pops into my head. I’m sure it’s commonly used to work it into cancer (lol). But now it’s a thing! Instead of basking in the bad news I’m going to set up a small vision board activity to envision my future. I don’t have to envision decades but I can envision a prosperous and adventurous 2018! (If cancer agrees or not)

***

I recently experienced how emotionally draining cancer can be. I normally try to be kind and see things from other people’s side but when you’re at your lowest keeping yourself together is extremely challenging. Positivity can get you through a few days but at weeks your frustration & anger can overcome you. When your friend battles something like this let them vent, let them be angry, try to listen because we can’t expect others to really understand. Listening and not taking it personally is a gift to us. Being trustworthy (we might not want everyone to know how you are at your weakest) and when you get a friend like this... who can help you through your hardest times… it is the ultimate gift!

by Larissa Gionfriddo Podermanski, March 2018

The Missing Mental Health Element in the Ferguson Story

By now, everyone has heard the news from Ferguson, Missouri. An unarmed 18 year old named Michael Brown was shot and killed by a police officer. Michael Brown was black. Some of the events surrounding the shooting are in dispute. But what isn’t in dispute is that for the past two weeks, a community has been torn apart by race – a community that until recently was best known for its proximity to St. Louis and its designation as a Playful City, USA . Picture credit: Health Affairs Media reports since the August 9 th shooting have focused almost entirely on one angle – race relations. We’ve heard about unrest in the city, the National Guard, police in riot gear, and danger in the streets. We’ve heard about the District Attorney’s ties to law enforcement, and concerns that a too-white Grand Jury may be racially motivated not to indict the police officer involved in the deadly shooting. But the media have been strangely silent about a different angle – this comm

Veterans and Mental Illness

On a sultry June morning in our national’s capital last Friday, I visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial . Scores of people moved silently along the Wall, viewing the names of the men and women who died in that war. Some stopped and took pictures. One group of men about my age surrounded one name for a photo. Two young women posed in front of another, perhaps a grandfather or great uncle they never got to meet. It is always an incredibly moving experience to visit the Wall. It treats each of the people it memorializes with respect. There is no rank among those honored. Officer or enlisted, rich or poor, each is given equal space and weight. It is a form of acknowledgement and respect for which many veterans still fight. Brave Vietnam veterans returned from Southeast Asia to educate our nation about the effects of war and violence. I didn’t know anything about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder when I entered the Connecticut Legislature in the late 1970s. I had only vag

Celebrating Larissa Gionfriddo Podermanski Five Years Later

My daughter Larissa died of Metastatic Breast Cancer five years ago, in May of 2018. She had only two wishes at the end. One was that we plant a tree for her. We did - in a Middletown CT city park - and it has grown straight and tall. The other was that she not be forgotten. Larissa's family and friends took pains to reassure that she could not be forgotten. If you were fortunate enough to know Larissa, you would know why. Still, I wondered how I might celebrate her a little more now that some years have passed, while sharing some of her memorable spirit with others (some who knew her and others who did not), while reminding us why she was such an extraordinary woman. In early 2017, Larissa started a blog called Metastatically Speaking, through which she chronicled her life with MBC. Unfortunately - and through no one's fault - her blog disappeared some time after her death. So, if you search for it now, you can't find it. However, I was fortunate enough to see and retain

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