Update: August 2025

2025 08 07

Hi everyone –

 

Thanks again for all the beautiful birthday messages! I had a very quiet day at home with Gail, which was what I wanted.

 

The day before, I’d had a CT scan, and this morning I saw Garth.

Today has been a blue-blanket kind of day, with some grey along the way.

Blue:

The oral chemo did help to keep most of the lung nodules from substantial growth, and also kept the pleural effusion at bay.

I’m less depressed today than on grey-blanket days, and I now have some answers to the uncertainty that has contributed to the depression. But I’m also quite sad.

Grey:

There are several new nodules in my liver, and the one that has been there all along (which had been considered simply a cyst) has now doubled in size (15 to 31 mm) and is therefore deemed to be active.

(I looked for a section of my sky blanket that has blue with some grey, and then realised that the other colours meant something too.)

Row of Beige:

There is a metastasis on my left humerus (top of my arm), for which we’ll do a short course of radiation in the next few weeks.

White:

The incredible kindness of Garth, Sr Shelley and the whole team.

When I started crying, taking in all the news, Garth quietly came round his desk and just held me for a while. He then also grabbed a tissue from the box, saying, “You’ve even brought a tear to my eye.” What a mensch.

 

Garth assures me that I’m not yet in the “end times”, and he’ll tell me if and when that happens. So, please don’t panic about that.

 

We have agreed to change the treatment from oral chemo to an injectable chemo. It’s a fairly gentle one and will hopefully allow quality of life while doing more towards dealing with the nodes in my liver, etc. There’s no hair loss or neuropathy (although I still have the latter from 2023); nausea is unlikely and can be controlled anyway; but one’s blood counts can be affected – if that happens to me, I’ll be thanking all the lovely blood donors all over again.

 

On this treatment, gentle exercise is encouraged. I’m praying that the treatment won’t be an energy drain, the way the oral one was, but also acknowledging that much of my energy loss was to do with what was happening in my body.

 

I’ll write about the way the three-week chemo cycles work when I actually start the treatment. This will probably be in about a week from now, to give the oral chemo time to work its way out of my system, which is also the amount of time needed for medical aid authorisation of the new treatment. What I can say, now, is that I’ll usually only have to visit the chemo room twice per cycle.

 

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all your love and support.

I continue to wish all of you joy and sparkles.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

  

2025 08 13 

Hi everyone –

 

As always, thanks for all the love.

 

These past few days have been particularly difficult for me. I feel like I’m two parallel beings at the moment.

 

The one ‘me’ is often able to function normally; has no pain but rather low energy; has lovely conversations with various people (my huge appreciation to family members who have visited and people who have spoken on the phone); does her little bit of weekly editing work; works towards finishing her book; has managed to prune some books this week, and has had a very slow walk in Tokai Forest.

 

The other ‘me’, constantly coexisting with the first ‘me’, is suffering from massive anxiety, grief, shock, insomnia, fear of what life from now on could entail, and loss of what has been.

 

I’ve had several tearful meltdowns in the past few days. And I’ve really appreciated it when the people who have been around at the time have said they can’t believe it’s taken me so many years to do that. Yet none of what has gone before has been an act. It’s been as real as this is.

 

I spoke to Garth on the phone the other day: when I told him how I was feeling, including that I was terrified I was about to die right now, he said, "You absolutely aren’t." He prescribed some sleeping pills – I’m going to try my first one in my life, tonight – and a sedative for emergencies. (These feel so not-me!)

 

I also saw Renee (my wonderful analyst) on Monday, and she was extremely helpful, as always.

 

This afternoon I received the notification that medical aid has authorised the new chemo, which will be a drip on Day 1 ( for about four hours) and Day 8 ( for one hour) of every 21 days, for six cycles. I don’t yet know when in the next few days it will all start.

 

Thanks to the people who have given me calming exercises. They sometimes help, and sometimes don’t touch sides.

 

Thanks to Layla, who is the most extraordinary nurse-cat.

 

And massive thanks to Gail, who keeps on caring for me, day in and day out.

 

Lots of love 🌹❤️

2025 08 15

Hi everyone –

 

Thanks for all your love and kindness and compassion. 🙏🏼

 

We were able to start my chemo today. It went smoothly. It was my first time in this chemo room. There were six of us, swopping anecdotes – some of them very entertaining. Nice to take my mind off things. (The husband of one of the people made the most noise! He was the only partner present.)

 

Today also brought sad news that I'd been expecting for a while: my friend since school, Leigh, with whom I had been mutually tracking cancer journeys since 2017, passed away early this morning. A blessed release for her, but she leaves a big gap in many lives and I will miss her. 🕯️

 

The two ‘me’s are still both very busy, and I’m trying to get the second one to tone it down. It’s exhausting!

 

Some of you have asked how it’s going with the sleeping pills: for now, I’ll simply say “the jury is still out”.

 

Layla continues to stay close to me most of the time. Neria is her usual lovely, demanding self, and Gail is just wonderful.

 

I love you all so much 🌹❤️

 

2025 08 21

Hi everyone –

 

My appreciation to all of you for your good vibes, your messages of encouragement, and for taking calls from me when I need to speak.

 

This week has been one of the most difficult I’ve ever had.

 

It started well, after the chemo: on Saturday, while I was feeling pepped up, I drove myself to circle dancing. I was there for half the session, and I participated in two of the slower dances.

 

But by the end of Sunday, I had crashed. And it’s been like that ever since. Anxiety, depression, exhaustion, mostly staying in bed, sleeplessness ... the only relief I got was when I took the strong sedative on Monday night, slept at last, and then slept it off most of Tuesday. That is not sustainable!

 

Tomorrow, when I go for the Day 8 chemo drip, we will see what other meds could help with all of this.

 

It feels so weird, being someone who has coped until now, but I have to acknowledge my vulnerability and get help with this, in parallel with the practical things I’m already trying to do (which sometimes help and sometimes don’t).

 

Thanks again for all your love and support.

 

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

2025 08 27

Hi everyone –

 

More and more appreciation from me to you for all the love.

 

Last Friday, after chemo (which went well), I did have a consultation with Garth’s Medical Officer, Carissa van Aarde, who prescribed Urbanol to help me with anxiety and sleeping (we’ve stopped the other sleeping pills).

 

Urbanol is now helping me sleep much better and mostly feel less anxious. It also makes me less sharp-minded than usual, and allows more sadness to seep in. This all still feels so very foreign to me! And the chemo has more side effects than I expected. I have very little energy, most of the time, and spend time in bed or on the divan on the patio. (Photo: rainbow from a hanging crystal, on the divan cover’s fabric.)

 

I had been given to understand that my energy might increase. I’m waiting ...

 

I have just stopped my mentoring and editing work for DM168, which also makes me sad. But I should not be doing such work at the moment!

 

Gail is being an absolute star, helping me every step of the way.

 

Lots of love to all of you 🌹❤️

 

 

 

 

 

Update: July 2025

 

2025 07 06 (Sunday)

Hi everyone – time for an update ...

My hope for a better start to Cycle 2 of the oral chemo wasn’t realised – as soon as it (2600mg of chemo every single day for two weeks) started to kick in, I experienced almost a week of all-fall-down fatigue and down-in-the-dumps-ness, staying in bed almost all the time. I couldn’t even go to my circle dancing session on Thursday morning. Thanks, Gail and Vonni, for running the session on my behalf!

And then ... the smothering charcoal-coloured blanket suddenly started to lift, late on Friday. I was able to participate almost fully in yesterday’s circle dancing session that was dedicated to the tenth World Circle Dance Day (which is today). This felt miraculous to me!

I still have another four days of oral chemo before my week of respite, and I realise there will still be some ups and downs, but I’m so much more myself again. 🎉

My appreciation to the wonderful people who make up our dancing circle, and to Gail and all of you for helping me to keep on keeping on.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

Dancing, yesterday. (There are no photos of me on the other end of the scale! 😅)

2025 07 17

Hi everyone – I hope you are keeping warm (southern hemisphere) or cool (northern hemisphere)!

We’re keeping warm, but this chemo is not fun. Continuing the blanket metaphor, it’s heavy and charcoal coloured about 75% of the time, and lightweight, vivid colours and sparkly about 25% of the time.  It can completely change (in either direction) from one moment to the next.

Apparently this is unusual – this chemo doesn’t get most people down. For me, it’s entirely different from the chemo of two years ago, where I was one of the rare lucky ones.

In the ‘up’ times, I’ve been able to dance, to see family, to watch my niece Geraldine online as she graduated with a first class degree in Fine Art in London 🎉, to have my first solo walk with Neria since February, and to do some more work on my book.

This morning, having prepared everything last night for circle dancing, I realised that I really wasn’t ok to run my session. Gail (with a sore leg – nothing serious but temporarily not good for dancing) would not be able to do this either. So, for the first time since starting the group 15 months ago, I cancelled on the day. Appreciation to the people (many of whom are now reading this) who sent Gail and me such kind messages this morning.

(Photo: All dressed up and nowhere to go)

I had even changed the time of my three-weekly oncology appointment to this afternoon to accommodate dancing! Gail and I went to the appointment this afternoon and met Dr Mohamed, a GP who is assisting while Garth takes a much-needed holiday. Dr M confirmed that my blood tests show I’m ready to start oral chemo cycle 3 tomorrow (I’m glad my daily dose hasn’t been increased) and that my lung is still doing ok.

In three weeks’ time, which will be exactly the middle of the treatment, I’ll have a CT scan and Garth will assess how well the treatment has been helping (I’m sure that, physically, it is indeed helping).

Hoping for an increase in sparkly-blanket times and sharing more good times with all of you.

Much love, always 🌹❤️

 

2025 07 20

Hi everyone –

I hope the Capetonians are enjoying this beautiful weather, and everyone else is enjoying whatever they are doing, too. I’m also aware that many of us are dealing with various issues, be they health (own or that of others), loss, work, etc.

On Thursday night, the reason for my not feeling up to running my dancing session became clear: a very sore throat. Over the past couple of days, this has been joined by a cough, mostly at night and in the morning. Right now, as I sit on our warm patio and type this, I’m not coughing and my throat is fine, but if I have another night like last night I’ll contact Garth’s team and see what we should do.

I did start the chemo on Friday, as having a cold (or whatever this is) wasn’t a reason not to do it.

At the moment, it feels like the charcoal blanket is kind-of suspended, like Zuma’s showerhead was in Jonno’s cartoon of 2009. (In my case, it’s not about my ethics or actions – it’s about the effect of a strong drug on my energy and mood.)

On a more cheerful note, I’ve been walking around the garden every now and then, and yesterday I photographed four of the five varieties of geranium we have here (the fifth is being shy, right now).

Wishing you the best possible week that you can have.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

 

2025 07 30

Hi everyone –

For those who like short messages, the summary is: I’m generally fine; still grappling with various coloured “blankets”; back on some cold & flu meds after a short break from them.

For those who like all the details, read on ...

It’s hard to believe that  my most recent update was about 10 days ago. For most of that time, I was in bed, in a haze of cold & flu medication (Sinucon and ACC-200, for those who like details). For the first few days I felt as if I was wrapped in a warm, cream-coloured blanket, but then the caffeine in the Sinucon started to give me insomnia! After taking it until Sunday (as instructed), the coughing and sneezing was gone but the grey blanket was hovering 🙄.

My huge appreciation to Gail for all the care – even while she was dealing with what she’d probably caught from me. 🙏🏼

On Sunday – a beautiful day – I ventured round the corner to the water with Neria (my first time out in 11 days). On Monday I was a bit wobbly but went with Gail and Neria to the off-leash park; yesterday (Tuesday) was one of those rare summer-in-winter days, but the grey blanket was very low and I couldn’t really enjoy it.

Yesterday Gail and I also watched the beautiful funeral (on Zoom) of my cousin Richard, who died suddenly at 75 while on holiday with some of his family in Namibia. What wonderful and well deserved tributes from his daughters and his brother!

I also started feeling a bit breathless and wondered whether the pleural effusion or the infection was causing it, so today I contacted Garth’s team (CancerCare), who organised a chest X-ray.

Excellent news: there has been no change to the pleural effusion since the previous X-ray showed that the chemo was helping to reduce it (and it’s now two months since I last had a pleural tap). And I don’t have pneumonia – I had been worried about this, with my immunity reduced by the chemo. But they did put me back on the cold & flu meds – this time, I’ll only take Sinucon in the morning.

Sr Shelley, the head of the CancerCare chemo room, even came to find Gail and me in the hospital coffee shop to discuss the latter. She is also puzzled by the depressive effect on me of this oral chemo (it’s called Capeloda, by the way).

I found the visit and chat reassuring, and am now back in bed on this cold, wet and windy day (inevitable after yesterday’s stunning one) getting back into the haze of meds.

With all that’s happening at the moment, I reluctantly decided to pause my morning circle dancing group’s sessions for August and September. I will miss the dancers and the sessions! As and when I’m OK enough, I will continue to attend the Saturday afternoon sessions.

Tomorrow is day 14 of 14 for taking this round of oral chemo. Praying for some sparkles during the week of no chemo!

May you all be surrounded by love and sparkly blankets.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

Update: June 2025

 

2025 06 11

Hi everyone –

I hope you’re all doing well, and managing whatever life is throwing at you!

Or is that a projection? Maybe life isn’t throwing lots of things at you, right now – as it is at me.

This oral chemo (it’s been a week, now) is not a walk in the park! Neither literally nor figuratively. Garth was hoping that it would help me regain some energy, but thus far the opposite has happened (which may actually be because the chemo is doing its work). I’ve been spending most of my time in bed, sometimes feeling rather down.

I spoke to the chemo room sister, and she has arranged a prescription of Prednisone (steroids) to give me more energy.

There are also some wonderful glimmers:

·       The chemo seems to be working on the pleural effusion! 🎉🎉🎉 I’m not breathless at all.

 

·       I have managed to get myself up for a handful of special experiences: running a circle dancing Thursday morning session with lots of help (including from Julia), joining in where I could; we went to our friend Toni’s wonderful play, Cottonwool Kid, where she had a much deserved standing ovation; we had a family farewell tea for Julia and Julian here on Saturday (not that I wanted to say farewell to them, but it was a lovely “gesellige” afternoon on our enclosed patio with the rain pelting down outside).

 

·       My sister Rosemary has given rainbow crystals to many people in our extended family, and has asked them to think of me every time their crystal makes rainbows. (Photo of my crystal, brought by Jonno on his return from Sydney.)

At the same time, we’ve had some weird things happen, especially two:

·       On Sunday (Julia and Julian’s departure day), we woke up to a sodden floor in the passage. Gail and I were trying to work out what had caused it, and finally realised that evening that the geyser had burst! It was replaced yesterday. Whew!

  

·       Our main set of house keys (including remotes) vanished during the process of final packing and loading the car to go to the airport on Sunday. We have searched high and low, with some help from Rosemary in trying to visualise where they are ... gone!! And no, they have not pitched up in Julia and Julian’s luggage in London. 😢 It seems that we’re going to have all the locks and remote codes replaced, as there’s a chance that someone could have taken them in all our ins and outs on the day. I still think they’re in the house, but where??!!

We are insured for both of these expensive events. 😅 

Today’s glimmer: it’s a beautiful day today, and I’ve hung out a nice big load of washing (a favourite occupation). Now reclining on the patio, which is open to the elements on this warm, sunny day.

Please let me know how you are doing? It’s always good to know what’s happening in your lives.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

  

Four siblings and Marjorie! And an inset of the fifth sibling:

2025 06 26

Hi everyone – greetings from cold, wet and wintry Cape Town!

As I reach the end of my week off from oral chemo, I can really feel the difference! Those two weeks taking chemo were really gruelling and made me very wobbly, but I’m still sure it was like that because the chemo was doing its work. I continue to breathe easily! In this week off, I’ve stopped feeling wobbly, taught and done some circle dancing, seen a few people, wandered around Mineral World in Simon’s Town, and driven for the first time in four months!

I’ve also brought my book to the point where I could give it to a handful of beta readers and request someone to do a cover design.

Photo: a busy bee, like I’ve been this past week.

Yesterday I had the blood test to check that I’m ready for chemo Cycle 2 (of 6), as well as a lung X-ray for Garth to assess the pleural effusion. I have just seen him, and he has confirmed that the effusion is very small now – yay! – and given me the go-ahead to start Cycle 2 tomorrow. Holding thumbs for a less bumpy ride.

Right now, I’m in the chemo room at the hospital, having a 15-minute drip of bone-strengthening medication, which is standard before Cycle 2 of this chemo.

I’m sending good vibes and blessings to people close to me, especially one (you know who you are!), who are dealing with their own health issues right now.

And lots of love to everyone reading this. 🌹❤️

 Update: May 2025

2025 05 08

Hi everyone -

I hope you are doing well, or at least managing to deal with whatever life throws at you.

Today was quite a day for me!

I had fondly believed that by now I would be taking the new medication, would be over the effects of radiation, and would no longer need pleural taps. So today was the day my morning circle dancing group reconvened, 11 weeks after we last danced together. I had requested help from Gail, Vonni and Julia – this turned out to be the best possible plan, as none of my fond beliefs had been realised.

We had a wonderful session, with these three people and several more “holding the circle” (and me on the sidelines due to shortness of breath) – thank you all!

The new medication (oral chemo) will only start next week or the week after, as the blood test takes a long time to run.

I’m still tired, with slightly odd digestive cramps and discomfort, from the radiation.

And I needed a pleural tap urgently: they let me know, just before dancing, that it would be this afternoon! As usual, it was seriously horrible, and yet again it was 2 litres, and I’m still here to tell the tale.

In the time between dancing and the procedure, five of us – Gail, Julia, Maxine, Winnie and I – had a brief and beautiful time at Chart Farm.

I’m now resting at home with our little helpers.

Thanks so much for your good vibes and prayers and wishes – they are with me all the time.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

 2025 05 16

Thanks for all the lovely supportive messages over the past few days.

A weird thing happened, though: all hell seemed to break loose on Wednesday, my first day of chemo, together with spiking temperatures that night, and I thought I would never be able to continue. They asked me to pause the chemo and did yet another set of blood tests yesterday – they found that I have a hectic tummy bug, unrelated to the chemo! 😳

Chemo is paused until we sort this out (with the fistfuls of meds that I've become so used to in recent years 🙄).

Life is complicated!

Lots of love 🌹❤️

2025 05 22

Hi everyone –

More than a week after it started, the symptoms of this tummy bug are still coming and going. The medical team is going to do further tests (don’t ask!) to see exactly which bug it is.

As the bug has not left yet, I have not been able to start the oral chemo. We’re now aiming for very early next week.

There’s also the other ongoing question of my breathing, and I am again quite breathless (although our lovely new little oximeter confirms that I’m not short of oxygen!). Garth has requested that I try not to have a pleural tap at this stage. I’m very happy to oblige, even though my breathing doesn’t enjoy that so much – especially each evening. He wants this because we need to see, as quickly as possible, whether the chemo will start to help reduce the pleural effusion.

There have been some recent glimmers (this word is being popularised these days, as the opposite of “trigger” – it’s about the moments in one’s life when one feels joy, happiness, peace or gratitude) for me, the main one being that we celebrated Gail’s 70th birthday on Sunday, and I was able to be part of her small family lunch at Seaforth.

Today was both frustrating and glimmering: I wasn’t feeling well enough to teach (or even be at) my morning circle dancing group. So, for the first time in our 23 sessions, I handed over entirely to Gail and Vonni to run the session without me. The glimmer is that they did it beautifully (as I’ve heard from many people). This is what I wrote to the members (some of whom are also reading this, now) after today’s session:

 

My huge thanks and appreciation to Gail and Vonni, who ran the session so well in my absence, and to all of you for supporting them in many ways – with both the dancing and the logistics. Thanks to Bernice, who made a beautiful centrepiece from the “ingredients” I sent along, and to all the people who regularly help us to set up and pack away.

(Photo: the centrepiece.)

Thanks, as always, for your ongoing love and support.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

2025 05 29

16:50

Hi everyone –

Thanks for your support after my last message!

A lot has happened in the past week:

The initial response from the pathology test on my stomach bug was that no culture had grown, but that Dr Carissa Van Aarde (Garth’s other GP assistant) was going to prescribe an antibiotic anyway. I heard from her, today, that a culture had actually grown: salmonella! No wonder it was so bad and lasted so long.

I can only start the oral chemo after the course of antibiotics is complete and I have seen Garth again: early next week, if all goes as planned.

With all of these delays and increasing shortness of breath, I have not been able to avoid a pleural tap. This time, I’m going to have it as an inpatient, as that’s the quickest way for them to find a slot for me – if not later today (which is getting rather unlikely by now), then as soon as possible tomorrow.

So here I am, in “my” unit (haematology) of “my” hospital. Not quite my favourite “room with a view”, but actually next door to it in a four-person room. (Appreciation to Gail for going home to pack and bring my overnight bag! I didn’t expect to be admitted.)

This time, I have been given a sedative to put under my tongue if the pleural tap becomes intolerable ... let’s see.

There have been some glimmers over the past few days: circle dancing on Saturday (mostly chair dancing, but joining in when it was very sedate); a good friend’s 70th afternoon birthday gathering on Sunday; lovely photos of Rosemary’s family gathering in Sydney for Jonno; a visit from Julia on her return to Cape Town after a brief time in Gauteng and Kruger.

All in all: further lessons in patience. One can’t rush these things, no matter how much one wishes to!

Sending huge best wishes to everyone who is dealing with their own lessons in patience at the moment. There are many of us.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

19:50

They surprised me by taking me for the pleural tap at about 17:30!

This one was done sensitively and gently, with a cushioned surface to lean on, to my left, and an Ativan taken about 20 minutes before we started. Being late in the day, nobody was rushing anybody and we could chat while it happened. Around about 1.5 litres I did start coughing as usual, and they gave me some oxygen and some water, but I didn’t experience the almost-fainting, utterly desperate feelings of the previous three. I think the total amount was just below 2 litres.

Very tired now, but was able to eat the supper that had waited for me for about 90 minutes!

So glad it’s over, and thanks for all the good vibes! 🌹❤️

 

2025 05 30

Hi again –

Can you believe, I've just had pleural tap #5! This morning's X-ray suggested that this should be done, which was proved when a further litre emerged. Today’s radiologist was happy to use the same method of making it as comfortable as possible, which helped a lot.

 

I now weigh 3kg less than I did this time yesterday! (Not a recommended weight-loss method, though!)

The in-hospital physio gave me an excellent session this morning, and I will continue doing physio exercises from now on. (Interesting what you can access when you're an inpatient!)

I’ll spend tonight here again, and will have further physio tomorrow. Thanks for all the love, and enjoy whatever the evening holds for you.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

 

2025 05 31

Home!

Had a great physio session today. The physiotherapist recommended that I should do gentle walking every day (as there's no further sciatic pain), and also go for further outpatient physio (I will).

Thanks to Gail for bringing me home, and to Layla for welcoming me (Neria isn’t yet home from doggy daycare).

I hope the circle dancers are busy enjoying a fantastic session, right now!

Lots of love, always 🌹❤️