For the past few weeks, I’ve been uncertain what to plan for: living or dying. I’ve been hedging my bets on both, trying to wrap up some loose ends while also making a lot of plans for when I would feel better. It’s been confusing, I’m sure, to see from the outside. Am I dying or getting better? Truthfully, I had hoped to get better for a little bit before dying.
Today my VIP hormone levels came back. The VIP hormones produced by my tumors are what make me so sick. They are higher than ever. This means that the PRRT wasn’t magic this time. It’s not the antibiotics that are making me so sick. The cancer is still making me sick.
I don’t know how much time I have left. I don’t want to live on IV fluids and electrolytes anymore, and I plan on stopping those next week. I had optimistically planned a short vacation I still might take when I thought I might be better soon. I would like to cobble together a plan so I can take my vacation.
I have so many boring logistical things to do.
I was going to do some sort of living wake like someone I knew in Columbus had done maybe the weekend after Labor Day. It’s like a going-away party but more permanent.
This whole year has been a long goodbye. I’m sorry if I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to you before now.
I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now. I feel really terrible but when my mom started talking about trusting in God and how He knows what He is doing, I had to hang up. I can’t hear it. I apologized and told her I would talk to her another time. I need to just sit and be.
Hi Josie. Just read your story in The NY Times, went through your blog, got to know you a bit, (as much as someone can get to know someone through a blog ☺️). Your writing is inspirational, your strength and fortitude empowers me.
Just want to thank you for sharing your journey and to know that I see you and it is with gratitude I wish you peace for all of the rest of your life. 🙏🏻
Thank you very much for your kind words and for reading! I appreciate it!
You’re more ill than you let on in your excellent NY Times piece, and I am sorry to hear that.
I have cancer too and while I’m being consistent with my near-zip record of success with dating, I still have moments of yearning for what you wrote about. Odd, isn’t it? These vestigial desires.
B.
Yes, when I wrote the piece I was feeling better and took a turn for the worse over the past several months. Good luck with dating. It’s always difficult, and cancer doesn’t help.
Dear Ms Rubio,
I just read your NY Times article, and that made me curious enough to Google you and find your blog. I has sorry to read your latest entry, and see that your illness has taken a turn for the worse.
I just wanted you to know that your article and your blog really touched me, and I have the deepest admiration for the vitality and humor you show in the face of such difficulty. I hope so much that you get past all of this and live to see happier days. And failing that, I hope that you are surrounded now by true friends and family.
Your writing has made me think a lot of how much I take for granted. Yours is not a story that I will forget.
Sincerely, Whitney White
Thank you so much for your kind words! I appreciate it!
Hi Josie – I came across your piece in the NYT, which lead me to your Twitter and then to here. All I wanted to tell you is that I found your writing and courage inspirational, and that from everything I’ve read, you seem like a fascinating person I wish I’d found earlier. I
I truly hope to be able to continue reading your writing for years to come, but even moreso, I just hope you’re happy and as well as you possibly can be. I’m not religious so I have no prayers to offer, but you will be in my thoughts, and I hope whatever that trip is, you take it.
Thank you! I appreciate it!
You are doing great. Please know that someone in Michigan is rooting for you.
Thank you!
Thank you for your blog. I am 3 years into cancer treatments. 5 surgeries, chemo, radiation, immunotherapy etc.. The C bitch keeps growing. Had a nice dinner with friends last night and felt normal for 2 hours. Your article in NYT today lifted my spirits. I’m divorced and also attempting to date with my BFFS encouragement. This journey gets lonely. A lot. Any advice on profile writing appreciated! Regardless, I honestly understand and appreciate your words.
Thank you for your blog. I am 3 years into cancer treatments. 5 surgeries, chemo, radiation, immunotherapy etc.. The C bitch keeps growing. Had a nice dinner with friends last night and felt normal for 2 hours. Your article in NYT today lifted my spirits. I’m divorced and also attempting to date with my BFFS encouragement. This journey gets lonely. A lot. Any advice on profile writing appreciated! Regardless, I honestly understand and appreciate your words.
Thank you for reading my post! Honestly, my friends and I were goofing around when I wrote my profile, but we’re all writers. I sat in my friend’s kitchen with a glass of wine and wrote the first line about the cancer and figured if people wanted to know more, then they would ask. Everyone asked on the first or second date. The rest was just the regular stuff: What I like to do, etc. I think it said I’m a former goth and metal girl, I like going to shows, that I am a writer and editor and I work in the arts. I said everyone says they like to travel and do yoga and I do too. I kept the cancer stuff pretty light. It’s a part of who I am now, but it’s not everything. Good luck out there! Dating is hard. I honestly didn’t find cancer to make much of a difference in the long run. Find a friend who can commiserate. That was key. Without my dating app Sherpa and friends to laugh about everything, it would have been depressing instead of fun/funny.
Your strength to go on living in the face of unimaginable circumstances is incredible. Your article on dating was articulate , funny , and sobering all at once. Well done ! I hope your medical team can come up with something to make you feel a bit better ASAP. Best regards.
Ahh Josie. Your delightful intelligence and sparkling wit are matched only by that beautiful face of yours. Life is full of paradoxes as you know. As a hospice volunteer these last 7 years, I have learned that just because we are dying doesn’t mean we aren’t living. It tears at my heart that we may be losing such a courageous and beautiful Soul as you, Josie. And when that uncooperative body of yours ends its run, your sweet spirit will live on. It will certainly live on in my heart for I see in you the purpose all human beings have the opportunity for, to be an invitation to intimacy. You have opened your heart and love itself is reflecting your own beauty back to you. Damn girl, you are smart, gorgeous, authentic and dying. I am carrying you in my heart. I will put your name into the Men’s Fire (my men’s group) this week. If I lived nearby, I would offer to hold you in my arms. Alas I will do my best by holding you in my heart.
In loving appreciation, Scotty
You are a brave young woman. I volunteered at MD Anderson for seven years and learned so much about the value of life and courage from those I served. Your spirit is very strong and I pray no matter what happens, vacation, no vacation, you are able to enjoy time with those you love. Take care of yourself and know you have people beaming you strength and peace.