T minus 2 years

I thought once I finished active treatment the hard part was over. I was completely wrong. I have been drowning all year, and haven’t felt able to raise my hand.

Logic-brain hammers at me: you are lucky. So, so, lucky, lucky. How dare you be sad.

My tumor marker CA15-3 is 24 and has been stable there all year. I have a job! (Holy fuck, thank you, universe for finding me a job).  I should be grateful. I am grateful. But right now I don’t feel like my life has meaning for me.

Meaning #1

I am my mom’s caregiver.

My mom is basically autistic, although of course, we have no diagnosis because girls now aren’t getting diagnosed, let alone girls born in the 1950s. My mom isn’t able to navigate the world. She has meltdowns, which FYI are terrifying to grow up with. I thought it was only my mom so Holy Fuck and Praise Be the internet, meltdowns are a thing.  I’ve been looking after my mom since I was seven years old.

My mom has MS. This is such a sucky disease. It has taken away her ability to walk without care, to navigate the world thoughtlessly. She used to walk everywhere, dragging my reluctant ass along with cajoling and effervescent optimism. Now she’s fighting vertigo every step. She has to think consciously about every foot placement. If she forgets, if she lets her mind run forward to consider what she’s going to do when she gets wherever she’s going, her left and right feet conspire and tip her over. She falls a lot. When it’s on carpet the relief washes through me. When it’s on concrete outside I wonder how much time I have before my shift starts and how long the wait will be at Accident and Emergency at the hospital. And yet she’s still not broken anything. Grazes, torn clothes, bruises on the body and the ego, but no fractures.

My mom also has a brain tumor. I know, it’s crazy. To those who have little, even that shall be taken away. The tumor meant she had to stop working back in 2017 after she made some irrational decisions. Well, they weren’t her decisions. Let’s say the tumor made some irrational decisions. And it has spirited words away from her mind. We play daily guessing games to hunt for misplaced nouns.

We met with my mom’s neurologist last month. The tumor hasn’t grown. And her MS is stable, there’s no more degeneration. Possibly this is related to the greatly decreased stressed now that she’s not working. I mean, there’s still a terrifying blackness where the entire interior of her brain was. The dark that devoured the woman she used to be and has left me living with a looking glass version of herself.

So my mom will go on like this . . . forever. Or another 30 years, whichever comes first. For longer than me, almost certainly.

There’s never going to be an end to this for me. Never going to be a time I can leave the house without saying where I am going. Never a time I can spontaneously decide to have a weekend away, or decide to hell with dinner, I’m having toast in bed watching Netflix. And that makes me want to cry. I want to look after her. I just figured I’d have 20 years after she died I could have just for myself. But that won’t happen.

So my life has meaning in that my being here allows my mom to live at home, have a nice life, to be free of pain and fear. That has value.

Meaning #2

I am my daughter’s future financial stability.

Wow, we really fucked over the younger generations, didn’t we. Especially here in NZ with house prices. Before I had cancer I had no debt. I owned my house outright and that is because I was lucky enough to get on the property ladder in the 90s recession, with the worst house in a good street. I worked in customer service for a fashion brand, and my salary was exactly the same as it is now. Twenty years and salaries at the bottom end didn’t move a skerrick. It took holding down three jobs at a time and plenty of weekends where there was zero money and I was down to eating that rogue jar of pickles that had been pushed way to the back of the fridge since Christmas. But I was lucky.

Because of cancer, I have a mortgage now, and I’m about to consolidate my extremely unhealthy credit card debt. The Mortgage should be paid off in 9 years 7 months, the other debt in 5 years, I need to stay alive and working in order to leave my daughter a house she can rent out (please, universe, let her choose a stable passive income over cash she could accidentally misspend).

But a big part of me  – most of me – that thinks it would be more valuable for her to have the money now. She can sell my house and buy one close to where she works in her city. She and her partner could seriously plan to have a child: something that cannot be done on two median incomes as renters. If I was gone I would make her life a lot easier, sooner. But it would only work if I was gone and my mom was also gone. While my mom is still alive my death would make things much harder for my daughter, not easier. And it’s likely my daughter will have children in the next 5 years or so. I can provide valuable child-sitting services during school holidays. That’s worth serious cash.

So, on balance, more value if I continue.

Meaning #3

I am a listening human who cares.

I am so grateful to have my job. I truly believe the benevolent universe has my back and gave me this job to get me through the rest of my life. I work in a contact center for a government department. I talk mostly with people who are upset: whose lives have been derailed. Sometimes they threaten self-harm. Once a caller threatened to hunt down the minister’s home address and meet him on his doorstep with a firearm. I wish he hadn’t said this. He seemed like a decent human knee-jerking in frustration, but of course, we had to call the police. That first bit is a lie. He seemed like a privileged white male Boomer who for once in his life hadn’t got everything he wanted the second he demanded it and I wanted to shout at him, to drag him into my headphones and make him hear the people who are actually suffering.

I can never fix what is wrong: that is not in my power. But I can listen. I can be a genuine person on the other end of the line who acknowledges their pain. I can show them the way forward if they’re ready to take that step.

I am good at my job, which is ironic because in my Ph.D. thesis introduction I literally named my worst fear: working hard for my Ph.D. and still ending up working in a call center. Which, yep, is exactly where I am. But the call center feels safe. The crew is lovely compared to the 99% of academics who are gigantic vindictive petty assholes. My crew embraces difference. We are pegs who can only dream of being a nice stable square or circle. Pegs hewn from raw branches twisted by the winds of economics and shitty growing conditions of brain chemistry. Pegs for whom no hole has been calibrated. But together we weave a stable form.

My empathy has value.

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Photo by Patrick Hendry via Unsplash

The thing I’m struggling with is where is my meaning? Where’s the thing that gives my life value? No, not value. All that above, that is value. Where’s the thing that brings me FUCKING JOY? I work six days a week for not much above minimum wage and I can only pay my bills if I do that extra sixth day of overtime.

The days are fog-painted, each one endless, yet, en masse, darting like swallows around a wharf as they circle the core of my life. Get up. Do . . . what? I have no idea where the days go. But they go. And then it’s 3pm and I’m showering and dressing so I can look like I haven’t stopped caring and then I am at work and wishing for my 8pm lunch break and then it’s midnight and I drop my co-worker off and come home and sit on my sofa and  watch YouTube until it’s 2am and I’ve stopped replaying the night’s calls and failures in my head and I’m tired enough to sleep. Or not. Sometimes it’s 5am and I’m lying awake with the covers thrown back, dabbing away Tamoxifen sweat.

And the voice in my head never shuts up counting, never shuts up bargaining, never shuts up wondering. Two years, Em, Two years left of the median survival. Was the last eighteen months worth it? Was that worth you being on the planet for? And you want fucking more? That news article about a woman with stage 4 who lived 20 years, could I dare think . . . ? No. Never ask for too much. Don’t be greedy. Ten years? No, not ten. Counting chickens, and all that. But maybe you could get five years. Maybe? That would leave you with another 3.5 years now. What are you going to do with them? What’s worth the last 42 months of your life? If you’re not going to contribute anything in the next 12 months what the hell is the point of having another 30 beyond that?

I want to find my joy in writing but I’m not writing. I want to have written. Don’t we all. When I was diagnosed with cancer all I thought about was the tiny story embryos I was carrying. I want to take them to full term, but more than that, I want them to be out in the world even if that has to be as misshapen first instars, slimed with imperfection. But the days drift by as I try to make myself get out of bed, put my fingers on the keys, prise the words from my tongue and force them, writhing, to the page, and still there are no books, there are no more stories.

Maybe I need a tattoo. On my brain.

Stop Whining. Just Write.

Stop Whining. Just Write.

Stop Whining. Just Write.



My blog has been basically on hiatus for over a year.

In January 2018 I found a lump in my breast. It was large enough to be pushing out against my bicep and I was a cup size larger on my right side. That lump turned out to be a big, aggressive tumor and I was diagnosed with de novo stage 4 breast cancer. De novo means when I was first diagnosed I was already stage 4.

Stage 4 cannot be cured, but it can be treated.

I have metastases (secondary tumors) in my liver and lungs. I spent 2018 doing chemotherapy and radiation therapy, and I had a double mastectomy without reconstruction.

This sounds bad but I have been incredibly lucky.  I’m under 50, which gives me a slightly longer life expectancy than if I were over 50. I’m healthy, overall. My blood pressure was down to normal before my diagnosis. (I shall now disclose to you that when I was still working at the university it was 180/126. I was about to have a stroke. I’m so glad I don’t work there anymore.)

And I’m even luckier to have had people to walk with me all through the last year. I couldn’t have done it without my friends’ support. I owe them everything.

More good fortune: because I wasn’t able to work for 10 months, if I’d still been in Auckland, I wouldn’t have been able to make my mortgage payments and I would have lost my condo to foreclosure, or, best case scenario, lost a shit-ton of money from an urgent sale. Because I moved to my small town three months before diagnosis, I had no mortgage, and although to clear my debts I have now had to take a loan out against the house, I still have a house. Isn’t that the damndest timing? Thank you, universe!

In December 2018 I was well enough to start full-time work again. I am incredibly fortunate to have found a safe, secure Day Job with 15 sick days a year, four weeks’ annual leave, and if a medical appointment is under 2 hours duration I don’t even need to lodge a request for time off.

Working full time is an ongoing struggle, I won’t lie. My medication causes fatigue and joint/bone pain. Some days are tough, but the pain is a blessing because I’m still here to feel it.

Much more important than my Day Job is writing down the stories in my head before I’m gone. This is my focus right now.

Overall, I am awesome. My metastases responded well to chemo. I’m on tamoxifen, which is like weed mat for tumors, and it’s working for me.  My last three blood tests show my key tumor marker – CA15-3 – is down in the totally normal range i.e. the cancer is beaten back for the present. Aside from tamoxifen, I’m done with treatment (for now). I look forward to a future of regular blood tests and CT scans, and at some point the cancer will come back, but then we’ll try a different drug, and then a different one, and then another, and by that time, with luck, I’ll have a bunch more options currently in development, like immunotherapy.

So how long have I got? There’s no way to tell.

The average life expectancy following a stage 4 diagnosis in New Zealand is 16 months. Isn’t that shocking? That figure is skewed by the lack of timely, accessible, and culturally appropriate primary health care for Maori and Pasifika women, leading to late diagnosis and therefore fewer treatment options. I have huge privilege, and I will live longer than 16 months.

Going by US figures, median survival for my age group is 39.2 months, which statistically gives me until mid-2021. The five-year survival rate – i.e. till 2023 – is 36%, which isn’t negligible. There’s definitely a good chance I will make that.

Statistics never tell the whole story. Survival rates necessarily come from people who were diagnosed in the past, and cancer treatments get better every year. The 5-year survival rate doubled between 1992 and 2012, so the longer I live, the better the chance I can see the development of more effective treatments.

The 10-year survival rate is 14.9%.

I choose to live as if that’s not true. I choose to live as if I have 35 more years. 2054. C’mon, universe, let’s take that ride. I have a total solar eclipse to see.

I will blog about cancer stuff from time to time. Not all the time, but definitely sometimes. If this is triggering for you, you might want to stop following my blog. I’ll miss you. There will be blood tests. There will be CT scans. There will definitely be more chemo in the future: hopefully many, many years from now, but I have no control over that timing. And I’m going to want to talk about all this. I’m more keen on talking about notebooks, and planners, and climate change, and science, and the cat who adopted me while I was laid up on the sofa recovering from surgery (I can’t wait to tell you about him). But the cancer will always be lurking in the shadows. That’s what it does.

Fuck cancer. I have sunlight to bask in, words to carve, and a cat to pet. The world is gorgeous and I’m so glad to be in it today.


Emperor Gum Moth

I’ve been waiting to see one of these guys since I was seven years old and my classmate brought one of the caterpillars to school for show and tell. I could never even find a caterpillar. It’s an Emperor Gum moth, introduced to New Zealand from Australia in 1939. The adults live for only two weeks, without feeding, just to mate and lay eggs.

I nearly missed him, even though his wingspan was nearly the length of my outstretched hand. He was lurking on a footpath at the base of a wall. I was there again the next day but he was gone.

This is an amazing planet. I’m so happy to live on it.

Thanks, Universe.

moth 2moth 1

The ‘Tab Snooze’ Chrome extension makes my life better

Hi, my name is Em and I have a browser tab problem. If I don’t watch myself like a hawk I can have 20 or 30 of those suckers open at any one time. This is a bad thing. And my daughter laughs at me.

When I’m warming up for the day, or unwinding, I jump on Feedly and Reddit and Tumblr to explore the day’s latest in science and octopuses and climate change, and planner and books and Ao3, and and the next thing I know my Mac is wheezing and panting like I asked it to climb Ben Nevis. This presents a problem for my ADHD brain, because once I have all the websites open I can’t decide how to categorize them. Do I want to keep the whole page as reference in my Evernote exobrain? Do I want to record a future date to take action? Do I need to read that fic now, or should it wait? Do I want to forward that info to someone? And so I sit, paralyzed, not working. Not doing anything.

Tab Snooze solves this problem for me. I simply snooze a tab and voila, it vanishes, to be recalled tonight, or tomorrow, in the weekend, next month, or, indeed, any time I tell it to come back. And when it’s recalled, the delay has allowed me to now know what I want to do with it. A lot of the time I want to just close it and move on, but in the original moment I felt too stuck to make that decision. Tab Snooze lets me take action.

Such a simple thing, but wow, this makes my life better.

If information overload is also a problem for you, Tab Snooze for Chrome is free, and you can download it here.


Related to my Morgellons interest, Aeon has a fabulous in-depth piece by Mary Beth Pfeiffer on the increasing impact of ticks and tick-borne illness in the crest of climate change.

Apparently, this is an excerpt from Pfeiffer’s book Lyme: The First Epidemic of Climate Change which comes out later this month. There’s no Kindle edition listed presently: I hope the publisher adds one so I can check it out.

Trailer for upcoming documentary on drones

What techniques do you think we’ll develop to keep drones out of stadiums and other pricey sports events? Will there be bootleg Olympics broadcasters the way there used to be pirate radio stations? How do you run security checkpoints when you can simultaneously fly hundreds of twenty-dollar drones carrying dirty bomb material over the walls at an infinite number of weak points?

Book release: Taking His Omega Mate


I have a new M. Caspian book live on Amazon. You can read it on Kindle Unlimited, if you’re a member.

Alpha Quinn Peters has spent the last six years trying to prove he was better than the father who kicked him out at sixteen, and hiding from the memory of Theo, the omega he couldn’t protect. He never dreamed his past would catch up with him on a night out with a new business partner. Can Quinn finally take his happily ever after?
This work of fiction contains explicit sexual activities and scenes of sexual assault and humiliation. Also a happy ending.

This is a stand-alone novelette of 14,070 words, complete in itself, that also functions as a prequel to the novel I will release in May.

Huge thanks to Natasha Snow for the amazing cover, and to Jenni Lea of Proof Your Love for saving two thousand commas from the dungeon of my punctuation abuse.


Free planner download: undated weekly work plan

I needed a weekly work plan with a time tracker and, apparently, the downloads run for US $4.15 on Etsy. This seemed like a lot, so I made one. This is sized for B5 – a Leuchtturm Composition notebook –  but you can resize it using this website here if you want A5 or A4 or something else. It will also fit a regular Mead composition notebook, or a Decomposition notebook, but will leave you an extra half inch-ish space down one edge.

Free download is here: week focus B5

Or if you’re a writer, this one has a weekly word count tracker on it too: week focus B5 with word count

Screenshot 2018-03-20 20.36.31

Review: Neuroplanner by Kar Villard


I joined the Kickstarter for this planner last year, but it turned out to not be a planner I wanted to use in 2018. It’s more of a productivity guide, as the weekly/monthly planning pages are interspersed with what is literally a small book on how to run your life and priorities. This would be a great planner for someone heading to college for the first time, or who hasn’t yet explored productivity, task management, and goal setting. Singaporean designer Kar Villard currently has a second edition running on Indiegogo, although with 3 days left to run this hasn’t yet gained enough traction to be funded.


It’s an undated A5 planner – so the exact same size as a Hobonichi Cousin – with a Monday start for both weekly and monthly spreads. The planner has two ribbon bookmarks in coral and powder blue. The bookmark colors mean that 5 out of 5 male Kiwi tradies in my impromptu focus group would not be prepared to use it (because fragile masculinity and peer pressure, aka bullying). In addition, the advice sections talk about “dating too many men,” “the cute guy who always sits in the same spot in the cafe,” and the attraction of “his hair and the smell of a good aftershave,” so although the cover colors are gender-neutral the overall tone of the planner definitely seems aimed at humans identifying as women and who perform normative heterosexual femininity. The designer, Kar Villard, projects a normative female identity, and from the tone of the planner this seems like a personal project in which she is speaking to other humans just like her.

The navy or black cover is vinyl (aka “vegan leather”) and there’s a notch in the spine so you can slip a pen in and carry it without needing an external pen loop. There’s a soft elastic band on the back cover to hold the planner closed. This is looser than I prefer, but I guess that leaves a lot of room for your planner to bulk up with use. It’s about the same tension as a Moleskine, but the elastic is a nicer quality with a slightly plush texture.

The cover is debossed with the Neuroplanner logo and name. The planner is 2cm thick (3/4 of an inch). Overall it feels very nice in my hand and looks smart and efficient. This is definitely a planner you could use in a professional setting. The paper is cream, with dark grey printing. It feels smooth, like Rhodia/Clairefontaine. I’m not doing a pen test, sorry, as I will find a good home for this planner so I want to keep it unused.

The planner starts with a five-page guide and introduction.


Then there’s a two-page quick-view calendar running from October 2017 to March 2020.


Each month starts with a two-page spread for focus/goal setting/brainstorming, then there’s the monthly spread, which is followed by five weekly spreads.



The month spreads only have 5 weeks, but there is enough dot grid below the layout to allow you to draw in an extra row for the 6th week on the couple of months that require it.


The weekly spread includes separate columns for Saturday and Sunday (which I consider essential). The days are divided into hourly appointments from 7am to 10pm, with a space at the top for a daily focus. The spread has room for a weekly mindset, three focus items, six home to-dos, and six work to-dos, as well as five habit trackers and an open dot grid area.

At the back of the planner are 13 pages of 5mm dot grid paper (6 sheets + one single side).

dot grid

Inside the back cover is a paper pocket with ribbon reinforcement on the gusset.


What makes this planner different is the productivity information. There are 48 double-page spreads on aspects of creating a productive life, incorporating handy tips from neuroscience (hence, the name of the planner).

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instructions 2

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These spreads cover: creating a vision, setting and achieving goals, how to form a routine and how to learn, dubunking productivity myths, nutrition, fitness, multitasking and planning, creativity, non-romantic relationships, romantic relationships, future planning, and neuroplasticity.


While the productivity information is useful I really hate it being interspersed with the planner pages. So, you get monthly goals, the month spread, then an info spread, a week spread, an info spread, a week spread, an info spread, and then two final weeks – a total of four double-page info spreads per month. That takes up a lot of space. I’d much rather these pages were instead dot grid pages, and the planner came with a booklet of this productivity info, sized to slip inside the back pocket. I could paste plain paper over these info pages, but even if I use tomoe river paper that’s going to bulk up the planner a hell of a lot. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting when I backed the project. I liked the idea of the neuroscience. It’s just that in person I realize I don’t want to actually use this product the way the planning and the information are sliced together.

My least favorite part of the planner is the section on Romance, in which Villard says, “physical attraction . . . [is the] first thing that draws us to the other person.” For asexuals this is simply not true. We are definitely talking normative NT sexuality, here.

Other nitpicks: Villard also calls humans a “race” of animals, instead of a species (section 37). And in section 40, Offspring, Villard says, “When you start to have children . . . ” I would definitely have been more comfortable with the phrasing “If you decide to have children . . .”

Kar Villard is doing a whole lot of promotion and expansion of the Neuroplanner concept, including an online community called Think Tank, and a separate booklet of the productivity pages which she recently Kickstarted. If she produces the planner without so very much productivity info it would be more useful for most people, but then I’m not sure what the point of difference would be. The current campaign on Indiegogo is asking US$40 for the planner, and for that you do get access to the online community, but in all other respects, it’s pretty much identical to any other weekly A5 planner like the compact Passion Planner (US $25) or the Transcending Waves Planner (US$19.97), although those both offer 30 min appointment intervals instead of the more cumbersome hourly spots.


Neoruplanner weekly spread



Transcending Waves weekly spread



Compact Passion Planner weekly spread


So, yeah, overall this wasn’t the planner for me, but if the neuroscience tips sound useful and you’re new to organizing your life and/or time, then this might work great for you. If you are in NZ and want to try this planner I’m happy to send this one to you for free: just email me.

Help Kickstart a Morgellons documentary

Remember my post about Morgellons and alpha-gal? Filmmaker Pi Ware is heading a team who just started raising funds on Kickstarter to produce a documentary on Morgellons. The participants look interesting: a mix of both “it’s a kind of Lyme disease” and “it’s psychological.”

Although film projects can be dodgy to back, apparently they’ve, “filmed 80% of our footage already . . . We just need this funding to get us to the editorial finish line.”

The Kickstarter campaign finishes 3 March. I hope they make it. I’m intrigued to see what they come up with.