My palliative status scares some; perhaps the idea of death gets in the way. I am palliative - a 'pal gal' as I like to call it. But folk seem by nature to look the other way, either minimizing my illness or imagining me dying.

The palliative zone is uncharted territory. I am not living in the regular sense of the word - I do not have much energy and am at the hospital a lot - unsalaried, of course. I am also not quite dying - death is a trajectory, and I am still just this side of the fence.

I want to start a collective here in Toronto called "The Pal Gals." If anyone wants to sign up, email me at keylight and we can share stories, tips and experiences.

Movies and plays like to appeal to human sentiment. Illnesses are often long violin-swept affairs or death is sudden. But there are few depictions of the more common reality: a person with active cancer living a full life, while dealing with frequent health crises and limitations. From my perspective, this is normal life. Instead of juggling kids, I am juggling cancer invasions and side effects. The result is the same - not enough sleep and frequent unwelcome interruptions in my schedule.

I registered for the palliative care ward at Princess Margaret Hospital the other day - great people - they told me they're building a palliative care center in the hospital, due to the kindness of a family who had lost a loved one. I offered to donate a photo and left them my catalogue. A few days later the architects of the project called and we got together. My nature based images will be in all the windows between the corridor and the patients' rooms. Besides photographs, I am giving them a client-based perspective for the project. It feels like I am helping decorate my final home. I sign up for palliative care and come home with a job....

I have discovered that the sicker I get, the blacker my humor becomes. I saw the radiation oncologist last Friday. One of my cancers does not form tumors and given my symptoms could be marching in my skull and who knows where else right now. One solution is radiation - either the whole head or around the base of the skull and eyes. The doc said he would prefer to do the whole head. If we radiate half and cancer infiltrates the brain, it would be

hard to radiate exactly the top portion - they would have toleave a gap. Personally, I like gaps. He said they can control side effects and there may be a bit of memory loss in a year or so. My pal Coni asked him if it would interfere with daily life? Like would I forget to turn off the stove? He said, well maybe. I asked him if I would be hiding my own Easter eggs. Coni laughed. He said, perhaps. I think I will wait - and try to illuminate my head by other means at present; like meditation. Perhaps.