February 9, 2026
My mom, Lillian, suffered from a myriad of lifestyle diseases and was quite ill during the last few years of her life. She had severe heart disease and dementia and eventually lost her independence and ability to care for herself.
But there was one thing she never lost — her sense of humor.
Which, thankfully, I inherited.
Even during her frequent ambulance trips to the hospital in congestive heart failure, she had the handsome young paramedics in absolute stitches. I think that’s where I got my moxie.… or possibly my inappropriate timing. I crack up my doctors so much I honestly think they should start paying me, or at least stop billing me for stand-up 🤣.
I’m so grateful for my three weekly improv classes with Patrick Bristow, where I not only laugh my tushie off with a bunch of my plant-based peeps, but also get to hone my skills. (If you’re interested in joining the fun, just send us an email.)
As much as I try to stay positive and look on the bright side, if I’m being honest, I really haven’t felt well in a very long time — at least since March 6, when I started cancer treatment. And even though I had my 6th and final Keytruda infusion on September 23, the damage it caused throughout my body has not been fully reversed, and I don’t know if it ever will be.
So while I do my best to remain hopeful that one day I might feel like my pre-cancer self again, I also have to accept that this may be as good as it gets. (Which, I admit, was not on my vision board.)
With a blessing from the Rabbi, I finally started the porcine pancreatic enzymes, but it’s too soon to tell if they’re helping. All my breath tests are negative, so unless they discover another reason for the constant bloat, I may have to accept that this is just what I may always look like. (Thank God for Spandex – the real unsung hero of my healing journey 😂)
Since the PEF ablation on January 22, I’ve also been struggling with asthma. I haven’t had asthma since I left LA over seven years ago, but there’s something about general anesthesia that always seems to trigger it for me. I’m constantly puffing on two different inhalers like I’m auditioning for the role of the 3rd Little Pig! But I still remain hopeful that this too shall pass.
Normally, I’d be put on steroids, but my doctors don’t want to use them unless absolutely necessary because they don’t want to further suppress my immune system.
Other than my lungs and belly being a bit out of whack, on many days, I actually feel pretty good. That said, I tire quite easily and often have to nap and just can’t get as much done as I used to. How the heck did I ever do at least one live show daily for 4 1/2 years? As Lillian would say, “The old gray mare… she ain’t what she used to be.”
When I look back over the past year, I honestly don’t know how I managed to keep working at times. I guess 66 days of pancreatitis completely changed my relationship to pain and really tested my resiliency.
What I know for sure is this: the quality of my life matters more to me than the length of it. And it’s hard to fully enjoy life when you feel unwell so much of the time. That’s why I decided not to pursue any more conventional cancer treatment. It’s simply too hard on my body.
If I could feel this unwell for so long and have so many side effects from the gentlest cancer treatments (immunotherapy and PEF ablation), I can’t imagine how I’d tolerate the so-called “standard of scare” — chemo, surgery, and radiation.
The doctors want to try targeted oral therapy, but I’m so medically sensitive that I honestly can’t imagine tolerating it very well. The urgent care docs affectionately call me, “a delicate flower” — which sounds nice until you realize flowers also wilt very easily 😂.
I’m really hoping the ablation was successful, but I won’t know until April 22. Instead of spending the next three months worrying— which I’m already exceptionally good at — I’ve decided to spend them accepting and making peace with what is — and enjoying and appreciating what I do have.
From the Puppy Files 🐾
After 15 years, I’ve finally realized my dream of having two dogs. And let me tell you — having two dogs isn’t twice as fun as having one… it’s about 2,000 times as funand approximately 4,000 times louder. Who even needs TV when you have round-the-clock entertainment?
It’s been less than a month, and Shiloh and Trixie are inseparable.
They play all day — and still somehow find time to nurse me back to health.
I know everyone thinks their dog is the smartest, but mine really is. She even knows how to read!
