November 10, 2025
Hi Friends,
Lately I’ve been thinking about my mom and how much I wish she were here to comfort me. It’s funny how we don’t always appreciate our parents until they’re gone. I was abandoned by my abusive father and raised by a working mother who didn’t have much time, so our relationship was… let’s just say “spicy.” We fought a lot and it was strained right up until the end.
But now I can see she really did the best she could, and she did a lot right. One thing I miss most is her sense of humor(which, thankfully, I inherited 😉) and the way she’d say, whenever I was sick: “You’re gonna be OK.”
The hard part is… I don’t actually know if I am going to be OK. And I haven’t heard anyone say that to me in a very long time.
If you know the 5 stages of grief, for the past 3 years I feel like I’ve just been ping-ponging between anger, bargaining, depression, and denial—never quite landing on acceptance. It’s like I keep circling the airport and can’t land.
And can we talk about doctors for a second? I feel like some of them should have five extra letters after “M.D.”:
M.D., P.O.D.A.G. — Purveyors Of Doom And Gloom.
(You heard it here first. 😂)
Right now I’m not even really “treating” my lung cancer — I’m managing the side effects. Since starting Keytruda I’ve seen 28 different specialists (yes, I counted) and developed 21 new medical conditions that I believe are all from that drug. So I hope you’ll understand my decision to stop immunotherapy for now and see if my body can heal.
This week was another “A Doctor A Day Keeps the Joy Away” week.
- Monday: Stanford physiatrist. Drove 7 hours round trip to hear, “There’s nothing I can do for your pain.” (Thanks, that was worth the gas 🙃). At least he admitted my conditions were “suspicious for Keytruda.”
- Tuesday: Podiatrist. Good news: I can finally take off the boot. He ordered an MRI.
- Wednesday: I added someone new to Team AJ — a social worker who specializes in palliative and hospice care to help with cancer anxiety.
- Thursday: Nurse practitioner for the newly diagnosed sleep apnea.
- Friday: MRI + GI doctor for my glamorous duo: chronic diarrhea and bloating.
The GI Doc said vegan pancreatic enzymes don’t work and he wants me to take the porcine ones. But as a Jewish ethical vegan, I just cannot bring myself to swallow pig parts. I mean… I won’t even eat animals when I’m healthy, you think I’m gonna eat them when I’m sick?? 🤦🏻♀️
So that was my fun-filled week!
You’ve probably heard: “Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.”
Well, I would love to know HOW to do that. Because right now it feels like both pain and suffering RSVP’d “YES” and brought a casserole.
Maybe it’s time to re-read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning and try (again) to find the silver lining in all this. But seriously… how do I do that when all I see are clouds?
Here’s what I realized:
A lot of my suffering is about things that haven’t even happened yet. I get so scared of what might happen that I miss what is happening.
I’ve been so consumed by the fear of dying that I’ve been missing the joy of living.
So this week I made myself do something that was pure joy (besides improv): I lay in the hammock with Shiloh by my side and just… looked at a tree.
As my mom would say: “I’m in good shape… for the shape I’m in.”
So I’m asking you, because I know so many of you are dealing with your own diagnoses, caregiving, grief, and mystery symptoms:
What do YOU do for joy each week?
Hit reply and tell me. I really want to know.
With love (and without pig enzymes ),
💜 AJ
P.S. If you want to hang out with me online (on the days I’m not in 14 waiting rooms), you can join my Chef AJ & Friends Community. We get together every week for food, fun and friends.