Paula W. Millet,  Author

I admit to watching those beautifully filmed wildlife videos on TV. I will never get to go on an exotic safari or ride a camel through the desert, so I am able to able to satisfy my sense of adventure from the comfort of my armchair. There is always at least one scene where a lion or tiger, looking for a meal, lowers its head, ready to charge at some poor animal who takes off like a rocket. I find myself cheering for the lesser creature, hoping that what it lacks in aggressio

On the last day of February, 2018, I finished 18 grueling chemotherapy treatments. Although bald and bloated, I was filled with hope that I would be “once and done.” I had logged many hours in the uncomfortable chairs at the infusion center, staring at the gong they had designated as “the exit bell.” I had seen Facebook pictures of other teal sisters who had completed treatment with fanfare and applause, a festive cake and congratulatory posters. I couldn’t wait to celebrate

Have you ever had an earworm? I'm sure that you have. It’s a creepy image for the relatively common experience of having a song stuck in your head. It happens to me quite often, and most recently I’ve been humming the opening for the TV show, “Friends.” Yes, I know, it is a strange choice, but I think there is some message in there for me especially since the line about being stuck in second gear keeps echoing in my brain. I learned how to drive on a 4 speed Volkswagen Beetle

A few months ago I impulsively bought a Costco-sized bag of caladiums. Although I would never consider myself a gardener, at one time I regularly planted wide swaths of them to complement the shrubbery and tucked a few among the flowers in pots on the back patio. Their colorful, variegated leaves always put on a showy performance, and to this day they are among my favorite summer plantings I had counted on feeling good enough to dig the many holes, perfectly placing them wher

I haven’t written a blog in a few months. Each time I tried, I lost my motivation, the wind knocked out of my sails faster than I could type a title. I blamed it on chemo brain, which is no joke. My thoughts are often a jumbled mess, which doesn’t translate to writing something profound or even understandable. And since I am mostly chronicling this cancer journey, quite frankly, the subject matter got tedious and repetitious. I figured if I was getting depressed reading it, s