After several posts on gardening science, it’s as good a time as any for some background on myself and how I came to starting this blog.
From 2016-2019, I lived in the San Francisco Bay Area. I worked as a copywriter and was experimenting in landscape design/installation with another designer who specializes in native California plants. (If you’re in the Bay Area and need a garden upgrade, I highly recommend checking out his website at evancooperdesign.com.) I’ve been an avid gardener my whole life, but Evan introduced me to the “meadow garden” style. He also gave me some useful principles in hardscaping and a deeper appreciation for grasses and plants native to the American West.
My background is in journalism, but I really enjoyed working with Evan. Beyond our easy working relationship, I loved working with my hands rather than computer screen. At the same time we were contributing to wildlife habitats and eco-friendly landscapes in an urban area. I was considering getting more involved in landscape work and education about horticulture.
That changed in May 2019. I broke my leg in a scooter accident, scrambling all those considerations. The injury was on the serious side—tibial plateau fractures usually cause major ligament and cartilage damage which in turn causes loss of mobility and triggers arthritis. More immediately, after a tibial plateau fracture, you probably won’t be walking for 3 months. I moved in with my parents in Westminster, Colorado to recover and regain the ability to walk, start rehab and embark on the long process of regaining the muscle strength and balance necessary to do rigorous physical work.
Just after I started walking again, an even bigger crisis struck my family. My mom was unexpectedly diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer. My 61-year old mom had been a health nut her whole life, and the diagnosis was a shock, (although it’s no surprise to science that cancer often strikes at random).
Pancreatic adenocarcenoma usually brings an abysmal prognosis; fewer than 1 in 5 patients survive the first year and and only 3 percent of stage IV are alive in year 5. The only hope was in clinical trials, and we asked several oncologists for recommendations. At the University of Colorado Health Sciences Center, doctors found an experimental immunotherapy drug that looked promising. The logic behind the drug’s mechanism of action made sense to me, and as a participant of the trial my mom would continue to receive the standard chemotherapy alongside the experimental treatment. (For anyone struggling with a serious illness for which there are few or no adequate treatment options, I definitely suggest seeking out clinical studies. They offer not only the opportunity to try cutting-edge treatment, but also contribute to the body of knowledge that will help other people).
Early results were promising—after 6 weeks on the trial my mom’s tumors shrank significantly and many disappeared in imaging. We currently have no way of knowing if my mom’s progress is thanks to the experimental drug, an uncommonly strong response to the standard chemo, or some combination of both. At the very least, I can say that after 9 months on treatment my mom’s cancer is stable and smaller than it was when she was diagnosed. It may not be a “cure,” but we definitely expect my mom to outlive the typical survival time for pancreatic cancer.
At the same time, my mom is still immunocompromised and at high risk of serious illness during COVID-19. I’ve decided to stay home and social distance strictly to keep her safe and help look after her, and I’ve used the time to pick up a few part-time landscaping clients for income (so I can work outside and away from infectious people), and meanwhile do a full redesign of the my parents’ yard, including new trees, a woodland garden, vegetable boxes, a meadow garden, a desert garden, a native plant area, a cottage garden and a pond expansion to built a large aquatic garden and wetland area. That also gave me the time to start this blog!
So without further adeiu, here’s a video of what I’ve been building this summer.