Last Trip to Baker 5

What a pleasure and honor it is to introduce this book. Diane Jepsen undertook this project during the early phase of her convalescence at a time when she could scarcely sign her name. This account of her fast-forward recovery speaks for itself. Her honesty and tenacity inspire all of us: fellow cancer victims, ordinary people, and those caregivers who have devoted their lives to helping those like her.

A number of things stand out in this work, first and foremost is the unquenchable spirit of the author herself. Undaunted by an illness that felled her in the prime of her life, she always kept her priorities straight. First was her own health and self-knowledge. She went to bed at night with weights on her bed, so she could awaken to her exhausting exercise program each morning. “Whatever happens, you’ll be able to handle it because you are a strong woman,” said her 87-year-old roommate during her first hospitalization. Truer words were never spoken. The inner light and discipline that distinguish Diane remained even in moments of despair. Where many might lapse into sorrowful self-absorption, she never lost sight of her parenting responsibility. Even when she could only crawl, she reminded her two sons to pick up their socks. Even when she had a needle taped to her arm vein, she visited a dying friend.

The story of a woman whose illness made her feel and act like a baby all over again is a reminder to the rest of us that our lives and livelihoods hang by a slender thread. Often when we meet adversity, we conclude that the thread is severed and cannot be reunited. But Diane, like an ingenious spider, re-spun the thread of her vitality and reconnected to her family and friends. “I am going to make it through this. I have a lot more living to do,” she told us—and so she has.

Her journal is simply stated. The only Boswell we meet here is her faithful dog. The only cancer ward is Baker 5, and Diane has eyes only for the kindness of the people she meets there. But, the power in this document is not merely literary; it is the ongoing human struggle to survive and live meaningfully. From the horror of being trapped in a carwash, to the warmth of her first dance, from the time she donned her panties standing up, to her first haircut after the ordeal, the reader is alongside of her cheering her on. Diane complains that her handwriting is blurry, but the incandescent spirit behind her words shines through, just as brightly as the spotlight she once danced in.

To her physician, Diane’s journey from helplessness to control comes as no surprise. She has always had the gift of lighting candles—not cursing the darkness. To me, the delight is her willingness to share her extraordinary experience, so private, and yet so universal, with the world. Diane, as she says herself, is “a good teacher…sensitive to others and aware of their needs.” She has touched us all with what she quaintly terms a “phantom hand.” Let us respond in kind.