In two days I turn 59, which is older than many of my family members were able to make, but I’m definitely feeling like a celebration! I’ve ordered a cake from Ben & Jerry’s, I intend to wear a party hat to my chemo / infusion / lab draws on Thursday, and I also intend to grab onto every single birthday I’m fortunate enough to have from this point onward.
But when I view the future through the reality of TWO cancers, I see a different picture. It’s more out of focus and landmarks are difficult to see. I can see death around the edges, where before it was so far ahead of me that it didn’t seem real.
I know I’m improving every day, I can feel it – I can SEE it in the amount I’m able to do! But, as is usual for me, it’s not fast enough. Which is silly, because my recovery is exactly at the right speed for me. I need to just relax and enjoy the pace my body’s set for itself.
None of us will beat death, it will get us in the end. I’ve become much more at peace with that truth over the last few years. I’ve lost so many folks who are close to me, maybe that’s why I have such a strong desire to see a grandchild. Or maybe it’s just that I love babies.
While I was going through treatment for Lymphoma I made the decision that once I was in remission I would get a tattoo. The image I wanted was a Charles Schulz character named ‘Number Three’ who dances onstage in the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. She’s one of a pair of twins (her sister is named,…
The quarantine has been easier for me than most folks I know. I can’t really get out and do much, I’m relegated to my bed, or my recliner, for all of the time each day that I’m not moving from room to room. With so many folks in a similar situation (stuck at home) I feel less alone in my recovery, it’s as if the whole world is recovering with me.
And there it is. The hardest thing in the world to deal with, the thing that makes the cancer feel like a personal attack at times, instead of just an unfortunate roll of the dice. Missing Gerry is the hardest thing I do, I know it’s so hard for the kids and for his family back in NY, too. The fact that I had 12 years to contemplate and prepare for his leaving us does make it a bit easier, it really does. But at times the pain of knowing I’ll never hug that dear man again is almost overwhelming.
The difference in how I’m doing right now is nothing short of a minor medical miracle. Or maybe the miracle is my kid’s love, and all the good food and REAL rest that I’ve been getting at home! Yesterday my doctor was pretty much astounded at how much better my hemoglobin and platelets are doing. …
But I have a big decision to make. Should I get a Bone Marrow Transplant (BMT). Gerry had one in 2007, and they’re NOT FUN. It would mean going back into the hospital for at least 30 days, and right now the best doner that we’ve found so far is Max! There are millions of doners in the registry, though, so they’re searching to see if there might be a better match.
Today’s experiment is a roast beef sandwich that Andy’s bringing. I’m hoping the smell is not too strong, and that I can get a good bit of the sandwich down!