Howdy.
I write from my home today. Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend. From my window I see a leaf-covered deck, a flock of wild turkeys (23 of them!) and the remnants of fall in my yard. This week was my next to the last treatment, which means that I have slept an enormous amount of time but am finally alert and upright and chirpy and REALLY grateful that I only have one more big treatment to go.
I traveled to Chapel Hill last week for a mid-course evaluation. The fine news is that there was nothing new to be seen. In this land of treatments, no news is really good news. Some folks continue to get worse during their treatments. I, I am happy to find, did not. All of the spots are not gone, but they are not bigger and they might be benign at this point. But not bigger is a fine report. Marginally smaller is good too - and that is true of mine. Hooray for small and good news.
So now, as I near the end of this treatment, I drift to what is next. I do have work on my book to do. At the beginning of December I will get the "first pages" which is the typeset version. That'll be fun to see and will also entail a close review on my part to catch anything I might have written incorrectly. I'm nearly feeling good enough to go blow glass. And I have some work projects to do too.
But there is perhaps a bigger picture that is not currently clear to me. The curiosity is, what does one do after going through nearly two years of really difficult treatments? Do I go visit markets around the world? Do I travel to Venice and watch the masters blow glass? Do I tuck myself back behind my desk and return to my previous daily routine? It's hard to say. And at the moment it is too soon to make any declarations. I still have to consult with a couple of big wheel doctors to figure out what the next steps are. And I have to cleanse my poor, battered body of the barrage of chemicals it has withstood in these past months. I have to find my physical equilibrium again, remember that I can regain the stamina I had and can go, non-stop, for a whole day. Right now that is not on my can do right now list, but it is something I want again.
At Thanksgiving it is inevitable that thoughts turn to thanks. As I spent my day with my tiny circle, I felt so full of thanks for them. They've come to my treatments with me, made me hot chocolate, put cream on my body, run a bath for me, heated up the hot water bottle, watched stupid tv, filled the woodbox, bought me milk, called me and written to me. And so much more.
My nurses and doctors have been amazing too. Caring and loving and attentive in a very straightforward way. I don't know how they manage to live their lives caring for so many sick people and staying so positive. I can say with certainty that their attitudes boost me way up and hold me up when I don't think I can emerge from the dark.
The Livestrong community has meant so much to me too, counseling me and supporting me and offering encouragement to a person many of them have never even met. I am grateful to have been led to them and am looking forward to more involvement with them - including riding across Iowa next summer!!! (We're also going to do a local ride in May - the JoyRide for Livestrong at the YMCA. Stay tuned for that!)
The other day, at Jubilee, my spiritual home, Howard announced that nothing new had shown up on my MRI. The gathered folks leapt up and clapped and I felt so blessed to have so many friends and such a strong, believing community. It warmed me deeply.
I hope you have had a nice weekend too and that your life is as full of blessings as mine is. And just so you know, I'll be around a bit more pretty soon. December 11th is the last day of my treatments. It'll take me some time to be fully back on my feet, but the end of treatment is a big day in any one's life. And for that, I am so very, very thankful.
I'll be in touch next week.
