August 2010

Day 1: Round 4

Well, I’ve had a crappy couple of weeks. Chemo is nasty stuff and the inevitable list of nagging side effects (unshakable fatigue, fog, hives, etc…) are getting me down. My body is rebelling and my spirits are flagging. The good news is that today is my last chemo round!!! Mary and I are headed to Indy shortly. Keep your fingers crossed that all goes well and I’m able to cross another treatment milestone off my list.

Day 8: Round 3

Wow. I’m feeling SO MUCH better than I’d anticipated. Thank you for your emails, positive thoughts, and mashed potatoes! Chemo makes you weepy, reflective, and uber-cheesy. On that note, an article I stumbled upon last week articulated my feelings about being on the receiving end of so much love. Here’s the snippit that grabbed me:

Our society provides no curriculum or schooling on how to notice love or recognize the many people who love us. Most of  us haven’t been taught that to receive love deeply and transmit it wholeheartedly is a real human possibility, that it can be learned, and that to do so is the key to our deepest well-being. As adults, we need to become newly aware of the love that has infused our lives all along.

From “Love is All Around” by John Makransky, published in Tricycle

But how does one learn to give and receive love? I will NEVER EVER say cancer is a gift. (As one wry friend put it, “if cancer is a gift, you’re not invited to my birthday party.”) But I am open to recognizing how it’s changed me. And, without a doubt, the most profound shift I’ve experienced is my ability to see the love that has infused my life all along.

Day 1: Round 3

There is nothing like a celebration to lift one’s spirits. Yesterday was Mary’s birthday and we scheduled a few low-key activities, which culminated in a very small party. (Thanks B+M!) I love a birthday and hers distracted me from my pending gloom and doom. But this morning, I’m afraid there’s no more putting it off. I got up early, swallowed my steroids, packed the cooler, and overfed the pets. Chemo #3 is a tough sell. It’s not the first. It’s not the last. It’s not the half-way mark. It’s just chemo #3. The only upside is that it gets me one step closer to chemo #4—the end.