A busy day at Blogdom. I wanted to honor my sister before I got into the pragmatics of my health and treatment. Frankly she's much more interesting to write about and to know, but inquiring minds want to know more a well. Also, I've had some technical issues and this posting got delayed by more than a few days. But the success of my first post in this second phase signals a new era in my technical prowess.
So, what's up with my disease?
First off it returned faster than the Drs. expected, about 2-weeks. That signaled to the oncology team that they should abandon the middle course of therapy (methotrexate) and move to the large bore chemo I'm doing now. Originally, for this surprise round, I was to be in the hospital for as much as 60 days running, but that also changed late last week and I'm doing the balance of this segment as an out-patient (out Saturday) until the middle of November when this course is finished. At that point, when I'm determined to be in remission, they'll move directly to a bone marrow transplant while my blood and system are clean- the big show! That's the segment that will spell out how we've handled this little understood and illusive form of cancer. Cancer is a fluid disease and even the ones that are well understood take twists and turns that Drs. haven't seen, a testament I'm sure to to our uniqueness as individuals- mostly alike, but so different in crucial ways.
For this segment I've done well and feel very good, again my tolerance for the treatment is kind of at odds with the severity of what I have. So far, no bad nights, no nausea and the appetite and food eye of a teenager. Since I still have an immune system, I'm hitting the vending machine for all manor of junk food late at night- hey, I've got cancer- eat up.
I was out for 2 weeks and 2 days. MJ and I had our kids here for a long weekend at the end of the first week out of the hospital, her two and my two. What more can be said, we ate, drank and celebrated the release, we sat on the deck, we enjoyed the weather and the sunlight, we connected, we missed connections, we stumbled, we flew, we held hugs too long and some times eye contact was too short, we celebrated the potential of life and thought about the unspoken potential for the other.
That unspoken other is the elephant in the room, this idea of living and dying being so immediate. No matter what, and as it ought to, it colors and shapes all your actions. I Leap some days on the things I can control, remaking files so everything can be clearly understood, double checking insurance things, checking balances and looking at the 401-K to determine if I'm managing it right- you get stuck in a place of "is there enough" is it a 5-year plan or a 20- year plan? What happens first, extravagant dreams or practical planning? A distraction for sure, all this remaking and looking into, a sure sign that I'm running straight into the arms of fear and trying to do something with it that is loving.
But that's this disease, huge lessons every day, challenging your character, your beliefs, your will, your sense of self, your optimism, your legacy. and as a result the blessing; every day you get to think about who you are and why you're here.
Unless, of course your remaking your files.
More to come,