30 days. It is amazing how so much yet so little can happen in 30 days. I guess it is all in how you look at it.
These 30 days have taught me that I must learn patience or else I suffer. These 30 days have taught me that I must learn to live in the moment and not worry for the future or else I suffer. These 30 days have taught me that I need to give up control over my recovery or else I suffer. These 30 days have taught me that I can cry and get angry and depressed and it is okay, and it is only when I resist, I suffer.
These 30 days have also taught me that I can find joy that transcends the physical body if I just listen. These 30 days have taught me that I am strong despite my second guessing. These 30 days have taught me abundant and unconditional love. These 30 days have taught me that my soul is fueled by mother nature and by the connections I have with those around me. These 30 days have taught me joy in simple things, which brings intense gratitude.
These 30 days have taught me that life is hard, but there is always someone else it is harder for, so count my blessings. These 30 days have also taught me that despite everything I and my family have had to go through I sometimes feel like the luckiest person alive.
.....and then, sometimes within the blink of an eye, I find myself cycling back to having to learn those first lesson's again.....
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I know I've been silent here. I've also been silent on e-mail's and I apologize.
Like I said in my first sentence, seems like so much, yet so little has happened this past month. On the so much end of things, I am doing so well at the bone marrow clinic, that I get my catheter taken out on Thursday (the three-pronged port they surgically put in my chest that has kept me from having a proper bath in 2 months...). Next Wednesday, the 13th I have my discharge appointment from the bone marrow clinic and will go back to being followed by my regular oncologist!! Which means I can drive again (even though I can't go anywhere in public), and I won't have to be babysat 24/7!! I am being discharged 10 days earlier than expected, so we are thrilled about this. I am still not allowed to be in public places until 100 days post transplant (June). uugh...
Because of my progress, I haven't had to go into the clinic the past two weekends so we headed up to the mountains to get healing of the best kind there. Relatives visited both weekends and I felt the most alive I've felt in two months while there. I hiked the mountains, and even though it tired me out, I did it and it gave me hope for my body.
Other victories...I am eating better now, even though my taste buds are still making most things taste either bland, or a hint of the food flavor laced with vinegar, or absolutely disgusting. I am taking my supplements which I am hoping will help in the recovery process.
I am napping less (really not at all), and generally feel my energy level slowly inching back. I am walking every day. Nausea is improving, yet still ever present. I feel like once I can get this under wraps my motivation for doing anything will get better. I never realized how debilitating nausea was.
Now for the slow part of this past 30 days. Well, it really can all be summed up into one thought...I am ready to be healed. I am ready to rejoin the world, feel healthy, get on with my life. I am ready to be scanned again and hear the doctor say you are in remission. And the fact is, I won't get my wish right away. I have to wait. I have to go through these next months in seclusion and heal. It takes time. It takes time. It takes time. But I am hoping that with each minute I'll get a little better so that soon my brain will ask me for books to read, and my soul will crave meditation and qi gong and I will remember what it feels like to tap into the energy of the heartbeat of the universe, and my creativity will blossom and I will do all these things I have in my head to do that are merely being held captive by my fatigue, poor attention and laziness. I welcome dreams of healing retreats and helping others. The chemo crystals just need to cracked and be set free. The good news is, there is movement, and that is the best I can hope for right now, right?
Okay, and so as long as I am sharing all this....I've also come to realize that I am living in a totally selfish world right now. Because of my seclusion and the intensity of my treatment and my caregiving, everything revolves around me, and with that realization I almost got sick to my stomach. All of our conversations surround how I feel, what is next, what are my counts, who will watch me, what do I need, etc. etc. etc....Even this blog perpetuates it. I am stuck in an Eve world and am too fatigued to get out of my head and out into the world (even from seclusion). That was a big awakening and I am hoping these coming weeks will give me strength and mental focus to shift the course of this ship. I think that is why I have enjoyed the small amount of visitors I have had, and the weekends with relatives at the cabin. I get to get out of my world.
Well, that's what I have for you today. Happy day 30! I am happy to be alive. And I have a lot of life left in this ole gal. It is a beautiful spring day today, and our neighborhood is bursting with color. All the windows are open and I am sitting here with my sweetie. This moment is a good one. Here's hoping you all a good moment...this one, and the next, and the next...
