Yesterday was spent laughing with Ravi, which encouraged my enjoyment of another no worse day as I’m half way through ‘week three’ of my new chemo protocol.
After Steven asked questions, concerning my upcoming surgeries, he could not find words to express the depths of his emotion, so he simply took hold of and held onto my hand, freeing our love for each other to fill the silence as though clarity was speaking aloud. Barry and David call, every night. Marie texts funny quips to which my corny sense of humor responds. Daily texts, sent by my sister and a beloved high school friend, as well as texts, emails, cards and phone calls from all over the country buoy my spirit while Angie’s energy bounds through my front door, almost every day, and in addition to meals ringing our doorbell, the depths of Will’s protective devotion continues to take my breath away.
As to being on the receiving end of love flowing freely, I was shocked upon receiving a dozen roses from my eye doctor, last week, amid streams of calls, cards, gifts, emails and texts flowing toward me from sea to shining sea (whoops—sorry if I’m being redundant), my heartfelt reactions can’t help but smile while tears fill my eyes; however, rather than a woman divided, my emotions blend, inspiring my spirit to accept my fate, whatever it may be, with a greater sense of grace than frustration.
The depth of my sister’s love for me and mine for her maintains its heartfelt connection several times daily, and these past several days have offered me a ‘no worse week’. So when considering half full cups, mine runneth over, because, with one fast glance at today’s post, we clearly see why, from my point of view, I am an exceedingly fortunate person
My next infusion of chemo is this coming Wed, so if history repeats itself then I can expect to experience several days of exceptional fatigue followed by my being caught up within a dark spell of physical misery during week two, when I’ll feel like Rocky in the ring, fighting the good fight against great odds. And now on to more good news ...
David/Mickey plans to fly in, this Saturday, when his sense of humor will resume my ‘training’ concerning walking with head held high and keeping my dukes up, and in addition to enjoying his company, I love the fact that David picks up Ravi from school, because watching their imaginative antics is the best of all heartwarming medicines when physical misery attempts to knock my spirit out cold. And though physical misery has come close to knocking me out, so far, my spirit’s not gone down for the count.
For clarity sake, here is the three week pattern, which has been shaping up, concerning my highly personal (natural) reactions to chemo: First week after infusion of chemo, I feel so seriously energy deprived as to walk with a walker. (Day after chemo infusion, I’m injected with a substance that stimulates bone marrow to produce white blood cells during week three). Second week, blood tests show white blood cells and platelets plummeting while physical misery rises exponentially. Third week, as blood cells start to rise, my energy level remains light headed though on the upside, I, feeling my protective need to hibernate lessening, am more inclined to embrace my natural social life until the week passes, and I find myself receiving the next ticket to ride the chemo roller coaster, all over again—no chance to say ‘no more chemo’ to my team of medical specialists when we travel to Houston at the end of this month where my oncologist at MD Anderson will study my most recent cardiac 3D MRI after which he’ll say,yea, time to schedule surgery—or nay, a fourth round of chemo is necessary ...
As being smack dab in the middle of week three sees me truly appreciating every day that misery and hibernation stay away from my sunny smile, my family and friends join me in sighing with relief as, together, we take each next step forward into the great unknown ...
Last night, Will and I ventured out to dinner (after two weeks of hibernation) at one of our favorite comfort havens with Angie, Mark and and another dear couple, and it felt really good to brighten my lips and cheeks while wrapping my head in a colorful turban (of which I now own several ala Amazon though I've sent back more than I’ve kept), and while peals of laughter rang aloud round our table in an old world Italian eatery, I imagined, once again, how good it must have felt to have spent time at TV’s factionalized Cheers, where, having been so warmly welcomed along with my friends, I was able to set thoughts of serious illness aside until the evening’s end when my friends’ heartfelt hugs circled round to include the establishment’s owner, manager and long time wait staff until each one turned toward me only to find that though my smile was sincere, my new found, natural inclination to maintain my physical distance in attempt to insure my physical safety, gently backed away from every open armed hug aimed directly at me.
Today, we said nay to a huge annual Super Bowl party (at the home of the first couple whom we ever met in Phoenix) in favor of watching the game at our house with Angie and Mark, who are bringing wine, cheese, crackers to munch on. We plan to enjoy dinner on Monday with our super bowl hosts. So, though I’m maintaining quiet days, we’re fitting in as many social evenings as my present level of energy allows before my next chemo infusion on Wed. drains my body of energy, yet again.
As for now, I, feeling showered with love, know myself blessed, plain and simple ...
And as always, I’m sending you tons of love!
Annie
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