The Sky Is Falling
The sky is falling! If you read the news you might think so and I may have to agree with you. At least it feels that way.
3.22.2020
The sky is falling! If you read the news you might think so and I may have to agree with you. At least it feels that way.
I find myself in a countdown of sorts. As I write, I’m at the 40 hours mark. 40 hours until my sky falls. 40 hours until the unthinkable happens to my body, my every cell, my heart.
I dance between joy and despair. Joy and happy anticipation are real. I am excited and happy for the chemotherapy to come. I humble myself and admit I need it. I am ready. I accept the benefits and ask the rest to pass by quickly, without harm. Still, I am human. I have done this before. I know too well what may come. Dread and despair sometimes reach for me. I don’t hold hands with them but they are in the room. They get close. I honor them and let them go.
Truth saves me, I guess. I know truth in its many forms. I know that I get to decide how I view everything around and inside me. I get to decide my focus and my beliefs. So, I look to the Light. I breathe deeply. I trust. I try to forget the hours and live. Maybe the sky won’t fall after all.
Ready
We had a beautiful day. We spent much of it just being around home together. You might think homeschool families do that all the time but no, not exactly. We still have to practice being near one another and relaxed but not necessarily entertaining one another. So, we did that. It went pretty well.
3.21.2020
We had a beautiful day. We spent much of it just being around home together. You might think homeschool families do that all the time but no, not exactly. We still have to practice being near one another and relaxed but not necessarily entertaining one another. So, we did that. It went pretty well.
I had a big week. We decided that I will undergo chemotherapy starting Tuesday, March 24. I had a PET/CT scan so we could get a baseline going forward - i.e. how terrible of a situation is my body in? I had acupuncture to start preparing in advance of chemo. Friday I had surgery to put in a port. I had one nine years ago. I call it my button to the kids. It makes it so they can more easily poke me over and over again without the trouble of trying to access my poor, scarred, worn out and sad veins. After surgery, I baked scones for the kids (and myself). I feel that these large milestones (surgery) leave me deserving of a little treat and a whole wheat scone counts. Then, Healing Touch. I’m feeling pretty good after surgery and looking forward to next week happily. I am ready.
Dreams Come True
We decided today that I will begin chemotherapy next week. At this time of closures and social distancing we are preparing to hit my cancer and my immune system hard. Scary times.
3.16.20
We decided today that I will begin chemotherapy next week. At this time of closures and social distancing we are preparing to hit my cancer and my immune system hard. Scary times.
Still, in the midst of all this uncertainty and fear my dreams are coming true. I've been struggling with the reality of my dream garden. Just last summer I received it quite unexpectedly. The huge Ash tree in our backyard was condemned and came down. Suddenly, there was sun in abundance but I could not maximize its benefit because of cancer. I'm faced with the same gardening reality for this summer. But all this isolation, this COVID-19 has created something I've always dreamed of. It started today. It is here. It is now. It is peaceful and beautiful and wonderful. We are all here at home together. Paul is working at his newly built desk in the front porch office. Ben, Gilbert, Jackson and I are gathered around the dining room table. Each child is doing his own work peacefully with me on hand to assist and encourage. Honestly, our life has never been so peaceful as it is this morning. Lessons have never gone so well. We are grounded and nurturing one another. We'll have lunch with Paul. We hug, we smile. There are no commute times. This is bliss. I'm living my dream.