Into The Wilderness
1.23.2021
I like to think of the time when the weather was warm. Our days were spent outside and everything was golden - at least that’s how I remember it. It was July or August. One evening, I explained my heart situation to the kids at dinner. I told them how fluid was built up in the sac around my heart. It meant we couldn’t make a triumphant post-chemo trip into the Boundary Waters. The fluid had to go before we could go.
Even though the cancer seems to be under control, the fluid around my heart has increased to a breaking point. It’s time to drain it. It feels like defeat but I know that it isn't. If I'm completely honest, I'm a little relieved. It feels kind of good. And strange. This is definitely not what I wanted. I wanted my body to do it alone. I wanted to move on. No more IVs, no more needles. No more big emotions because I have been away at the hospital. Again. I hoped for something a little cleaner, more efficient, less….hospital.
Anyway, it is scheduled for Tuesday. I cannot focus on what I wanted, only on what is. This is the right thing. This is happening. I am grateful that it can be done. Grateful for feeling relieved. Grateful for kind, compassionate doctors who are looking out for my highest good. Grateful for knowing this is a step forward. Grateful we can dream about a trip into the wilderness again.