Do Not Fear
“I don’t think you needed any chemotherapy at all, to be honest.”
He tells me this as we are camped out in my neighborhood’s newest restaurant, sharing spanakopita that does not fall within any part of my restricted diet but which is so incredibly delicious that he insists I try it. It is worth every risk that comes with putting it into my mouth.
“You don’t think I needed any at all?” I question as I tuck my feet up beneath me and reach for my lemon water. “Any?”
Its been a little while, and there are lots of reasons for that. I've been juggling being back at work more with an unexpected preliminary read of my post-chemo CT scan. I will get into that more as I know more, but for now I'll tell you that Dr. McGuire has labeled my disease as "stable" as there appear to be no changes from my mid-point CT and this most recent one.
The State of Affairs v.7.
I spent my morning today down by the river, just like I did one year ago. The Dragon Boat races are back in RVA and one of the organizations I love had boats out on the water. Last year, I rowed hard in three races and loved every second of it.
The State of Affairs v.6.
We will start with the obvious I guess.
Phase one of chemotherapy is done.
I have meant to write, tried to write, so many times in the last week. But I can't for the life of me figure out how to put words to this space.
Camino de Santiago
Well, here we are. Just 5 hours away from the last dose of round five.
Which means that there is just one round of this bad chemotherapy left. And right now, I'm willing to say that calling it "bad chemo" is the greatest understatement I have ever made.
There are thirty-three days left until my last dose of chemo.
Thats actually a fact. I learned from a dear one this week that the drug I will get during the "maintenance chemo" year isn't actually a chemotherapy drug at all.
The State of Affairs v.5.
When the lights went out in Richmond last week, I wasn't entirely surprised. I've heard God for awhile, telling me it was time to turn down the noise. Time to sit quietly again.
Its been awhile.
If you're in RVA or love someone who is, you probably know the reason already - on day 3 of round 4, just about an hour after I returned home from my infusion, a huge summer storm rocked our little city. My neighborhood bore the brunt of it, and Hope and I were without power from around 8pm on Thursday until around the same time on Monday.
Waiting On Morning
"What keeps you motivated?" she asked me as we sat tucked into a corner of a spot that still holds too many memories of earlier days for me to feel entirely comfortable there.
"What do you mean?" - the only response I can come up with. I still don't quite grasp this line of questioning.
I don't have any memories of being afraid of the dark as a child. That could be because I wasn't, or simply because I have very few childhood memories at all - those years all locked away for a reason yet to be discovered.