February 14 (happy Valentine's Day):  Phone call from doctor "Time to see specialist for exploratory"
March 7 : Pre-op appointment
March 22: first surgery
March 29: My world shifted; Diagnosis Day
April 18: second surgery
Month of May: countless appointments with oncology radiologist, radiology technicians, oncologists,     
                          phlebotomists, etc.
June 1st: 3rd surgery (port insertion) 
June 11: Weekly chemo for 5 weeks begins
                Weekly blood draws begins
               Daily radiation for five weeks begins (Monday - Friday)
July 23 - August 23rd: Recovery month attempting to prepare for more chemo therapy
August 23: First of four chemo doses
September 13: Second of four chemo doses
October 4: tentative third of four chemo doses
October 28: tentative final chemo dose
Month of November: await body scan on November 25 (tentative)  to determine how efficacious the eight months of treatment has been (or not) 
​
Once again, I am reduced to a single prayer: Lord have mercy.
 
​

True confessions. I have had a low tolerance level for schmaltz. In the past, it has taken very little sentimentality for me to label something as schmaltzy and either dismiss it or even upon occasion have such an aversion to it that I would feel like yelling, " Just shut up!" at the song or movie or feel-good poster touting messages of maudlin, mushy encouragement i.e. Have a nice day! or Hang in there! or Without the rain, there would be no rainbow. 

Yesterday afternoon while organizing a cupboard (therapy) i was listening to a Spotify-created "made for you" playlist (not one I had personally made).  Imagine my confusion when I heard what is perhaps the slushiest song of all time begin playing! Chosen for me? I think not!. But being too pre-occupied to hit the skip button, I let it roll on.  

When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of a storm
There's a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind.
Walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone!
You'll never walk alone.
Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone!
You'll never walk alone.

What the heck? What was happening? Instead of gagging or rolling my eyes, I started to cry. 

​Cancer does weird things to one.

​

Sometimes it is the intensity of the struggle; other times it is the length of the struggle.
​ Just. Want. To. Feel. Well. Again. 
​Lord have mercy.

How hard it is to even begin to list the many kindnesses and the generosity of so many who are helping me on my way through my "fight against cancer" (so aptly described I now realize.) Each offering of love is precious in its own way: unexpected arrival of flowers from someone's garden, flowers brought to the door by a florist sent by friends from afar, meals provided, cards in the mail, and texts and emails from friends who understand if I am unable to answer promptly (with no expectation that I do so at all.) Visitors, drivers, those who sit with me during chemo and keep me company, all making my way smoother and more than bearable. 

There was one gift this week that brought me up short; I was unprepared for the effect it had on me. A dear friend has been coming in to help with some of the household chores I am unable to keep up on (that list is also very long.) While she was still working I had to leave for an appointment. Upon my return I marveled at how clean my floors were and smiled at my kitchen sink no longer piled high with dirty dishes. But it was when I walked into my bedroom to rest that I was brought to tears. It was not only that I had clean, fresh linens on my bed, it was the beauty of a bed with pillows fluffed, bedspread pulled taut and smoothed, corners arranged, and attention to detail that spoke of care taken, thought and love brought to the basic task of making a bed. It had been done perhaps even prayerfully, and most certainly with a grace-filled heart that found a way to make a mundane task into a labor of love that not only blessed my body as I lay down to nap, but also renewed my heart. Thank you, dear one. And thank you to all who are praying and sharing your gifts and kindness. I am blessed.