Sitting at home, alone, on a Sunday morning listening to the Grateful Dead. Outside it's sunny and cold. Other than 10 pushups and a walk around town yesterday, I've been very good at 'catching up on my rest' recently. I'm looking forward to seeing Dr. Herst, for the first time since January, tomorrow. Also looking forward to attempting another tour at work, starting Tuesday. Things have been uneventful since I was hospitalized. Been eating well, sleeping well (with some pharmaceutical help).
Here's a photo of Anna and Pam. Pam visited yesterday. Her and Anna took over the living room to make velvety dresses. Pam is wearing that heart around her neck until I'm well.
When do I get well? I'm much better now than I was a few months ago. I don't think I have cancer anymore. Think of it like a mess on the floor. The first few rounds of chemotherapy has swept up the mess on the floor and tossed it in the dustbin These last few rounds involve scrubbing the clean floor with a toothbrush just to make sure it's all gone.
But still, cancer is like a marathon (I've noticed that I spout fewer cliches as my cancer journey progresses, but it hasn't stopped altogether). A marathon with no end, or at least they don't tell you where the end is. At the end of chemo they'll say I'm in remission. I'll be in remission for maybe five years, then I'll be.... what? cured? a survivor? a-ok? So I'm running my chemo marathon right now, weary and ready for the finish line. But I'm aware that as soon as I cross the finish line I will face the five year remission ultramarathon. I suppose when the ultramarathon finishes I'll be walking the endless path of the survivor. Whatever. I'm just enjoying the journey I'm on.