Day Nine -- Great Grandma Annie

I don't think I could've crammed any more living into this day.  After teaching three classes, holding office hours, and spending five hours w/ my younger daughter and other friends at a volleyball tournament, I've decided I didn't waste any minute of this day.  In my Mourning Glories blog, I think I mentioned that my great grandmother, Annie, kept a journal from the late 1880's to the 1930's.  Most of her entries involved her daily activities, much like this blog is doing, as she dealt w/ Crohn's Disease.  Well, at that time they called it tuberculosis of the bowels, b/c Dr. Crohn hadn't put his name to it yet.  Despite usually feeling quite tired, she still managed to bake and sew and cook and clean and tend a garden.  When she says things like, "I didn't accomplish much today," but then goes on to list the four pies and three loaves of bread she baked, and the clothes she ironed.  But every once-in-awhile she tells stories of how the doctor removed her older daughter's tonsils while the little girl sat on her lap at the kitchen table, and how the neighbor lady committed suicide leaving a husband a several small children.  I think Mom gathered strength from her grandmother's journals, especially since she never got a chance to know her.  I hope that if God feels it's necessary to call me home before I get to meet my grandchildren that they'll come to know me and their great and great, great grandmothers better through my blogs. 

Day Eight -- Dad's Birthday

I ended my whirlwind weekend at my dad's to celebrate his 86th birthday.  I left early from my brother's house so I could go to church w/ Dad and make sure everyone knew it was his birthday, which meant informing the minister so he could announce it from the pulpit.  The birthday wishes he got from his fellow church members made his morning.  I'd like to think that my presence made it too, but I'm never sure w/ Dad.  But I know I'm just as guilty......we neglect the ones we love the most.  Well, I'm not sure it's neglect.  I think my family sometimes takes one another for granted.  We assume and expect one another to be there, and don't always enjoy and appreciate their presence.  At the age of 86, Dad is learning to see the presence of friends and family as the best present.  I'm trying to learn this lesson a little earlier since I may not see 86.

I'm feeling fine today.  The lymph node on the left side of my neck continues to shrink.  It was somewhat bothersome this morning, but right now I don't notice any discomfort.  The lymph nodes under my arms are causing a little discomfort w/ the one on my left being worse.  I had some slight lower back pain just as I was leaving Dad's this afternoon, but the three-hour drive home and the three Ibuprofen seemed to ease it.  It was the kind of pain that catches you off guard and drops you to your knees.  Not sure if this has anything to do w/ the Rituximab.  It could just be the three-inch-heeled boots I was wearing today.  My chiropractor would definitely say the latter.  Sitting on an ice-pack when I got home certainly helped.

Day Seven -- Third Infusion

I had my third infusion today.  They again suggested increasing the speed of delivery to 90 minutes, but I still wasn't comfortable w/ that rate.  It was probably the nurse telling me that a side effect of the Rituximab (Rituxin) is convulsions.  Yep, convulsions.  I do remember reading about that in the materials Dr. Inwards gave me a month ago, but I was trying not to focus on that.  Well, for fear of shaking uncontrollably, I asked if we could arrive at a happy medium.  So after two hours, I left the infusion therapy center tremor free. I have my last infusion next Saturday.  I think I'll feel more comfortable with a 90-minute infusion then.

I was more tired after this infusion and took a three-hour nap after returning to my brother's house.  The Benadryl they give me before the infusion always makes me tired, but this time it didn't really hit me until several hours later.  It could, however, be that this past week was especially busy, and my body just needed to recharge.  My lymph nodes seem to be in less of an uproar these days, but I had more night sweats last night than I've had before.  I'm going to all these as positive ways my body is expelling this illness. 

Day Six -- Footprints

(NOTE:  I'm writing this on the 17th due to traveling on the 16th, but I composed this entry while driving.)

When I was first given the diagnosis of Follicular Lymphoma, one of my first thoughts was to write letters to my daughters for them to open at the important times during their lives when I might not be there.  You know, times like their weddings, birth of their children, etc.  Letters that would offer them advice and encouragement as they face each new chapter in their lives and promise them that even when times are difficult, remember the significance of being alive to endure them.

In the ensuing months after my initial diagnosis, the need to leave this trail has subsided, however, I still think it's a good idea for anyone, whether they've been given a cancer diagnosis or not.  Writing down our impressions, hopes, and dreams for future generations leaves a footprint.  Right now in my time, we're consciously trying not to leave a carbon footprint.  I'm not sure which kind of footprint I'm leaving w/ these blog entries, but maybe I'll write some letters this winter.

Day Five--"I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends"

Went to a concert tonight w/ my friend Lora where we saw other friends. I've come to the conclusion that anything is tolerable and doable and workable when you've got friends.  Lora made the comment tonight that despite my illness, I'm much healthier and happier than I was last school year when going through my divorce.  I had friends help me through that too, but I felt in greater turmoil than I do now.   There's research that supports the importance of interpersonal relationships in combating and controlling cancer, and people who are socially isolated are more likely to suffer from heart problems.  All this gives credence to the song, "I get by w/ a little help from my friends."  For me to fight this cancer, I must remain health physically, emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, and socially.  That's quite a balancing act.......but what a ride.

Earlier today I decided it was time to reconnect w/ some other friends that I hadn't talked to in awhile.  My Aunt Jean told me that a few months before Uncle Jack died he called up some of his old buddies that he hadn't talked to in years.  She's convinced he knew he was dying even then even though others didn't suspect.  I know my death isn't imminent, and I don't think my illness is the motivator behind wanting to rekindle past friendships.  It's not like I'm tracking down every friend I've ever had and lost contact w/.  I'm not sure I'd have enough time to do that if I lived another 50 years.  But I am trying to gather as many friends around me as possible so I guess in a way I am "circling the wagons."  I just don't plan on this being my last stand.

Day Four -- Sitting to the Occasion

No day should be wasted regardless of whether you have a terminal disease or not.  I've always looked back at my days when I get to the end of them and ask, "What did I accomplish?"  Usually it's a lot, sometimes it's a little, and rarely it's nothing at all.  I wasn't brought-up to just sit, but it's ironic that I've created numerous sitting areas inside and outside of my home.  Inside my house I have two family rooms and a living room.  Outside my house I have a deck, a fire-pit area, benches in my rock garden and shade garden, and a canopied swing.  I've created all these places to sit and relax, yet I rarely do either.  Maybe I need to get to a point where my biggest accomplishment is learning how to just sit.

Day Three -- It's Melting

I keep hearing the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz saying, "I'm melting, I'm melting," but it's not her I envision but the tumors within my lymph nodes.  And as they're being eradicated, they're lashing-out for one final flare before they blaze out.  I don't expect them to go meekly or calmly, and that's okay.  I'm stronger than they are.  So melt, you bastards.  This body isn't big enough for all of us, and I was here first.