Angels among us

Two really positive things happened this last week, and both on the same day.  I want to tell you about them. Like you are sitting on my deck out at the campground on a beautiful sunny day, and we are talking. All the while, the birds warble in the trees, and the trees are moving to one of those summer breezes that feels so warm and good. 

So last Friday morning I officially began radiation. It kicked into gear a week earlier than planned, beginning on June 23rd. Best of all, it finishes July 22nd, one day before my Block of the Month Quilt Show at the Aurora Sewing Center store in East Aurora on July 23rd. Yup! I just advertised our big block of the month quilt show on July 23rd. LOL Hope you will come!

Today is Monday and I just finished my second radiation session, commuting to Harlem Road from the Attica area where we are camping at Skyline Campground. Its a 45 minute drive from here - which is the pits with gas prices what they are - but I will not give up my summer. It's worth the investment. 

What is radiation like? Well, it's decently indecent, and after that drive, the session lasts 10 minutes. Quick. Easy. Over and done. Then I'm headed back home. Side effects, you ask? I feel a little weird off and on. That's all I can say. There's a 'tired' that comes and goes. 

While there, I lay under a humongous machine that carefully maneuvers itself into place. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't annoy my claustrophobia, and I barely hear the radiation happening. It's hard to tell when the machine is doing its thing. I am happy the whole process is as easy as it is.  

So now the second positive thing that happened on Friday was that I had an opportunity to meet an angel. That is absolutely correct. Last fall, one of my wonderful block of the month ladies introduced me to her best friend from high school, a friend who is also a cancer survivor.  And that best friend mentored me all winter and spring, giving me a listening ear when I needed it most, and supporting me with honest, straight information about the cancer experience. Her name is Myrna.

My Myrna angel is very special. She is so upbeat and nurturing. I have connected with her on some of my darkest days or on days when I needed to know my side effects were normal. She always bounced back to me like an upbeat cheerleader, reassuring me and turning on pure sunshine to guide my path. 

I learned at our in person lunch on Friday that her hug is as marvelous as she is. Her conversation is terrific, especially as she shares her enthusiasm for exploring her family tree on ancestry.com. We also shared how much we appreciate the word 'unremarkable' whenever our medical reports underscore that there is nothing more for concern.

My prayer for you as you possibly make a cancer journey is that God puts angels like Myrna in your life. These gifts from God ground us during the worst of times, helping us to find courage, strength, and peace. Even more, these angels hold our hand through their words and convince us that we are truly a cancer survivor.

With love for Myrna, I am signing off, The quilting cancer girl

Slow recovery

These past few weeks have been interesting. While my energy is returning, I realize how my body is working extremely hard to recover. I write this post so any of my cancer friends understand we do not become what we once were overnight. There are no magic buttons we can push that say, "return to normal." How I wish!

I am noticing gradual transformations. One is that my skin is smoothing out. It is not as dry and chapped as when chemicals were infiltrating my body. The red spots on my arms and legs are thankfully disappearing. They were scary, like I was being taken over by some invisible being. Now I love rubbing my hands together because they are so soft and smooth from the natural oils that are helping my health return.

My complexion has more color again. Friends are commenting on how I am not so white and translucent. It feels good to hear, "You have color in your cheeks again." Makes me smile. Warms my soul. I am again going to be the human I once was. 

Even though I continue to wear my cancer cap, my hair is getting fuzzy on my scalp. I laugh and tell folks that I am currently a cross between a baby and my 98 year old father with hair sticking up in every direction possible. I pet my head! The clinic tells me I won't really like my hair until November. I live in hope. Still, my eyebrows and eyelashes return as does hair on other body parts. Kind of like puberty all over again. Sorry...TMI!

While all this is happening, my insides are straightening themselves out. My kidneys and I handled an extremely uncomfortable UTI a few weeks ago. That levelled me (my first UTI ever) but was handled with the help of a friend, an excellent urgent care center in Batavia, and meds that worked wonders. 

Slowly, my gastrointestinal self is coming around. That process has been slower. There are still things I cannot eat without unpleasant consequences. I miss vegetables. Someday. Someday.

Meanwhile, I have had two appointments with the radiologist. Last time, they fitted me to what they have happily nicknamed a 'bubble wrap silhouette'. It is a form in which I will lay every time I get a radiation treatment. In conjunction with a variety of pre-placed 'tattoos' on my body, it means I am positioned the same way every time and that helps the radiation process. My radiation will happen every Monday through Friday during July at 8:10 a.m. 

Do I wonder about the radiation? You bet. I'm not so worried about side effects as I am about the long lasting affects the radiation will have. The doctor so easily recites his monologue about how the radiation process transpires and how it is the last step in my cancer process. But I wonder, what does it really do to my body? How will I be different afterwards and for years to come?

So, my cancer friends, know that life continues to move us forward. We do chemotherapy. We manage surgery. We struggle with the side effects. We gradually find ourselves coming around to a world with more energy and hair and appetite and returning body functions. We handle radiation. 

The best part is that with God as our guide, we are coming around, and hopefully, prayerfully, we look to the good years ahead, without cancer. We know we fought the good fight; and forever we hold close to us a continuing peace that carries us into whatever the future holds.

Signed, The quilting cancer girl in recovery and radiation

Summer friends

Reconnecting with summer friends is such a pleasant adventure. I miss my summer friends in the winter. You possibly know what I am talking about. Weird but there are certain people who I do not see as often in the winter. So summer is about appreciating those precious souls.

First of all, I've never been a person with a lot of close friends. My role model is to pursue family as my close friends because when life is filled with work, there is not time for close friendships. And besides, work friends are often work friends, not everyday close friends. Yup. That's the way I grew up, pretty much.

I am not a big socializer. People learn that about me. I am one who watches others, amazed at their comfort within the social scene. I'm more withdrawn and take comfort in my own surroundings. That's me. Is that what you call an introvert? Who would think?

With that said, I have a neighbor who is one of the most social, thoughtful people I know. We don't connect much during the winter, just a text here and there or she'll show up at the door with a bag of yummy trail mix. In the summer, we ride bikes together everyday we can. The weather is generally lovely here in Buffalo - unless it's a rainy week - and so we ride evenings, sometimes mornings too. Best part is we talk while we ride, a mile a minute. 

She tells me the ups and downs of her work week. We talk flowers, gardens, bird feeders, family gatherings and grandchildren, her visits with psychics, and pet peeves. I'm thrilled with what a beautiful person she is inside and out. She calls out to folks walking their dogs and stops to help the elderly needing aid with a wheelbarrow. Her positive thinking brings such joy.

I particularly love how she plans thoughtful events for her grandchildren, all the while committed to designing her own legacy. She takes hours to plant flowers and shrubs in the yard, and then teaches her grandkids how her plants are named so one day the grandchildren may attach memories to their time with grandma in the garden. Recently, she purchased 100 tea lights. Next time the kids are over, each will get 20 lights to put around the room. Someday they will remember, she says, that I have been a force in their life.

There are other summer friends who camp with us at the campground near Attica. One family comes up north from Arizona each summer. Two other families are from the Buffalo area; two more are from Florida. 

We talk for hours on our decks about anything and everything from life in the city to recipes and gardening. Some of us sew together, enjoy campfires, Monday night bingo, occasional campground concerts, and 'just being'.  One thing for sure: we help each other with whatever needs doing, and that's special. These folks have given me huge support across this last year. Each individual is a gem. I am so blessed.

As I look at the sunshine outside today, I include a huge thank you in today's prayers for all my  summer friends. You accept me for who I am and enrich my days with your kindness. You will go beyond cancer with me because that is who you are, and cancer for me is something we have tackled together, within the exchange of life stories, bike riding, and recipes. Just another challenge that makes us stronger together.