Alive and Well, almost

I have my first cold. I guess getting out to the Central Coast Quilt Show, movies, and shopping, wasn't such a good idea. But, I sure had fun while it lasted. I never realized how good I felt until I had to endure 6 months of chemotherapy. Now I need to address the issue of having a compromised immune system and even though my blood tests show I'm getting there, I'm still not up to "normal" white cells. I have to take it easy for a little while longer. I have plenty of projects to keep me busy and rest at the same time.

I wanted to introduce some of my peeps at my oncologist's office. On the left is Dr. David Palchak, whom I refer to as my "doc." When he's not killing cancer dragons, he is an avid gardner. We have recently shared some irises that I found in BH&G that bloom more than once a year.

Below is nurse Phea, who in her spare time ran a half marathon in Amber's name, for the Leukemia Lymphoma Society in San Francisco. This is her 6th, most of them full 26 milers. Look on the lower left side of her shirt for Amber Carter. Thank you, Phea. You are the bomb!
Next posting, I will introduce you to the rest of the gang. Until then, keep running, or walking or resting! I will be doing the latter for the time being.

No news is good news

This was and is my Dad's philosophy. He's going to be 94 in December, and apparently it has been good for him. Me? I am a worrier. I sit on the edge of my seat when things are going good. I await the dark cloud to dim my view when I am in full sunlight. I question reality, when is it going to rain? When will the earthquake hit? When will my cancer recurr? That's why I need Nettie. She's my therapist and worth every penny and then some. When I begin my session with her and claim everything is going ok, she must brace herself because I hardly ever really feel ok and yet I am the comedian. That must be my saving grace. My sense of humor. My friends know how I cover my feelings with a happy face, jokingly talk about cancer as the crab grass of the world. But in the darkness of my inner thoughts I am scared. That's why I write, it fuels my soul and allows the bad thoughts to run around and get tuckered out. Then they nap, and I am free until the next time.

In between treatments

Lately, I've been having some "stinkin thinkin," and need to snap out of it. My general health is improving daily and I'm getting out more and even taking a dance class. However, even though I realize it hasn't even been a year since my diagnosis, there is a little demon in my head saying I should be doing more. That's when I get depressed and don't sleep well. Good thing I see a therapist weekly. Somehow, she can listen to me and find out the root of my discomfort even when I usually can't put my finger on it. In this case, the root was about my mortality. I have been trying to take care of things or have them in place "just in case" I don't live very much longer. Now, I haven't been told I won't live long, its just that little demon that sits on my shoulder and whispers damaging things in my ear.
Its my job to push that "stinker thinker" off my shoulder and put tape over his mouth! Right? So, I'm trying to do that, or at least talk about it to those who love me, which are many. I continually surprise people one way or the other and they just keep staying close to me. I am truly blessed.