Other People's Cancer

I have been reeling a bit recently as we learned that 2 people close to us have cancer. I am just now celebrating my 1 year anniversary in remission, a time of sweet celebration for me. But it is tempered a bit by all of the other emotions that come up with such a major death scare - the hard times in treatment, how things could have turned out differently, and how even something as innocent my monthly blood test is a reminder that despite all my current good health and energy, things could change at the drop of a hat. I don't intend to stay in this mode for long-remembering the bad/scary moments -but I am worried doubly for my pals with their new diagnoses of cancer. I hate that anyone has to go through this too and feel all of the uncertainty, worry, and grief that accompanies cancer. I can only hope that my pals get all the support and love they need to deal with this.

Our friends Rebecca and Sara were with us last weekend in Asheville. We took advantage of the great weather to see the magical display of rhododendron and flame azalea at Roan Mtn. I've included a few of those photos here.

Just a Regular Old Update

I realize that I have been slow in getting back to the blog lately-mostly because I am doing well, and we are very busy. We have been getting back to Asheville most w-e's except when we are headed to the beach with friends, or to Charleston with Holly's Dad, or to Kansas for her niece's wedding. Asheville has finally gotten its share of wet weather after 2 yrs of drought, and our garden is thirstily drinking it up. I have spent a great deal of time recently mowing, mulching, separating and generally tending to all of the plants there. The plants have really spread out, and the garden is all a mish-mash of spent peonies, irises, bee balm, phlox and other varieties. I am still trying to tame all of the weeds that got a head start last year when I wasn't able to play in the dirt due to my cancer treatment. I spent most of Monday getting some order to the bigger area of the hillside, prying out miniature tree stalks, native grape vine gone wild, and just plain old grass. It was quite satisfying to get a bit more order going there, even if there is still much to do.

The garden here in Hillsborough seems so orderly by comparison but that's only because it is young still and hasn't taken off yet. There are more trees along the fence here (on purpose to act as a plant barrier) and fewer perennials, giving it more daylight and mulch between plants. I have just harvested my second crop of romaine lettuce for a dinner we are having tonight with friends. I love being able to say "I grew that." I have also planted broccoli (hope I'll know when it's ready), herbs, tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, and berries.

I have been meaning to relay a story about our latest visit to hear music at the French Broad brewery a few w-e's ago. We had gone to see the Leigh Glass band with some of our pals, who also like bluesy, folksy rock. I was sitting at one of the tables when this guy comes up and offers to buy me a beer. He tells me that Leigh Glass, the woman singer and front musician for the band, wanted to buy me a beer. I deferred telling him that she didn't have to do that but thank you. Then a song or two later she announced that sometimes she googles the band's name to assess the presence and impact of their bookings. She said that one day she came across this blog from someone doing her own healing and wanted to thank me for being there with my pals. She'd been having a bad day, wondering if what she does is worthwhile. It was uplifting for her to see that she IS making a difference. I was very touched by her gesture; she certainly didn't have to acknowledge my struggles in such a kind, encouraging way. Leigh if you're reading this, thank you. And keep on playing-you are making a difference.

What a Difference a Year Makes

June 4th last year was my last day of work before going out for 7 months. I had just gotten my official diagnosis of AML from the hematology-oncology specialist at UNC. On June 4th, I gathered together a circle of my coworkers and announced that I would be leaving to have cancer treatment. At that point, I thought that I would be admitted to UNC for chemo and then a bone marrow transplant. I also thought that I'd be out of work only 3 mos, expecting to return by September. Well there were lots of zigs and zags after that, but, now, a year later, I am back at the Charles Drew Center taking care of others. I am healthy; my cancer is in remission and I didn't have to have a bone marrow transplant with its attendant problems and complications. I cannot do justice to the feelings I've had in the last few days, as I've relived the events of my diagnosis last year-the fear I had then, of the unknown ahead, and the extreme gratitude I feel now for my extra year, jammed pack with fun and the love of friends and family. Every day that I can be of help and significance is a good day.
Every day that I get to run or walk outside, either alone or with others, is a good day.

While we were in Kansas last week, I saw a cool magazine article in the Atlantic Monthly. There is an ongoing study of happiness and life events in a cohort of Harvard men. The researchers have been interviewing the men since college, and they are getting to be elders at this point (both the researchers and the study participants). They have found that the one best predictor of happiness is good relationships-not money or prestige or job success. Just plain old relationships. It's amazing that all the trappings and things and money can't make one happy; yet so many people work so hard for those things. When you wake up one day and hear that you have cancer, you realize that you might not live to a ripe old age. Money and things don't seem very important but relationships do. I think they have it right, those researchers.

Today I feel fortunate and happy to have so many people who made a difference for me in the last year. If you're reading this, thank you.