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.

I keep falling behind on my blogwork as I get more and more into work at the clinic, gardening at both houses, and our full social calendar with friends. It takes a lot of work (and sometimes planning/organization) to juggle two households, two sets of friends, a 3 hour commute back and forth each week, and a job. Lately, we have been doing a lot of additional travel as well, with trips to Charleston, Sunset Beach, with this w-e to Kansas. There are so many comings and goings that I keep getting confused exactly which w-e’s are Asheville ones and which involve travel to another area. It’s a great problem to have, and one that I could only dream about last year during my cancer treatment. I don’t take it all for granted. A few rogue leukemia cells, and I’d be back in my Duke blue chair in the bone marrow clinic getting platelets and blood, only dreaming about going somewhere for pleasure travel.

I have been thinking about travel a lot lately because this week is the 1 yr anniversary (if you want to call it that) of my leukemia diagnosis. While that is not exactly something to celebrate, I am looking forward to June 20th which will be 1 yr in remission from AML. Last year, I was hospitalized from June 13th-20th for 7 days of intensive, continuous chemo. At the end of that treatment, I was in remission. I plan to celebrate June 20th because it commemorates a year of life I wouldn’t have had without all of that tough treatment. I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to many people for helping me through all of that. My pal Peggy, the potter out in California, has been making mugs for me to give as cups of gratitude. I just got a shipment of them, and they are gorgeous. I am hoping that everyone who gets one realizes how much I appreciate their efforts to help me get well. And I hope that they can symbolize for me, and for them, how precious life is. Yeah, and here is a beautiful handmade piece of sky and mountains to remind you (the mugs are porcelain with a beautiful blue and green glaze that looks to me like the sky and mtns).

Today's photos are from our hike last week in the Max Patch area of the Appalachian Trail-our Ansel Adams, and cucumber vine.

Having a Time of It

We spent the w-e enjoying a beach house duplex at Sunset Beach. Though it is part of the NC shore (just barely though since you can see N. Myrtle Beach from some spots of the beach), it has the wide, gently sloped white sands of the SC beaches I grew up with. The water was a bit too cold for me to swim, though some of the hardier souls in our group took advantage of the warm sunny days to do some boogie boarding. Holly and I made do with beach runs and fried seafood and kayaking in the sound. We saw many good birds including one large bald eagle perched high in a tree on the other side the sound as well as numerous oyster catchers swooping around the waters edge. Our group of ten managed to eat, swim, play bocce ball, bird watch, kayak and cook together. Sharon reserved an upstairs/downstairs duplex, and we had plenty of bathrooms and queen beds to go around. We ended up with 2 kitchens, too, of course, which really simplified mealtimes, especially the evening we all cooked together (gaucamole and chips then grilled red snapper, boiled shrimp, grilled veggies, broiled asparagus, followed by ice cream and fresh strawberries). Though it kept threatening to rain and thunderstorm at various times during the w-e, the bad weather held off until Sunday night. It was still pretty windy this morning, but the worst of the rain had past. Before we left, I got in a good run, enjoying the beach almost to myself. It was an excellent day to watch the storm clouds roil by and to feel the pull of the tide on the sand beneath my feet. Others were out vetting their new raincoats and other waterproof gear, while I enjoyed the contrast of the post run warmth and the cold pelting raindrops. It was something else.

Though several folks made comments about our antiquated whitewater boats, which we took to kayak in the sound, we had a perfectly good time getting in and out of the marsh creeks and alleyways made by the reeds. Neither of us paddle enough to justify spending money on new boats expressly for sea kayaking or more accurately marsh kayaking. (The boats we have are free- a price I like alot, as my father likes to say...) Here are some photos from that trip. Top-me, Middle-Holly, Bottom-Holly with single, Laurie & Julia with their canoe

Yet Another Reprieve

I had my yearly mammogram this morning, and I am happy to report that everything is clear there too. Last week it was the bone marrow biopsy results, and this week the mammogram. Duke just replaced their mammography machines with a new state-of-the-art digital machine. Unfortunately, at this point, they only have one of them. Everyone who used to get their scans in the three different rooms must now funnel through the one machine. The scan itself is quicker and has higher resolution. However, because there is currently only one of them, all of us waiting for the radiologist to interpret our images waited with the ladies yet to have their mammograms. I sensed that things were pretty tense as soon as I stepped into the room to wait on my turn. First, there was only one free chair for me to sit in, the rest were filled with other women waiting to go back to have their mammogram or to receive their results. One lady got called back to the radiologist's area for a "consultation." She ended up having additional views taken, followed by an Ultrasound. Suffice to say that she did not get good news today. It cast a pall over the whole room. I wanted to tell her that I'd been there, done that, but I kept quiet. It was unnerving enough for the poor lady to get bad news surrounded by a whole room full of strangers. Of course, they didn't actually tell her the news in front of us all, but we were all sitting there waiting to be told that we could get dressed now and everything is okay and here is your copy of the radiologist's note, blah, blah, blah. She didn't get any of that; she got extra scans, an Ultrasound and questions from the tech about how to contact her doctor. So we all knew without officially knowing anything specific. She left with that blank, shocked look on her face that I know only too well.

When I got back to the big Snappy machine, I just let my tech move me all kinds of different ways - pushing me here and there under the plexiglass ledge and bending my face out of the way of the beam. She kept commenting on how good a patient I was, and how she hoped that she wasn't hurting me, especially when she had to get the machine really tight into my chest wall where my old scar is located. I told her that my goal is to be flexible like Gumby; she seemed to appreciate that. "But you are so good; usually they are complaining when I press this hard." I explained that after the bone marrow biopsies, this was nothing. "Well I hope that you don't ever have to have another one of those," she said. Yeah, well that isn't likely, I thought, but I kept it to myself. I got good news today, which is more than I can say for that other poor lady. I'll be thinking about her this week, and all she has to take in.

On a different note, we did have our fete for Ellen on Sunday. Here she is in her celebratory yellow shirt at her graduation party.

Peonies for Mom

Today is Mother's Day and I am up early enjoying the birds singing and the big bushy peonies blooming in my Asheville garden. I'll do a run later this morning before the gang comes over for Ellen's brunch. We are honoring our pal Ellen because this w-e, she is graduating with her BSN in Nursing. Tough as it was, she worked full time as an RN at our hospital here AND went to school for the advanced degree. I think we'll get to see a little more of her now. So we are having a big celebratory brunch for her on this beautiful Mother's Day.

My mom, Sara, is in Atlanta to celebrate the college graduation of my niece, Sara, from the University of Georgia, which incidently my mother graduated from as well (a branch of the UGA system in Columbus). My mom also went to college in her 40's and worked hard to attain that precious diploma. She and I were in college at the same time, so I know a thing or two about how hard that must have been to achieve. But my mother is one of the strongest people I know, and when she sets her mind on something, watch out! She always told us " where there's a will, there's a way" and she made that happen. I am so fortunate to have some of her determination and will in me.

I think I also inherited my love of plants from her; so Mom, here are some beautiful peonies I photographed just for you this morning. If I could bring you one so that you could smell its sweet aroma and see all the delicate layers to the blossoms, I would. I love you very much. Happy Mother's Day, your Tree