The lawn and garden must be almost a month ahead of what might occur during a "normal" year. Plants are popping out of the ground at a furious pace and the early bloomers are beginning to strut their stuff.
The downside to all of this is that because of my cancer, I'm not allowed to get into any of it, and it's almost more than I can take. I'm reduced to admiring and taking pictures. I'm going to be entering a phase in my treatment where my immunity will be next to nil and dirt is not my friend. Since I hadn't started yet, I thought it would be okay to do a little spring clean-up as long as I wore gloves, but when I confessed this to my caregivers, I got the big frowns. I know they have my best interest at heart, but I don't think they realize what they're asking.
"It's only one year," I keep telling myself.
So, I am getting ready for the next step, and it's a big step. A stem cell transplant. There are several phases to this procedure that will all get rolling very soon. I would imagine that just like anyone else who's ever gone through this, I have mixed feelings about it. I know it's my best shot at a longer remission. I also know that it's something that takes quite a while to recover from, so it's going to take patience---not my strong suit. At this point, I'm ready to get going, reasoning that the sooner I get started, the sooner I can start that recovery and try to enjoy more of the summer. Myeloma is not an easy cancer to beat, but we're giving it our best shot. As you can imagine, I'm lining up all kinds of projects and forms of entertainment to get me through the next couple of months. I have three knitting projects going, a Kindle full of books from friends' recommendations, and an iPhone with the whole new season of "Downton Abbey" waiting for me. (Talk about restraint! Not sneaking a peak at even a minute of one new episode, even during my worst nights of insomnia.) From what I understand, next to the nausea and fatigue, boredom is the biggest complaint patients have. As a kid, complaining about boredom was never tolerated, and I guess I've never forgotten that lesson. I'm looking at this as a time to enjoy the opportunity I have to have permission to only do what's fun and, if possible, to maybe get a few smaller projects completed. I don't have to feel bad about taking a nap or reading in the middle of the afternoon. How great is that! Total pass.
If you're reading this, and are so inclined. say a little prayer for me. I'll take any support I can get.
3 comments:
Oh, that is painful. My sympathies. But focus on next spring and gardening when you're healthy. It will be so much sweeter. I missed last year's spring planting season because of my run-in with cancer, so I feel your frustration. Prayers being said -- keep strong.
I can just picture you with all the frowny faces from the medical team. You must've felt like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.
If there is anything I can do to help, you can direct me through the window. Maybe I'll learn something and turn my brown thumbs green in the process. Just let me know.
I know it will be difficult to be isolated, but you are very resourceful and will enjoy working on the projects you have lined up.
You are in my prayers, dear friend. I miss your company and look forward to being able to get together again.
Praying that your treatment will be successful and that you won't suffer too mch from the side-effects.
Post a Comment