Made it!

Well, it is now the 27th. I made it through yesterday, not exactly gracefully, but it is now behind me. My weekend is filled with database work and viola practicing.

The sun is out and I can start moving forward again.

Anniversaries

Today, one year ago, my friend Kristina found a lump. She was 35. Since then she has had four surgeries, 4 A/C, 4 taxol, 52 weeks of herceptin and a full course of rads. She has also continued to be the best Mom of four year old Tessa, loving wife of her husband, and my friend.

Tomorrow, one year ago, I was able to isolate the 'knot' to a lima bean sized lump, and made my first call to a doctor. Saying the word 'lump' out loud was the start of a journey that has changed my life.

Tomorrow, 12 years ago, my brother was killed in an automobile accident in Alaska.

Five days ago, a year ago, my sister was told that she had stage 4 ovarian cancer. It turns out that this was wrong, but it really doesn't matter. We all went through this together.

The next few weeks include more of these 'anniversaries.' No wonder I feel gloomy. I hope that the weather turns soon so that I can go into the garden and pull weeds, and start planting our herbs and tomatoes. That always makes me feel better.

Ponderings

I have been so busy.... two major installations in two weeks. And not just major installations, but two major installations for clients that allowed me to put their projects on hold while I concentrated on getting healthy. These clients waited months and months and months, patiently. They sent me cards, offered to come and feed me and most importantly, refused my offers to find a new developer for them.

I owe these people a lot. And I have taken the final preparations leading to installations very seriously.

Today, I installed for client no 2, and they LOVE it!!!! And, now that they see the possibilities, they want more. Change orders- a lovely word.

In addition to getting back up to speed with databases, I have also been busy rehearsing for my first post treatment chamber music concert. Actually, this is the first chamber music concert I have played in quite a while. I need to practice my own part, plus fit in evening rehearsals three nights per week. I have to say, that even though I am totally exhausted, I love playing seriously again. In the perfect world, I would be part of a professional ensemble that rehearsed and performed regularly. Maybe when I get back on my financial footing, I will work towards this again.

Overall, I am having a hard week. Too many memories are flooding back that relate to anniversaries. I feel gloomy and sad. Maybe being so wildly busy is a good thing.

May is Hard

For a lot of reasons, I simply can't finish posting about France. When we left we were in Olonzac, and the most signifigant day was about to happen. Our day with Kirsti. Kirsti is one of the women I have met during my 'journey', and she is amazing! Maybe, I can write about this later.

May is hard.

It wasn't always hard. Once upon a time, it singaled Spring and the rejuvination of the world here in the Northeast. But, 12 years ago, I lost my only brother this month. And last year, my sister Margaret was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and my breast felt wrong. As I look at the calendar for the next month, I see one year anniversaries everywhere! First mammogram. Bingo! Diagnosis. First core biopsy. Bingo! Diagnosis. First meetings with three oncologists. Bingo! Treatment.

Today, after a doctor's appointment, I headed out to Mt. Holyoke. Lauren's final project for her theatre class was the presentation of a solo performance. I took her out to dinner, and then attended the performance. Since Lauren was running lights, they put her early on the program. To be honest, I didn't understand her performance and I look forward to talking through it with her when she returns home for the summer.

Somewhere around performance no. 5, a young girl used some poetry for her performance. It was about being an unhealthy young person. She went to a prom, had a heart transplant, and then she was trying on clothes for her wedding, and began talking about whether this husband-to-be would be strong enough to deal with her many medical issues. And then she was on the other side of the stage, and began asking "Why is hair loss on a man distinquished, and on a woman it is tragic." And then it moved to breast scars, and radiation, open sores, and I began to breath heavily..... and it kept going, and I was crying.... and the minute the lights went out, I was out the door. I retched in some bushes. I couldn't find my breath.

When I found my balance, I sat in a room upstairs and waited for the show to be over. Lauren called me on the phone... "Are you okay?" but we were disconnected. When we found each other, she was inconsolable. And so we stood on the lawn with Lauren sobbing in my arms. "She didn't know that this girl was going to add that poem," "it was so awful"..... and it was my job to console her.

Lauren is scared. She is scared that this disease is going to kill me. Hell, I am scared. I am scared that this disease is going to kill me. Generally, we live in total denial, but tonight it felt real, and neither one of us liked it. Even in the hands of the young, theatre is a powerful thing.