"Over the river, and through the woods..." (Lydia Maria Child)
You'd think I'd be depressed going through chemotherapy in December. Odd though it may seem, I'm not. As I write this I'm watching, against the dark of the bare and evergreen trees, delicate snowflakes glide effortlessly down as they float to the ground. It is peaceful and beautiful both outside and in. Yes, I'm feeling content -- even, perhaps, a little handsome.
My treatments will terminate at the end, and the beginning, of the year. Odd though that may seem, my final treatments overlap 2013 into 2014 -- it simply happened that way. Yes, and while it isn't over yet, I feel very fortunate -- lucky some might say -- to have had such a smooth journey through this process called chemotherapy.
... to Grandfather's house we go...
No, I'm not counting the eggs before they're laid, but simply feeling the joy of the season while home alone. My treatments have been successful so far. My cancer will have been put to sleep, hopefully for many years. And my recovery from chemo should proceed according to plan, such that I'll be able to live a "normal" life and be able to, once again, play robustly in the season's gifts of snowstorms.
The type of cancer I have is chronic and, at present, there is no cure for it. As such, it will rear its ugly head again. But if I have any say in the matter it will be many years down the road. And there are ongoing treatments for my type of cancer, so I'll most likely be around for some time.
But with all this excellent news for me, there are others who are going through a protocol for the same and different cancers during this Christmas season. I'm not alone in being treated. We are never truly alone. It is for my fellow travelers on this journey to whom I'd like to wish tidings of great joy during this special time of year. May you find peace, and may the angels in your lives bring you immense happiness along with the drifts and flurries.
So it is with this joy, peace and happiness in mind that I'd also like to thank all the angels we've encountered along the highways and byways. There are so many of you, and many more that we don't even know, or know yet. It is your generous natures that reminds me that this is the season of giving -- and each of you has given to us in ways that may appear to be easy or second nature to you, but to us they are precious jewels we will treasure always.
... the horse knows the way to carry the sleigh...
Whether you drive us to our treatments, make food for us, work at a cancer center, give massages, or any number of volunteer or medical personnel working in oncology, you deserve to know how very much you are appreciated. We may not show it as we try to hold up our end of conversations, are anxious over the ongoing tests, or sleep through the infusions and drives home; but we know that it is because of you that we have made it this far, and will make it further, knowing that our driveways and walks have been plowed and shoveled.
Yes, this is the season of giving, and I, along with the thousands of others with cancer this Christmas, want to give all the angels our heartfelt thanks for everything they have done for us this past year, and all the years before and those yet to come. For without you floating, like the snowflakes, around our lives, we would be less than, for it is your presence that makes us not only better physically, but richer mentally.
Here's wishing you a Merry Christmas, a Happy Holiday, and a Wonderful New Year.
Timing: 30-Dec thru 3-Jan cycle six (6) of chemotherapy.
Oh, and Bart Cushing and Ron Ishkanian have been added to my list of angels here on earth.
... through the white and drifted snow.
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 1 History
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 2 Vincristine Study
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 3 Prep for Chemo
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 4 Cycle 1
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 5 Neutroponic Fever
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 6 Nadir Charts
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 7 Cycle 2
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 8 How People Respond
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 9 Cycle 3
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 10 Medical Marijuana
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 11 Cycle 4
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 12 The Infusion Room
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 13 Cycle 5
from Healthy Living - The Huffington Post http://www.huffingtonpost.com/james-stack/postcards-from-lebanon-pa_3_b_4479388.html?utm_hp_ref=healthy-living&ir=Healthy+Living
via IFTTT
You'd think I'd be depressed going through chemotherapy in December. Odd though it may seem, I'm not. As I write this I'm watching, against the dark of the bare and evergreen trees, delicate snowflakes glide effortlessly down as they float to the ground. It is peaceful and beautiful both outside and in. Yes, I'm feeling content -- even, perhaps, a little handsome.
My treatments will terminate at the end, and the beginning, of the year. Odd though that may seem, my final treatments overlap 2013 into 2014 -- it simply happened that way. Yes, and while it isn't over yet, I feel very fortunate -- lucky some might say -- to have had such a smooth journey through this process called chemotherapy.
... to Grandfather's house we go...
No, I'm not counting the eggs before they're laid, but simply feeling the joy of the season while home alone. My treatments have been successful so far. My cancer will have been put to sleep, hopefully for many years. And my recovery from chemo should proceed according to plan, such that I'll be able to live a "normal" life and be able to, once again, play robustly in the season's gifts of snowstorms.
The type of cancer I have is chronic and, at present, there is no cure for it. As such, it will rear its ugly head again. But if I have any say in the matter it will be many years down the road. And there are ongoing treatments for my type of cancer, so I'll most likely be around for some time.
But with all this excellent news for me, there are others who are going through a protocol for the same and different cancers during this Christmas season. I'm not alone in being treated. We are never truly alone. It is for my fellow travelers on this journey to whom I'd like to wish tidings of great joy during this special time of year. May you find peace, and may the angels in your lives bring you immense happiness along with the drifts and flurries.
So it is with this joy, peace and happiness in mind that I'd also like to thank all the angels we've encountered along the highways and byways. There are so many of you, and many more that we don't even know, or know yet. It is your generous natures that reminds me that this is the season of giving -- and each of you has given to us in ways that may appear to be easy or second nature to you, but to us they are precious jewels we will treasure always.
... the horse knows the way to carry the sleigh...
Whether you drive us to our treatments, make food for us, work at a cancer center, give massages, or any number of volunteer or medical personnel working in oncology, you deserve to know how very much you are appreciated. We may not show it as we try to hold up our end of conversations, are anxious over the ongoing tests, or sleep through the infusions and drives home; but we know that it is because of you that we have made it this far, and will make it further, knowing that our driveways and walks have been plowed and shoveled.
Yes, this is the season of giving, and I, along with the thousands of others with cancer this Christmas, want to give all the angels our heartfelt thanks for everything they have done for us this past year, and all the years before and those yet to come. For without you floating, like the snowflakes, around our lives, we would be less than, for it is your presence that makes us not only better physically, but richer mentally.
Here's wishing you a Merry Christmas, a Happy Holiday, and a Wonderful New Year.
Timing: 30-Dec thru 3-Jan cycle six (6) of chemotherapy.
Oh, and Bart Cushing and Ron Ishkanian have been added to my list of angels here on earth.
... through the white and drifted snow.
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 1 History
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 2 Vincristine Study
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 3 Prep for Chemo
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 4 Cycle 1
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 5 Neutroponic Fever
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 6 Nadir Charts
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 7 Cycle 2
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 8 How People Respond
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 9 Cycle 3
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 10 Medical Marijuana
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 11 Cycle 4
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 12 The Infusion Room
Postcards From Lebanon: Part 13 Cycle 5
from Healthy Living - The Huffington Post http://www.huffingtonpost.com/james-stack/postcards-from-lebanon-pa_3_b_4479388.html?utm_hp_ref=healthy-living&ir=Healthy+Living
via IFTTT
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