VACAY!!

Sometimes, people have told me they can tell how I am feeling by the number of blog posts I throw out there in any given week.....  Well, have no fear, this has not been a bad week.  It's been the best week since maybe the last time I stood on a faraway beach. 

I am having a chemo-vacay here, folks. 

My brain has not recovered so fast - meaning my counting could be off here - but it has been 16 days since my last chemo, and my body is rising up and doing a little happy dance all over the place.  I had done four straight weeks of chemo - 3 days each week - and at the first "chemo-reject" I just cried and cried.  The second chemo reject, was, well, somewhat emotionless on my part. 

In fact, even though a third of me just wanted to weep again, the other two-thirds of my body was ready to stand up and do a rendition of the "Oklahoma" square dance.  Or some such jig.  It was happy and ready to pack up and have a good vacation at the Lake.  Cinnamon Lake, as we sadly do not own a beach house, but Cinnamon Lake viewing has been just fine for me this week. 

It has felt so good.  I honestly did not realize how bad I was feeling, until I am not feeling that bad.  And this past week, my appetite has started to come back and some days I am even over-eating, and my stomach is all ok about it.  It's like "she's on vacation - let her go ahead and fill up".....

In fact, I am having a huge love affair with Buehler's artisan french white bread dipping it in olive oil and balsamic vinegar.   

Be still my soul.  And yes I did say artisan - as in 'bakery' - because I am living on the edge this week.  I have not eaten white bread in like a decade, maybe.

Watch out Thelma and Louise - there's a new risky female in town.

I still have some vague reminders - I am tired easily still; there is some "metallic" taste still in my mouth; my brain cells do not seem to be repopulating as quickly as I had hoped, amongst other things - but all those aside, I am striding.  Or at least feeling like it in some forms. 

And the best thing about the whole vacation thing is that I have had some *careful* visitors.  And even went out for a visit.  

How's that for your local germ-a-phobe???!!!! 

******

I sent my mom a note last week and told her my weekly grocery list for Scott to pick up for me goes something like this:  4 cans of peaches; 4 cans of oranges; applesauce snack packs; 4 green bananas; eggs to make pudding; 6 packs of gum.  That was pretty much my diet for quite a few weeks.   

My boss - and she does not like that moniker, but the "Executive Director" of where I work - stopped in Friday morning with a huge basket, box and bag full of small snack pack type edibles - peaches, applesauce, mandarin oranges, soups, crackers - my stomach was especially ecstatic.

Those will all be well used. 

She stayed and talked for a while.  It was pretty glorious to connect back to a world that I feel is so far away from me now.   I have so missed hearing her pray. 
 
Good friends came over Saturday, and Scott and "his buddy" headed outside to check the asparagus and then had a long chat out in the cold, shivery late afternoon garden.  It was medicine to his soul.

I chatted forever with what seemed like a long lost friend.  My brain felt halfway in the here and now and I could actually do a conversation for a while.  For the most part anyways, and it was balm over a sore and weary soul.

It has been such an amazingly long time it seems since I have felt a little bit normal - normal meaning I can communicate more than short syllables and feel connected.  I still fall asleep before 8pm.  I still cannot think well.  I still get a little bit of nausea.  But when I heard them come in the door and came down the steps, I had to go back upstairs and cry for a minute - it hits me like that.  Then when I thought I was ok and came down again, I cried for a minute - or two - more.  It was that good to see them and be feeling ok enough to engage in life again.  To be happy about foods again.  To be happy to share a meal of sorts.  To be able to just enjoy your friends and your life.

Jim said I was in a war and was "on furlough".    And I think that is a good analysis - because I cannot tell you how much I am dreading going back to the war this Wednesday.....  I think of the time that our son was home on furlough from Iraq, and I am sure he dreaded going back more,  so I cannot whine too much when our airports are full of dessert-color-camos doing something much braver.  I mean I don't wear kevlar when walking into the treatment center.  So I need to be "soldiering-up" to get back in the arena.  

I am just enjoying this mini-break in treatments.  A lot.