Nearly a week since my last post! But a celebration is in order. 17 weeks ago, I had an endoscopy, with little expectation for any significant issue to be discovered. I had some chest pain that I suspected was stress related. I was wrong. 

And that's how this journey began with a surprising diagnosis of Large B Cell Lymphoma. And a stomach ulcer which was the cause of my pain. 

Yesterday, I had another endoscopy and the ulcer is healed. The day before, Monday, I met with my oncologist who reported the results of scans I had received earlier that morning. No evidence of cancer. He said that I am probably already cured of the cancer before radiation treatments begin later this month.

The cancer was discovered early. It was dangerous and aggressive; the American Cancer Society noted that only 50% survive this kind of lymphoma. But I was treated by an excellent physician and a capable team at Sarah Cannon Cancer Center. Of course, I will continue to receive regular monitoring. But I am thankful and blessed, surrounded by prayers and encouragement. Cured. Wow!

Each evening, as the last bit of glorious sunshine filters through the trees beyond our western fence, Judy picks the finished daylily blooms. Daylilies only bloom for one day. The plant, or clump, may have lots of buds that allow it to produce blooms for several weeks, maybe as long as a month. Sometimes I help; and our granddaughter has been known to help, prior to softball and Covid. So Judy goes throughout the garden plucking today's blooms. We used to call it deadheading the plants. Now Judy refers to the practice as "live-heading". Not every daylily gardener does this, but Judy enjoys seeing fresh blooms in the morning. 

It's very nearly a spiritual practice, "blessing the day", giving thanks for blessings and noting those interactions that were less than blessings. The blooms are picked off and dropped into a large plastic tub. The beauty is past, often with just a hint remaining of the depth of its earlier color. The blessing is remembered. And we, even in that moment, are preparing to see the beauty after the next dawn. I'm very much in that mode as I prepare for my next cancer treatments, thankful for all that is past and what has been achieved, and looking forward to what the new day will bring. Especially when this is all complete!

So, the new neighbor finally hired his own surveyors to mark the boundaries of the property that he purchased last year. The original owner who bought these 6 acres twenty years ago never built a house there but sold it to the new neighbor for $250,000. Without a survey from the seller, the new neighbor alienated all of his neighbors at one time or another by acting as though he knew where the boundaries were by consulting Google Maps on his phone. Trying to avoid additional misunderstandings, I paid $350 last year for a survey of the property line between us. Now we have a a new marker, not so different from the discarded one, and the line goes right through a line of trees that are about 3 feet from my pool fence. 

Obviously, this relationship with my new neighbor has not gone well. I don't have problems with other neighbors. One even called me the neighborhood ambassador. My new neighbor thinks I'm the ass in ambassador. This is clearly a test of my beliefs and practices in forgiveness, and repentance, in grace and compassion. 

The trees are ugly, and certainly not anything I want to protect. I do want to be a good neighbor. In "Mending Wall", Robert Frost wrote: "He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors.'" And so we have orange markers and we are divided for the time being, and not good neighbors, nor friends, yet.

I have failed so far. And it may never change. But we have each seen glimpses of kindness from the other; we have just forgotten the possibilities for the time being.

Okay, this is ridiculous! 1 of three photos taken with iPhone 12 Pro Max. Initially, I did not think I managed to include the wasp that happened to fly by the trumpet vine blossoms, but there it is! The previous owner planted trumpet vine along the fence between the pool and the end of the driveway, two varieties: orange and yellow. While it provides lots of privacy, the trumpet vines have not been a popular part of our garden with Judy and me. Trumpet vine spreads. Shoots come up between the boards of our deck, easily 15 feet away. I am uncertain whether at this point we would even be able to get rid of it. Did I say that it spreads?

Like so much else that can't be controlled: grace, love, compassion, generosity, understanding, peace. They all spread.

Rough three days! I felt absolutely miserable, even wondering if this feeling would ever end. But Thursday morning was different, and I became aware that I had more energy as the day progressed. Maddy came over at noon to celebrate her 15th birthday (a week delayed) with pizza, neapolitan ice cream and cake. I ate it all. And managed some pool time later in the afternoon. I believe that the prednisone helps me during the first week after chemo, but it would certainly have helped the second week, but I didn't ask. Now I'm done and I will have another 10 days or so of regaining energy before seeing my trio of doctors during the last few days of June who are guiding me to wellness. Today, I'm glad to be among the living.

It's funny how quickly I seize on good news! Dr. Jones told me Monday morning that I would only receive three weeks of daily radiation instead of the six weeks I had been expecting. Yes, well, only four months ago I didn't know I had Diffuse Large B Cell Lymphoma and it became good news that I would only require four chemotherapy treatments instead of six, and now the good news of only three weeks of radiation. It is good news that my cancer was diagnosed early and that my body is responding to the treatment. But these past three months have been physically and emotionally challenging. I do anticipate that the radiation will be physically easier. Today, however, was a significant day of fatigue. My white blood count was only 1.7 and the neutrophils were 0.7, very low. So, I remain quite vulnerable to common infections and need to limit my physical interactions with others. But the good news is that long before summer ends my treatments for this lymphoma will be complete!

We have a few jokes in our daylily collection. This is one of them: "Tipsy Parson". We've got a few others that have names that bring a smile to my face. I thought I would include this photo today and why it's significant to me.

I have begun to think about what happens after cancer treatment is complete, and how I can help myself return to fitness and health. Some of the answers are obvious: exercise, healthy eating, no smoking (never a problem), regular check-ups, adequate sleep (will be a challenge), refrain from alcohol (again not much of a problem, hence the photo of Tipsy Parson). There were recommendations for emotional and spiritual support as well. I found an excellent resource from www.cancer.gov "Life After Treatment."

I did swim 4 times in the pool on Sunday with the longest duration being 10 laps (800 feet) with a total for the day of 2,000 feet. I didn't set any speed records, but that is quite an achievement in less than a week after my final chemotherapy treatment.

I do meet with the radiation oncologist today for a consultation about the process going forward. I anticipate that my treatment will be complete before my granddaughter returns to school for her sophomore year. It feels so good to have these three months behind me. Not tipsy at all!

I shared this photo some years ago, but it represents something different this time.

Renewal. As good as new. Durable. Fixed. Repaired. Good for another 20 years.

Chemo made me feel old. Swimming makes me feel young.

Looking in the mirror is someone I don't recognize. But laughing fills me with hope.

This looks fixed for the long term.