Today is Michael and Amy's 25th wedding anniversary. Wow! How can that be possible!

A friend, Lynn Taylor, brought this sumptuous bouquet of peonies to our house yesterday to help celebrate our good news from Dr. Thompson.

My blood counts were excellent Monday morning. But the exciting news from Dr. Thompson was that the PET scan revealed my cancer is in clinical remission, "no abnormal uptake". "Perfect!" I had my third chemo treatment Monday and will have my final one four weeks later on June 7. Although I have stage 3 Diffuse Large B Cell Lymphoma which was detected early, the treatment has worked its magic. I will have another PET scan in late June as well as a repeat endoscopy prior to seeing Dr. Thompson near the end of June. He will refer me to a radiation oncologist who will determine the number of treatments. So July will likely be daily trips for radiation. Dr. Thompson was as excited as we were. 

Another friend said this morning, "All you gotta do is show up, and the docs do the rest!" And another added, "Prayers and a smart oncologist are a powerful combination!" Indeed, it is certainly working for me. Long range, I will be monitored every three months for the first year, and with longer time spans for the next five years. But after two encounters with different cancers within a short amount of time, I am hopeful, grateful, blessed, amazed, excited. I awoke early Tuesday. My joy has increased. Planning for the fall, where shall we go?

Today is my third chemotherapy treatment. Honestly, I do not want to do this again. After experiencing two chemo sessions, I know what I am facing with the third and how I will feel for the two weeks following. It's no fun. 

I do want to be well. I do want the cancer to be gone. And I know the medication cocktail must be doing what is necessary to kill the cancer cells. I will find out for certain today as I should hear the results of the PET scan that was performed on Friday. I should know the effect of the cumulative chemotherapy sessions on my cancer today. And it will probably be good news, at least I hope so.

I've included this photo to encourage me to have healthy snacks today. From past experience, I don't have much of an appetite on treatment day nor for several days. Today I may have a better sense of the treatment plan going forward as well. Good stuff could still happen today.

The Common Lectionary readings for the Sixth Sunday of Easter include Psalm 98, Acts 10:44-48, John 15:9-17, and 1John 5:1-6. Today is my turn to teach Sunday School via Zoom. We will all be glad to be back together in person some day. I suspect my cancer treatments will keep me out of the classroom longer than the wonderful day when the class can finally gather. My anticipation is already building for that probable Sunday in late summer or early autumn.

The Acts passage is the first instance of "all" meaning ALL when the message of God's love spreads beyond the Hebrew nation to the Gentiles. The non-Jewish listeners to Peter's message respond with exuberant praise which astonished the Jewish disciples. 

The 15th chapter of the Gospel of John explores the significance of being chosen for friendship by Jesus. And that followers of Jesus are to love as Jesus loves. Wouldn't that be amazing if the Church loved as Jesus loved? Too many examples demonstrate that's not true yet.

Psalm 98 is an exuberant hymn of praise that extends throughout creation.

The instruction in 1John 5 is to love those within the Church which is a constrained command for a group facing persecution. It seems to me that the Church fails to even love those within the Church.

Hopefully, this morning's class could be a fun discussion.

It's tempting to consider one's situation as unique. Easy to think you alone are experiencing this life-altering event. 

But it's simply not true. Many before you have traveled this road and there will be many after your journey.

You are not alone.

Surrounded, wrote the author of the Letter the Hebrews, by a great cloud of witnesses.

Google and various social media demonstrate that one's experience is not solitary.

Two observations:

My experience may not be the same as yours but it is not wholly unique. We can learn from each other's journey.

And we are supported by a large group of encouragers who care about us and want us to succeed.

Not alone. Never was. Never will be.

The image below of Autumn Ferns, cultivar "Brilliance", was shot with a macro lens at f/2.8 which results in a very narrow depth of field. One frond is sharply in focus while surrounding ones are shown in varying softness and the play of light even sends some into the shadows. Our experience is sharply apparent to us, sometimes to the exclusion of others. But I hope this photo represents we are not alone.

I made it to the Frist to see the Picasso exhibit! Yes, I have lost hair, haven't shaved my face in about three weeks! Exciting to be out doing normal things, although everyone inside was masked. Still, the Frist is always a joy for us. Pan down to see more exhibit photos.

Creating the American West in Art. "The Rabbit Hunt" by E. Martin Hemmings

"Reading Woman" by Picasso

Titled "Man with an Ax" by Liana Porter, is this the result of a music hater?

Wednesday was a near-normal day. Beautiful sunshine. 68 degrees. Added more salt to the pool, the water is so clear and inviting. Cooked a boneless pork roast over charcoal on the Weber Grill. Delicious. Shared dinner with friends. Energy level felt near normal.

Celebrating this near-normal day.

This is a rare day now. Few days are near-normal. Chemo on Monday. The days after will not be normal.

But later this summer, my normal routine will return. Friends. Grilling out. Swimming in the pool. Energized. Grateful. Blessed.

It's gardening season at the Hideaway. The season is long here, as it is with most gardeners. Getting your fingers in the dirt. Wanting new plants. Moving old plants. Pulling the rare weed. Imagining the view. Visiting other gardens. 

Judy has had a garden everywhere we lived. And here she has more room to create. And the garden is growing.

I watch and encourage. Her efforts will result in more opportunities for me to photograph. I do provide some aesthetic advice, what could make a good photo when the planting matures.

Paradise needs a little help. At least our vision of paradise.

And it's better than thinking about my challenges. Something is always about to bloom, and we can't wait!

Monday's blood test should have been easy. I was cool and calm even when the tech appeared and said she would have to stick me again because there was something wrong with the first sample. No problem. Back to the waiting room until a nurse appeared and said I needed to go to the treatment room. What?!?! Code for something is wrong with your blood scores. Another long wait until another nurse delivers the news that my platelets are very low. No blood transfusion today (not something I had been expecting) but I should call the office if my nose bleeds or if I suffer a cut or bruise because my blood would likely not clot.

I was just beginning to get accustomed to the routine when a new variable rises to the surface. Cancer treatment is a bit like the simulation games we used to play years ago and the leader would announce a new wrinkle that would significantly alter our strategy. A friend had asked me weeks ago about my platelets and while the number bounced around, it hadn't drawn my attention. Now it does.

No playing with sharp things. No tattoos. No flossing! Be careful! Seriously? One more thing to add to my feeling of mortality and vulnerability.

I'm certain the medical team will be watching the numbers and they have a plan for whatever complication shows up.

Just another week to breathe deeply, and be careful.