The early morning rain woke me up. The rain gauge contains .2 inch. Not much, but enough to soak the grass seed in the front lawn near Judy's newly modified flower garden. Ginger, the ginger cat, has transformed since the disappearance last summer of her sibling, and craves constant attention as soon as we are awake. This past week has been an emotional challenge. Good news from tests did not prevent blue days. Don't know why. Cancer literature notes that emotional downturns are typical. The physical challenges of cancer treatment are sufficient without the addition of blue days. Healing is a slow process. Slower than I prefer.

Radiation treatments begin tomorrow. Judy has re-marked the registration guide marks on my body several times. Physical reminders of the process for the next three weeks. My strength has not returned. I am impatient. But I am closer to the end of cancer treatment than to the beginning. Just a few more weeks.

It rained yesterday. The forecast was for a few tenths of an inch. But between 1:30pm and 4:30pm, it rained a lot. 1.4 inches of rain.

And for some reason, as I watched the rain in my backyard, an old gospel hymn came to mind "Showers of Blessing." I looked through my collection of old hymnbooks and songbooks to find it. As I gazed at the page and sang to myself, I realized the words were deeply planted in my memory and spirit.

"There shall be showers of blessing:" This is the promise of love; There shall be seasons refreshing, Sent from the Saviour above.

And the chorus goes, Showers of blessing, Showers of blessing we need: Mercy drops round us are falling, But for the showers we plead.

And off I went on another internet excursion to see if there was a story behind the song. I didn't find that story but what was curious was who wrote the lyrics. Wikipedia noted that the lyricist was Daniel Webster. "The" Daniel Webster? No. Wikipedia is wrong! That's a whole other issue. Daniel Webster Whittle wrote hymns under several pseudonyms, which leaves me wondering why he would do that.  Again, I am wandering in the weeds.

My first reflection, though, was about showers of blessings, and how we long for the abundance of being soaked. With hope and joy and grace and peace and healing. 

Purple hints of the future. 

I continue to ponder. meditate, ruminate (now there's an old word) on the days beyond the end of treatment. Four weeks from today should be my last radiation treatment and then about two weeks later I'll see Dr. Thompson again as a follow up to all of these months of treatment for lymphoma. That office visit will be far different from the one last March. That first visit was more than scary with so much I didn't know or understand.

Now I'm closer to the conclusion than to the beginning. The cancer appears to be healed, cured.

This dahlia bud is just beginning to unfold and will soon be full of purple like the one behind it. Even though it's just beginning, one can see the hint of purple. I'm seeing the hint of something far different after cancer. I'm going to continue to ponder and meditate and ruminate until I see it.

It's been four weeks since the last chemotherapy treatment and it's another 9 days until radiation treatments begin. Today, I certainly feel caught in time between chemo and radiation. I don't know if that contributed to my blue day or not. I felt emotionally and physically exhausted. Judy and I walked down to Concord Road and back, so I got to climb the ridge twice. I cannot keep up with her. I have to climb slowly, and catch my breath. I do feel like my energy is slowly returning, just not as quickly as I would like. I'm ready but me body is not.

Last Friday I had my radiation simulation, and now I have a black cross marked on my chest and a line below my navel and one on my sternum and a cross under each arm. An x-ray will be taken as I begin each session so that the doctor and technicians can confirm that I am in the same exact position for each treatment. The treatments begin July 14, so I won't finish in July, and the final treatments will be in August.

The cancer treatments began four months ago and I still have another month of treatments. A new phase will begin soon, but for now I'm in between.

The magnolia trees are blooming again. Actually, the trees have continued to bloom since open blossoms first appeared more than a month ago. However, it does seem like there are bloom cycles when there are an abundance of blooms and this one is evidently the peak of one of those bloom cycles. I have shared my visual fascination with magnolia blooms previously. My eye is caught by the image after the bloom has faded and the petals will soon fall to the ground.

This blossom is far past its blooming peak and assumed a unique configuration. If you use your imagination, or just squint, possibly you can see the figure of a person. I notice that by squinting you are throwing away information that your eye can see when its fully open. Isn't it the same when you are ready to fall asleep? It's interesting to me that by discarding information, truth, we can see something that isn't there and make false conclusions. They may be entertaining fantasies, but it's not real.

For the last four months, I have been "mostly good." After all, I was experiencing chemo and all its side effects. I was fighting lymphoma, with the help of doctors and many encouragers. But yesterday morning as I made my first one mile walking trip in "I don't know how long" my cell phone rang. It was Dr. Lewis, the same physician who told me four months ago that I had cancer, asked me how I was. "I am good." Yes, you are, he said, all good. Your pathology report shows no lymphoma nor any bacterial infections. Wow! All good! The cancer is gone from my stomach.

This good news is still sinking in. A diagnosis of cancer is a shock to any of us. I received that diagnosis twice within nine months. The cancers were unrelated. The first treatment I chose was surgery, which was over in a few hours and required an overnight stay in the hospital. But this second one has been more challenging. I still have three weeks of radiation to complete, but here in the middle of the process I have already received my prognosis. All good. 

When I first started my website 14 years ago, I chose the tagline "It's all good" as an affirmation of God's creation as written in Genesis. I hadn't expected its personal impact as an affirmation of my healing. All good. Yes.

When this is all over, she's more than ready for us to travel!

This photo was taken in October 2018 at Steamtown, in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Great place to visit, even in the pouring rain! 

We have friends that left yesterday on The Empire Builder, and that sparked a discussion at our dinner table about how Judy would like to take a cross-country train trip. Well, I would too. And then we began to imagine what that could be like. And where we could stay and what we could see.

Autumn is wide open for travel or visitors here at The Hideaway. Actually, family/friends/visitors/guests are welcome anytime!

If you can catch us at home, after this is all over!

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!