Today is my one year anniversary from the end of chemotherapy. I only remembered because I was thinking about my hair this morning in the shower. Laura took a picture of me (with Oaks) yesterday and I was surprised, again, at how little shows up in a straight on photograph. It’s not that it looks thin or wispy, just that not much of it shows up that way. If you do a back view, it’s much easier to see how much wild hair there is. It still drives me a bit crazy, in that growing-out-in-between stage, but I am grateful for the color, the curls, and the convenience for now. Shampoo, product, finger comb, done.

I also am grateful for how well I feel, which is to say, pretty normal. I never really experienced radiation fatigue (a blessing) and my energy levels feel pretty much back to normal. I’m working three days a week, enjoying my grandsons, taking short trips, keeping up (mostly) with the yard and (a little less so) with the house. I’d like someone to throw an extra day into each week because every one of them seems to fly by, but overall, life is good.

More than a few of my projects have been derailed this summer. I still haven’t made it to Chicago for my Swedish genealogy. I finally started a quilt for Lizi’s new apartment and still haven’t figured out Oaks’ birth quilt. Anne & James’ wedding quilt top is done, but no further towards completion. My upstairs “sanctuary” is still an unorganized work-in-progress and I never got started on my plans to paint the back “sun” room. I also never got back to the Wellness Center after three or four exercise classes in May or June.

 

 

 

 

 

(The World’s Shortest Doctor; Oaks & Gramma; Photo Booth Silliness)

Last summer cancer put the rest of my life on hold and this summer it feels like the rest of my life put the cancer on hold. Last summer was slow and listless; this summer was quick and quirky. I think it mostly had to do with the Epic learning curve at work–long days of intense concentration. A new baby in the family and an active, fun 3-1/2 year old (and a tired mama) have added to the mix, as well as Lizi’s move, and Johnny’s hockey schedule. Cancer has danced around at the back of my mind, but hasn’t been allowed much more than that. I guess that is a good thing.

Hope and cancer? I just hope it goes away and never comes back. For me, and for so many others out there struggling with the whole process.  For now, I like the words of Psalms 27:13 and 116:9–

The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?…

I am still confident of this–

I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord;

be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

 

Be at rest once more, O my soul,

for the Lord has been good to you.

For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling.

that I may walk before the Lord in the land of the living.