Everything. A postcard I received yesterday. Me, with my dear friend Wendy. What do I love? Well, Wendy, first of all. Then maybe the fact that I was in California, visiting Wendy and her partner Cristina, who took the photo. Yes, two of my closest friends and something I once took for granted—the ability to travel.
In this moment Wendy and I are hugging. I am kissing her. No masks. Plus, I have hair. A wealth of hair. And optimism. I was healthier then. Still cruising on lorlatinib; possibly even imagining that I had been cured.
Lots to love here. Much to hope that we can revisit.
Still dealing with those darn mouth sores and the radiologist’s interpretation of my latest scan would seem to indicate stability (not the word used—rather ‘unchanged’). This is going to be a tough call–glad I have another week to heal and ponder whether I shall go for another infusion.
My date was fun and fine. Hard to say if there will be a second. Truth is, my cancer is easier for others to accept when I don’t look or act like I have cancer. The empirical evidence is that I have been ghosted (for those not privy to the parlance of online dating—when communication stops abruptly) on a rather frequent basis lately after talking and meeting both–and that did not happen previously. Bit of a hit to my ego but I am also a realist—I do get it.
However, (and this is important) I think I am falling in love with my own life again.
Yup. I now feel as if I walked through some deep and depressing valley for weeks on end. No fun, that, However, I also understood that the deprivation of human contact combined with extreme discomfort might allow for some personal growth. Sort of a back to the basics deep soul search.
I have been learning a lot about myself in isolation. Not all pretty but again, that is where I have the most potential for needed improvement. Facing my demons sort of thing. Depression, procrastination, a tendency to burrow in rather than reaching out. I am working on all of this. Slowly, but surely.
When I got up this morning I felt something akin to motivation. It’s been a long time. Rather than heading back to bed, I have been getting things done. Writing, paying bills, talking to a reporter. Not bad for one morning. This afternoon I am heading to my studio. On Sunday my friend Jim and my son Peter are going to assist me in clearing out a storage unit with the rest of my art stuff. By next week I hope to have a regular schedule established—writing in the morning, art in the afternoon. Oh yeah, and it’s time to start exercising again as well.
The pandemic has imposed limitations but I am figuring out a way to work within them. My next goal is to reestablish a relationship with my old friends Hope and Joy.