Good News

This week brought good news of my cancer marker numbers continuing to fall--at a faster clip than three weeks ago--and of my red blood cell count actually going up--to the doctor's surprise. I credit that to the 4 liver capsules I swallow every day on my naturopath's recommendation. Or maybe it's my daily visualizing a fleet of mini Mini Coopers racing through my bones, stirring up the marrow.

After six treatments, whose cumulative effects are often harsh, I'm still doing well, with more energy than I had back at the beginning. In fact, I have gotten off my duff and returned to exercising. I've added back in one aerobics class a week and one Zumba dance class. The dance class is an energetic blend of latin dances, belly dancing and African moves. I love it and feel proud I haven't had to be carried out on a stretcher yet. In my alternate life I've always been a dancer and an ice skater--something you would not want to witness in real life with a full bladder.

The days fly by. Only rarely do I consider that they may be part of a finite number predicted by cancer statistics. Most days are ordinary in their sweetness. I've started a gratitude notebook, one or two things I especially appreciate any given day. But we try not to make every day so precious that it reminds us continually of mortality. Yesterday Jeff and I were happy enough to be mundanely employed in mopping floors--me--and cleaning the wood ones on hands and knees--Jeff.

The three things I've had to get comfortable with in dealing with cancer are the idea of dying, the idea of living, and the fact I don't know which reality will prevail. My trusty oncology nurse, whose own husband is a colon cancer survivor, says you have to look at cancer like a chronic disease. Like high blood pressure it may always be with you, you have to manage it and you get on with your life.

Love to you all.

Diane, who's getting on with her life