Lighter mood today

Today is a brilliant and beautiful day.  Sunshine, warmth and flowers fill my view.  Today I went to have my port flushed (the port is like a permanent IV access point on my chest wall).  It felt good to be able to wait in the lab waiting room and not be totally anxious and fearful.  I was relaxed with the half hour wait, watching others, wondering about their stories.  I saw people prepping for chemo, some not.  Some were anxious and upset about the wait, others quiet and motionless.

I met with the social worker afterwards so that she could help me with some much needed paperwork.  The one thing that will ring true for all people with cancer is that managing your cancer is a "job" indeed.  I have invested a lot of time and energy into organizing and keeping up with invoices and insurance statements as well as documenting all events associated with my illness.  When chemo has it's claws in you, it is a real challenge to find the energy to open the mail, believe me.

So anyway, the social worker was very nice and she plans to help me as much as she can.  I made an extra effort to thank her again and tell her that the cancer center's staff are angels, just pure angels. 

Chemo really puts you in a deep fog and takes your soul away, your energy, your spirit seem to all disappear.  I am not fully back together but feel so much better. 

A few weeks ago I received a handmade "get well" card from some children that attend my church's school.  I purchased a thank you card today.  I feel bad that I hadn't sent it yet, but the truth is that sometimes the smallest responsibilities and activities have at times felt like trying to run in quicksand.  I want them to know how much I have appreciated their kindness.

I also borrowed a book from the cancer center library that talks about how diet and exercise can help prevent breast cancer.  I figure that since I need to eat healthy and exercise anyway, I just as well follow a useful program.  Unfortunately there looms a doubt that I will live to see any breast cancer because my chances of an ovarian cancer relapse exceed the risk of BC.  Not to be a downer, it's just my reality.  As a matter of fact, as my body heals more, it seems that I am a wee bit more able to deal with "odds" and "risks".

Only God knows when we die.  I really believe that I am here for a specific purpose.  God has saved me so many times before.  I am feeling the urge to really tap into and exercise this unknown talent, and use it.  It will come and it will happen.

For today is a bit better than yesterday and who knows how tomorrow will go.  Here's to that tomorrow will be.