happy trails

It is said that a good artist knows when to stop painting. I hope I am a good writer. I have loved doing these blogs but I'm sure you have noticed that the postings have been fewer and farther between. I wish I could say that I have so much more to say, but the truth is I don't. My radiation treatment is coming to an end sometime next week. The treatments themselves have been uneventful and predictable. The only thing that changes is that once in a while I go in at a different time than the normal 4:15. Andy, Becca and Mary have driven me to the appointments and I am very grateful for that. It is good to have a companion to share these (dare I say boring) experiences. Today I nodded off when they took a little extra time with their measurements.
So, I think this is a wise thing for me to do now. Perhaps I will add another post or two when Mardie's Walnut Creek Marathon draws near, but for now dear friends I will just say au revoir.

And we are off!

After much procrastination on my part Mardie's Marathon website, www.mardiesmarathon.com is updated and looking good. My thanks go to my sister Kathy, who spent much of two or three days this week posting and tweeking things. I can't thank her enough for doing this for us. It is a major undertaking, just making the website work for us and she did it without a single complaint. I have also printed out a bunch of letters of solicitation that are directed at vendors and merchants, in the hope that someone or some "many" will offer to pay for the lovely medals that are awarded to the people who participate in Mardie's Marathon. Last year, a group of teachers from Buena Vista School, my old school, paid for the medals. It was such a wonderful thing for them to do. I'm just hoping that someone, somewhere will take it up this year. I am pretty sure we are going to have more participants and I don't want anyone to be disappointed. If they do the run/walk, they should get a medal.
So now, be prepared. I have my Dear Friend letter ready to go and I will be emailing it to most of you. Some people will get them by snail mail but they probably won't be people reading this, come to think of it! If you can read this, I've probably got your email address somewhere!
Last night we attended a lovely Midsummer Night's Party at Mary's. It was wonderful with interesting people, delicious barbequed beef prepared by Chef Scott. Mary and her piano teacher seranaded us. I sat in the music room and listened to them playing four hands on two pianos and was I suddenly transported to Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. It was magical. I expected wigged servants to come in bearing sherry laden trays. Except that the music was so delightful there was no wicked and witty conversation going on. We were all entranced.
So, tomorrow I go back to work. I hope I can remember how to do everything. If not, I'll just call Liz and she can retrain me! I've read about a bunch of books this week and more over the course of the summer so I feel prepared for class visits. Fortunately, school doesn't start for another week and a half. I'll have another bunch of books read by then. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone, students and teachers. It should be a good year!

Radiation

While I have gone over the routine of the radiation therapy, I don't think I have talked about the really nice people over at the cancer center at John Muir in Concord. I just want to mention this because I see them every day and routine is just that. Routine. They always thank me for my patience and I always express my gratitude for their being there. And we never miss an opportunity to joke with one another. The seriousness of their task demands a bit of levity from time to time and I enjoy it. As they draw on the spot that is to receive the radiation they talk about their frustrated creative energies. As they leave the room to start the treatment I tell them to go on out but I'll just stay there. They are just short silly comments but we enjoy the repartee. And then there is the guy I see every day who has his treatment just before me. We always smile, nod and sometimes we make smart remarks. I don't even know his name but I feel like we are treatment friends. I'm two weeks into the treatments and what I feared hasn't happened yet. I'm not tired of this. I look forward to it. It gives me comfort knowing that the battle is still being waged on my behalf. Only three more weeks and all I'll have to look forward to are my chemo light treatments every 21 days. I guess I shouldn't complain. That is the goal after all. Wellness and no treatments. I think I have become accustomed to this little cocoon of cancer therapy. I like people fussing over me and making me feel comfortable. Once I'm over the radiation I'll be pretty much back in the real world. Chemo light is like getting a prolonged backwards blood test. Not much to it and you aren't there long enough to really talk to anyone. But I won't complain. I'm hoping it will mean I can get back to the things I really love doing. Like running. And Mardie's Walnut Creek Marathon is coming up soon!

Gosh, I hate to complain, but here I go. I talked to an acquaintance on the phone today. I haven't spoken to her in at least a year. She went on and on about how she knew exactly how I was feeling because she went through the same thing a few years ago. I beg to differ: she had a biopsy and it was negative. I had a biopsy and it was positive. She had fits of crying and despair. I didn't. The similarity of our experiences went from almost, to not at all. And then she went on to tell me about what happened to other friends of hers. You know what? I think I've said this before but I'll say it again. I'm not interested. If they had happy outcomes, great! If they didn't I don't want to know about it. It just seems like people delight in the, Oh my gosh, how terrible, how horrible, isn't that awful, of people's lives. Frankly, I am more interested in the how wonderful, how exciting, how delightful of life. This doesn't mean I don't acknowledge that there is a lot of grief, despair and unhappiness out there. And poverty and crime and all those awful things. But I don't see how the tragedy of one person's life is going to help me get over my adventure. And I will continue to call it my adventure. Nothing awful has happened. I've met a lot of very nice, very kind, very caring people. And I've become a correspondent with many other kind and compassionate people. But please spare me the sad stories about someone else's cancer that ended in their dying. Don't go there. I'm not listening.