Under the Canopy
Throughout the day I rest under the canopy of trees and umbrellas in the sanctuary of my backyard. With my mortality looking me in the eyes and my surrender to this predicament I'm in, I’m left with plenty of time to muse and reminisce on just about everything.
Like how difficult is it to remember I don't have a whole lotta hair? Time after time I use the same amount of shampoo as when I had thick, long curly hair. It takes forever to rinse it out of my pitiful head of hair. As if the shampoo weren't bad enough, minutes later I use the same amount of conditioner and spend another five minutes rinsing it. When will I remember I need 98% less than I now use? I think this is what other chemo patients call "chemo brain". Fuzzy, forgetful thinking. Why didn't they tell me about that in chemo school? Shaving my head looks better each day!
As I rest, I recall all the fun times I’ve had throughout my life with family and friends. I have so many good memories from childhood on and they all bring me joy. Today I walked past an old Ford truck with a Shasta camp trailer, both antiques. I lust after them and go out of my way to walk by the house where they’re parked. The old truck and trailer remind me of high school days. There is something about a girl driving an old truck that will make heads turn. “It’s a girl, my lord, in a flatbed ford” kind of thing. Like the old white 1955 Dodge pickup driven by my friend Darlene when we were seniors in high school. We’d spend endless hours dragging main followed by all sorts of young men. Every so often the passenger door would open wide when we’d make a U turn to circle back around Main Street. It was always best to sit in the middle.
Or the times I'd come home during breaks my freshman year at CU Boulder. The first thing I'd do is take my brother Felix's burgundy 1958 Apache Chevy sidestep and drive around with girlfriends. He never seemed to mind me driving his groovy old truck. One time I came home unannounced and was driving it up a hill when the hood flew open. I pulled over to shut it when I noticed the engine didn't look right. Something was amiss, it looked empty, like a mouth missing front teeth. Oh the horror, then fear I felt when I realized there was no radiator! I coasted back down the hill as close to home as I could, then drove the rest of the way. I parked the truck, grabbed my stuff and left. My brother to this day will get a tear in his eye as he tells the story about how I burned out the engine of his beloved old Apache.
Resting and memories are a part of my days now. My mother pointed out the shadow of a heart on the umbrella and it's a perfect symbol for how well I'm doing. I haven’t been able to write for my blog because I am sick of talking about myself and cancer and chemo. Know that I am doing well. I am able to manage the side effects of chemo and tests show it is working with the tumor markers getting lower. You wouldn’t even know I am undergoing chemotherapy, I have the same bouncing off the walls, can’t sit still energy. Then I’ll have a day or two where I am so incredibly tired all I can do is rest and sleep. The main change is my ever thinning hair and now I’m losing my eyelashes. A new notion of beauty. I’m fortunate to have family and close friends stay and help out. They and Scott provide me with much emotional support and I believe that is why I am doing so well, along my fighting spirit!
I’ve passed the halfway point of chemo with 8 sessions remaining. I will continue to rest and remember under the canopy of hearts in our garden, our sanctuary. I’ll build my strength for the next chemo and for every one after that.
My Sanctuary
