Healing

The cancer medical teams at least try to be nice. I mean, they give you time to heal up before they do their best to make you sick again. That's something, right?

I talked to my radiation oncologist this morning. I will get another month to heal before they begin zapping my chest. 16 sessions, I will have.

I am more than a bit apprehensive, but.

She said, without radiation, the chances of my cancer recurring again within a few years are 20 - 25%. (Yikes!) With it, those chances drop to under 5%. I like those odds a lot better, so I'll face down my fears and show up when the time comes.

In the meantime. Here I am. Waiting. My favorite part.

I seem to have fallen off the path of "Not Yet" in the chaos of the past few weeks. Which makes sense, because Yet came. But it also went, and I'm ready to find my way back to Not Yet until the next thing starts.

I feel fine, physically. I was cleared for exercise last week, and movement has begun to work its magic. I'm sleeping better and my creaking joints are thinking about realigning themselves. Give it another week, and I'll be good as new.

Mental recovery has proven to be a bit more of a challenge. I find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop. (Another shoe? The Being of the Universe in charge of dropping shoes to disrupt people's lives clearly isn't just grabbing the shoes off their feet, because I've had more than two shoes drop on my head in quick succession here. Maybe they are just kneeling in their closet, tossing the pairs that no longer spark joy over their shoulders? Maybe they have more than two feet?)

I digress.

Tomorrow will get here soon enough.

Time to get back to reveling in the gift which is today.