Data update! I am once AGAIN a champion methotrexate-flusher.... Just sayin'.... Don't mean to brag (too much) ... but my kidneys are truly amazing. My methotrexate level was already down from 14.0 on Wednesday evening to 0.07 last night. Only 2/100ths to go until I am officially "ready to be discharged." My pH levels have also stabilized and anti-mouth sore operation 2.0 is officially underway; I am rinsing, gargling, brushing, and flossing with focus, efficiency, and passion! AND even with weeks of poor sleep, I seem to be regaining my physical strength and my cognitive / emotional mojo! Hurrah!
 |
| Megan may not fully appreciate my standing desk |
**** "Silly me Surprise" 7:30 a.m. update: I can't count! I can't read! I don't know the date! I am going home TODAY - not tomorrow! I AM SO HAPPY! Yeah, kidneys! Get my methotrexate levels down those last few ticks! *****
This morning after five hours of only slightly-interrupted sleep, I am up once again in the dark. Changing into street clothes (still a novelty here, I am repeatedly told by surprised hospital staff), I set up shop at my oh-so-nifty hospital standing desk, connect to an NPR LiveStream, check the NYT and Post headlines, dip into Megan's blogs, and then enjoy the sunrise. Sunset? Yup, very familiar time of day. Sunrise? .... Not so much.... All my enforced downtime has definitely prompted reflection down memory lanes and as I watch clouds come into clearer definition in the eastern sky, I scroll through my short inventory of sunrise memories. Yes, we had daily glorious Caribbean sunrises from our large terrace on Grand Cayman but Cayman memories are slightly tainted by the crushing onset of my migraine and my months of pain and poor function. Rather, my sunrise-seeking mind always seems to settle happily on our house rental in Pahoa on the Big Island in 2005. Joe would already be awake in the coolness of the pre-dawn, sitting up on the observation deck overlooking the crashing Pacific. Climbing up the cold spiral iron staircase, I could smell his hot coffee and see his outline in the darkness. Together we would first watch the red sun creep up above the rough seas and then turn around and appreciate the red sunshine bathing the volcanoes. Amazing Pahoa sunrises!
 |
| SUNRISE with garage, viaduct, and chemo pump reflection |
But life is all about perspective, yes? Earlier this week, I was characteristically effusive about my room's gorgeous window of sunshine when a hospital staffer apologized for my "car garage view." Huh? Say what? I couldn't quite digest this information. All I see is the huge expanse of blue sky, the elegant herons transiting their air route to / from the nearby James River, the occasional aircraft visible on its approach into Richmond, and the ever-changing stimulation and wonder of the cloudscape; the garage is simply an insignificant baseline at the extreme lower level of my window frame. I just don't SEE the garage decks..... Gotta focus on the positives - no matter the context.
 |
| A Cayman sunrise! |
Yesterday, an extraordinary new mantra entered my world: "keep calm and smile on." Isn't this the crux of good karma and making connections with the world and your community? This phrase prompts deep appreciation for my personal great luck in life, gives shape to my thoughts as I consider the grand fortune of my family's health and happiness, and informs my feelings and thoughts as I hold families who have been visited by tragedy close in my prayers and meditations.
**** Just as I finished writing, StoryCorps broadcast a beautiful piece about perspective and finding joy.
No comments:
Post a Comment