Today in the Burg, Tomorrow in Colorado

Copper Mountain (2006):  No skiing planned this trip  :(

Friday - March 29, 2013

Today was a comforting re-acquaintance with happy memories of solid carefree pre-illness days in Williamsburg:  catching up with a friend / parent from my first grade classroom, visiting the School of Ed to submit my ESL log, and running into a both a former professor (at W&M) and a colleague from my masters program (at the elementary school where I tutor).  All in all, a cheery reminder of past experiences and perhaps a promise that my growing sense of normalcy may not be a fluke.  Tomorrow I head off to Colorado for a few nights of Alzamora TLC, sisterly sharing, and - I hope! - some highly competitive games of Settlers of Catan!  Priorities ....  Hmmm ... should I bring the Catan expansion pack?

Bulking Up (the schedule)

Wednesday - March 27, 2013

I do so like being busy, involved, connected ....  After all, contributing and interacting is where I derive great meaning and contentment.  I feel most alive and happy when I am out and about doing something dynamic.  It's my "normal" and these days I am happily scrambling back into a familiar schedule.  No, it's not quite the schedule and commitment I had anticipated two years ago when finishing grad school but it's certainly not the void and isolation I had feared just 4 months ago when shackled (literally) by the constraints of stage 4 lymphoma.  At that point I was still regularly dragging my infusion pole around a hospital room with chemicals dripping into my body through the port that still very visibly protrudes beneath my skin just below my right collar bone.  At that point I anticipated an imminent allogeneic bone marrow transplant with its attendant cold statistics, prolonged hospitalizations, extended home quarantine, and reduced expectations extending into what I hoped would be a distant (but probable) future.  At that point I saw diminished prospects for a return to an elementary classroom, to work, to contribution and connection.

And yet, here I am 4 months after Dr. Ambinder advised me to "sit tight" and wait.  I am braving the sneezes and coughs of the world and building up my energy.  My schedule is happily filling out.  I am now shuttling between two elementary schools, working in math groups in the morning and with an ESLstudent in the afternoon.  I may also soon begin homebound tutoring of a fourth grader through the school system.

I am even daring to think (a bit) about the future.  Specifically, how do I search for a teaching job with this cancer gap on my resume?  Online reading suggests that a great deal of discrimination exists when it comes to hiring someone who has come through cancer treatment.  I suppose employers are concerned about job continuity and health care costs.  If I were to stay in Williamsburg, I am certain the issue would be moot given how incredibly supportive the HR team and school staffs have been.  But moving surfaces the issue.  A very visible hole in my chronology will naturally invite an inquiry.  "Medical leave" is the appropriate and legal response but does that torpedo my chances?  Ah well, I can only do what I can do.  I am revamping my resume in preparation for a Bay area job search.  Only time will tell what opportunities will arise but I am keen to work, to keep up a full schedule, a busy pace, and to find a way to contribute.

Countdown to California!

California 2004

 Friday - March 22, 2013

Well, it's official!  Joe and I are back on our "moving to San Francisco" track for a 2-3 year assignment.  True to form, I have already begun the official countdown; we have to be out of the house 14 weeks from today (on June 28).  That number is a bit of a wake-up call and we are now definitely shifting into "preparation for exit" mode.

Two very young looking children near Big Sur

Given that we were on the San Francisco track through May last year (yes, even after beginning chemo we were still debating shifting to UCSF for my treatment - CRAZY!), we have been considering house locations for well over a year.  It seems that we are narrowing on the North Bay with the thought that Joe will commute by ferry from Larkspur, Tiburon, or Sausalito and that I will work in Marin.  Next week, I will wrap up the hours needed for my ESL endorsement, the last step needed for my California teaching license.  Yes, can you believe it?  Without an ESL student in my class last year, I still am a bit short and am tremendously appreciative of an ESL teaching colleague who has arranged an observation as well as twice weekly ESL tutoring sessions for a local second grader.  I am extremely excited to be able to work in another school and to be able to assist a young student.  My overall professional goal is to be ready to interview  - California license in hand - when Joe and I go out for our house hunting trip in mid June. 

All in all, I am starting to feel very jazzed about treating ourselves to a new, beautiful locale and exploring northern California and the Pacific Northwest.  Putting a bit of physical distance from this house and its close association with my illness and my cancer treatment is also a BIG bonus.  We love the Williamsburg area and are looking forward to moving into our Kingsmill forever home and back into our current jobs in a few years.  But for now, why not shift our empty nest west and get to know another vibrant American city?  Jonathan has actually mentioned grad school in the Bay area and Megan is nearby.  Sounds great!

Of course in order for this plan to come to fruition, I still need to have clear MRI and PET scans on May 15.  And if they aren't clear?  If I relapse?  Then the move to San Francisco is off and a move back to Arlington (with its proximity to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore) is ON.  But for now, our sites are set on San Francisco, we are trolling real estate sites to check out options and areas, and I am reading up on schools in Marin.  We are thinking forward, making plans, and believing we will maintain our recent streak of good health!

Full Heart, Empty Nest

Wednesday - March 20, 2013

Megan gifted us with 14 happy weeks of company, laughter, and easy / contented routine but it is always difficult to say farewell even after such a long and restful visit.  Megan took off for Davis before dawn this morning, returning to her job, studies, friends, and independence.  Even now, after three months together, I can scarcely believe our good fortune in having had our adult child back living with us for such a prolonged period.  Of course, her visit was improved immeasurably by our change of circumstance; her intended caregiving during my bone marrow transplant transformed into much-needed healing and rest - for both of us!  Last night, Megan and I laughed about our bulging "Pipe Dream List" that scarcely saw the light of day.  Yes, she prepped a class and a conference and researched for her PhD exams while I got back on my feet in terms of gaining strength and returning to work half-days.  We traveled, baked, cooked, cleaned out, and organized but mostly we all just hung out and enjoyed each other's company.  And that's the best gift of all, made more pointed - more raw - by the health nightmare of this last year.

Our Favorite St. Patrick's Day Locale

Sunday - March 17, 2013

Knowing that Maureen Ammirati is the cheeriest person with whom to share a St. Patrick's Day celebration, Joe, Megan, two frantic hounds, and I headed north to New Hope to spend a brief weekend with our favorite Irish gal.  With the luck of the Irish smiling on us, the house proved to be a gathering place for a small Ammirati group; Teresa, Mary, Victoria, Margaret, and Drew all shared company and stories around the cozy kitchen table.  Carrot cake, lemon tart, Maureen's famous rotini and meat dinner, a mid-March snowfall, and even a demo game of Settlers of Catan.

Jonathan phoned to report that he had disembarked from his Bahamas cruise and his obvious excitement about his fabulous (warm!) spring break eased the fact of his absence on our (cold and snowy) visit up the Delaware. It was a swift but happy trip that gave Megan another chance to visit with her grandmother before they are once again separated by schedules and a continent.  All in all, a terrific way to spend a St. Patrick's Day!

Yes, I'm a Hugger ...

What perfect crisp days for walks along the fabulous York!

Thursday - March 14, 2013

... and today I was cheered to be the lucky recipient of a tight extemporaneous hug in the halls of my elementary school bestowed by a teacher I had only met in passing two weeks ago when I first arrived.  With her own short (and not colored) hair, she commented on how much she liked my ultra-short (and not colored) hair and asked whether I had always kept it short.  You know me, never holding back, so I answered that it was a product of inaction - only just growing in after an illness.
"Cancer?  Can I hug you?"
And we did.
Great conversation. Great connection.  Great long hug.

And... Megan and I enjoyed some pie on Pi day.  A lovely lovely day  :)

"Unfairly Cruel"

Wednesday - March 13, 2013

Megan has described today's news of a young friend's cancer recurrence as "unfairly cruel."  Her comments are G-rated and appropriate for blogging.  In my inner voice, my fluent and practiced traffic language / sailor mouth is phrasing my fury a tad differently.  Let me self-censor and just say that it's so wretchedly, terribly unfair!  We take heart that our friend is strong in body and spirit, surrounded and supported by loving family and friends, and living in proximity to innovative and proven research-oriented cancer centers.  Her next step may be a Bone Marrow Transplant.  Megan's fundraising efforts for Be the Match loom ever more important - and personal. 

A Question of Verb Tense & Fundraising!

Monday - March 11, 2013

In the easy companionship that has marked Megan's three months at home, we have recently found ourselves cozily ensconced on our denim couches blogging away on our computers, offering different perspectives on cancer awkwardness as well as the question of verb tense.  Verb tense is  a topic that we've batted around a bit at home and an issue that arises naturally in conversation.  What should I say?  "I have cancer" or "I had cancer"?  I always use present tense.  Technically, I have been in Complete Response with No Evidence of Disease since July BUT I do not presume in any way to think in the past tense.  Not because I am feeling ill or even because I fear or have a feeling that I will relapse, it's just that lymphoma remains firmly in the picture.  Cancer has rearranged my self-perspective and indelibly imprinted on my identity... and I am totally okay with it.  I feel completely blessed to have had appropriately aggressive treatment, reflective and cautious decision-making regarding a Bone Marrow Transplant, and continuously caring support from family and friends. Somehow, my choice of verb tense keeps this sense of appreciation vivid and foremost in my mind.  "One of the easiest ways of slaying the cancer stigma is by opening up and sharing our personal experiences. With understanding comes acceptance." Using past tense may indicate not only a foolhardy sense of optimism but also a perpetuation of the cancer stigma.

And a note from a proud mom:  Megan and Jonathan are both keeping cancer in the headlights rather than in the rear view mirror by remaining active in cancer fundraising.  Jonathan is once again working on Virginia Tech's Relay for Life (details to follow!) and Megan will be running in an April "Be the Match" fundraiser in San Jose. 

The Limits of Memory

Saturday - March 9, 2013

Megan, the hounds, and I are holding down the fort while Jonathan is away on a spring break cruise to the Bahamas and Joe is away on business travel.  With Joe once more away on one of his rare trips, I am reflecting on his other trips during my illness and trying to remember how I filled those days.  Carolyn was here for two of those weeks including last May when my long-lasting medical mystery was finally determined to be lymphoma.  But many of the specifics of these last months are so foggy, amorphous, and muddled in detail.  How is it that I can remember birthdays of former students from years ago but cannot recall details from the last year?  Chemo brain, fatigue, age, self-protection, or just plain flightiness?

Today on the other hand was highly memorable for its beauty and company.  A crystal clear, blue-sky, almost-spring day that was a lovely backdrop to a mother-daughter lunch with Gina and Meredith on DoG Street, a library outing, a phenomenal dog walk along the York, and a bit of a "Homeland" marathon.  A picture-perfect and relaxing day with our beautiful girl  :)

Random Community Cancer Conversations are GOOD!

Friday - March 8, 2013

Joseph's 52nd birthday!  My phrase for the day?  "He's now playing with a full deck."  Gotta love "52."  Phrase to be repeated once again ad nauseum on June 21 when I elevate to "full deck" status.

So ... for the second time in a week, I had the welcome event of a completely out-of-the-blue cancer conversation with a passing acquaintance.  Last week at the library, the circulation clerk recognized / remembered my library card and my name from JUNE when Carolyn spoke to her about waiving my library fines on two books that I left behind in my classroom when I was swept into that all-encompassing and enervating whirlwind of lymphoma ... and chemo ... and hospitalizations....  Anyway, after confirming that I was indeed the stage 4 lymphoma patient who had racked up major overdue status on two eagle books (her memory for irrelevant details matches mine!), she asked how I was doing.  Genuinely.  With interest.  With eye contact.  With follow up questions.

Now, today, a teacher stopped by my room to introduce herself, heard my quick "had to stop working late last year due to health reasons," followed up with "was it cancer?" then asked details about current stamina and health, past treatment and challenges, and proceeded to share her knowledge of lymphoma, cancer, and recoveries.  Wow.  True connection.  Clear communication.  No dancing around an enormous elephant in the room.  Thank you!   Thank you!

Believe me when I relate that this direct inquiry and discussion is somewhat unusual.  After all, cancer can be very very awkward and is often a topic to be avoided.  Not by my sisters or close friends (as evidenced by my recent swift swing through Arlington with its candid conversations and sharing) but this avoidance sometimes wedges itself into an encounter like that proverbial pachyderm crowding us into the corners.  Even when reconnecting with intimates who I haven't seen in more than a year but who know full well what has been going on!  Megan has encountered a similar disconnect / radio silence on anything cancer and it does seem to be a common topic of cancer blogs and articles.  It's just truly weird.  Awkward.  Understandable perhaps but silly.  If a library clerk and someone I just met at work can talk about my lymphoma, how hard can it be? 

A Silver Lining

Saturday - March 2, 2013

Life is easing back into a (tentative) state of order and calm.  Daily phone calls from Jonathan anchor my day, Joe and the dogs ground the homefront, and I am recarving some contribution in the community.  My half-day work schedule is just enough as I steadily rebuild my stamina.  While I am of course planning like the perfectionist / compulsive / "triple A" (to co-opt a pejorative) that I admit to being, I welcome this immersion back into education and recognize that a reduced schedule is an appropriate avenue to get back on my feet and into full-time mode.  The staff at my school are terrific -- sharing ideas and resources and welcoming me into their classrooms.  My nineteen students are of course a delight!  They have all been open to our small group work and are uniformly eager (so far) for all of our hands-on math work and reinforcement.  Even my fifth graders have been engaged with our rolling back a bit and reinforcing number sense through ten frames and manipulatives.  The days fly by when you are enjoying math learning centers! 

Visiting Jonathan last week in Blaxksburg!

Megan and I enjoy some morning time before I head off to work and then have some afternoon time before dinner to walk the hounds and hang out.  Having Megan home for 3 months is an absolute treat.  I confess to feeling a certain degree of guilt ... about being well!  Completely crazy but absolutely true!  After all, Megan came east to care for me during my now-cancelled (or postponed if I relapse) Bone Marrow Transplant.  She gave up her work, studies, friends, and independent living to return to her parental home to take care of me.  All of us are relieved that she isn't holing up in my hospital room and her rented hospitality suite in Baltimore (or Richmond).  Instead, she is working on her research, prepping for an upcoming run, and just hanging out with hounds and family.  One year ago, I never could have anticipated so much time with our adult Megan and yet here she is, cozily ensconced on the denim couches, studying her texts, and cuddling with two needy Italian Greyhounds (and us!).  Megan's three months with us are a silver lining to my lymphoma. I am so so happy to have her home!