The letting go of things...

It's surprising what you can live without. As I plough on, things have fallen by the wayside. At first, it was hard not to have hair. Now I have lost my eyelashes, my lids are often swollen and I have dark circles and grayish skin. Yet I go out and don't bother with makeup. Gone are the headscarves, in favor of easy hats, which I take off when hot. I simply don't care much how I look these days. I feel almost invisible, or as if I am traveling in a parallel universe, in which the people I interact with are playing a game I have opted out of temporarily. The caring is something I used to have that I've let fall out of my pocket somewhere. Maybe I'll pick it up again some time. Maybe not.

My new face in the mirror is now familiar and the woman who used to look back at me seems very far away. I wonder if she will reappear, or perhaps a third person, with curly hair (that happens sometimes), with the gray I used to color (but won't be able to when when it's very short)' older and more careworn than she who entered this gauntlet? Or maybe the filter behind the eyes is so changed that I will never again see myself the same way, even if I look the same to everyone else. My immortality has dropped away. The unenchanted princess who looks back at me, with amused and knowing eyes, is the companion of my remaining years. She is okay. I like her just fine.

I had a chest X-ray today to make sure I have bronchitis and not pneumonia, and they saw that my mediport has migrated. The end that snakes through my vein has moved. Apparently this happens, particularly with younger patients. Who knows why? So, they tell me we will try to use it anyway for my last two treatments. Tomorrow we shall have the fun of seeing whether it works. I think this actually happened a while back. During my final A-C chemo treatment, we had a blood return problem. The only way we could get a return was for me to take a deep breath, let it out and repeat with my head turned to the side. If that works tomorrow, we're okay. If not, it's back to the poor, scarred veins in my arms and hands for the chemo IV. Wish me luck.

So here is another thing I've let go of. Not, long ago, this would have upset me quite a bit. I would have worried that there was something I should've done to avoid this problem. And I would be very worried right now about maybe ending up with an IV tomorrow (after 3-4 tries, perhaps). I think what I've let go of is the idea that there is some way it is "supposed" to go tomorrow and I can somehow do something about it. Now I tell myself it will be fine, will go smoothly, and then let it be what is. I'm just too damned tired to worry about it.

Last night, Steve and I got to reminiscing. I was remembering my childhood and I suddenly said "My God, I have a wonderful life!" I am really having a fabulous life. Most of the problems I've had have been in my own mind. So today, bronchitis and all, I am grateful. I am thinking of all my friends at ActionCOACH conference without me and I miss them and laugh thinking of the fun I've had with them. I think of my family, my childhood and college friends. I know wonderful people, have heard and performed great music, acted in great plays, made art, enjoyed art, made love, been loved, seen so many cities and gorgeous places, read so many books, eaten such good food.

And I have mattered to people. I have done a little bit of good in a lot of places, made people laugh, opened their eyes to new ideas, made them a bit more thoughtful, a bit more compassionate, a bit more sensible, I hope. And I'll continue to do so. I look forward to getting my strength back. My work is to help organizations bring out the best in people. There is much to be done. Looking forward to being back, stronger than ever!