Today's a double-headed anniversary: I started chemo and this blog one year ago today.
On August 30, 2010, there was so much I didn't know, and I feared that unknown. I didn't know how chemo was going to affect me, and whether it would even "work." I worried about how to keep up with my job after clearing my calendar for a month. But by the second week of chemo, taking a shower or walking into the kitchen had become major accomplishments, and surprisingly, nothing else mattered.
Then into the fall I became proficient at reading blood test reports and picked up such catchy phrases to throw around as “heavy chain class switching," "epigenetic modifiers," and "proteasome inhibitors." Into the winter I alternated between convincing myself and others that I was better, while becoming increasingly frustrated at what I still didn't know and couldn't seem to find out. Into the spring I had to face some harsh realities that the three protocols I've had and am having are all that there is "to do," and that they had just better work. Into the summer, I have been able to feel much more optimistic about my long-term prognosis, and in these waning summer days, still surprise myself each time I look in the mirror and see my chemo-permed hair.
When life pushes you into doing those things which you know you better get around to doing before it's too late, some unexpected things happen. One more thing, I didn't plan it this way, but this blog has become a way for me to tell the stories that might otherwise get lost -- my personal history in short bursts. I appreciate the encouragement I've gotten to keep up the writing beyond medical updates.
So let's see what happens this next year. If I've given up on anything, it's trying to predict the future. Thank you for all of your kind support in my yesterdays, and for sharing my today.