I just read this paragraph written by a 17 year Stage 4 breast cancer survivor:
"One thing I don’t ever think to say: When I was told I had a year or two, I didn’t want anything one might expect: no blow-out trip to the Galápagos, no perfect meal at Alain Ducasse, no defiant red Maserati. All I wanted was ordinary life back, for ordinary life, it became utterly clear, is more valuable than anything else."Ordinary Life, Ordinary Courage, ordinary days - are extraordinary now that we have cancer in the family.
Our days are filled with appointments, blood tests, visits to the dermatologist, runs to the pharmacy, catheter flushing, episodes of sheer unadulterated fatigue, parking garages, dinner/schedule negotiations, thermometer checks, phone calls, bandage changes, jokes about the sea of lasagna that exists in our freezer.
I guess this is our new ordinary - at least for now. There are days I long for our comfortable steady routine and our sights are focused on the Fall for that - all the while, trying to find the gifts in this time - because you and I know there are plenty. They are becoming apparent - the overwhelming response to a group email I sent from "Lotsa Helping Hands" for meals twice a week. Who knew we had so many generous wonderful friends? The surprising strength and wisdom from our children - "you know mom, I miss the old dad - but he's gonna be OK and we are gonna be OK". The new-found admiration I have for my husband. He is Strong. Unbelievably so.
So, these days, I am grateful for a somewhat ordinary day like yesterday. Both of us talking about work, sex reinstated, jokes made, scouts and ballet and homework getting done.
Chemo is over - Radiation starts today - daily for 7 weeks. I am sure a new normal will be established.
I welcome it.