Blackouts, Cards and Gifts

A Hero never knows what lurks around the next corner. It could be a monster he needs to defeat or a kind stranger offering refreshment. It could be a bend in the road which leads to a dark cave through which he must pass.

I faced a dark cave today and a stranger offering refreshment.

This morning was my appointment with my radiologist. Radiology is months away, but the Cancer Center is making sure I understand each step of the journey.

The Cancer Center, while not the place I want to be, really tries to put a positive spin on everything. I got there this morning and there were volunteer women serving tea and coffee as well as an array of snacks. I opted for the cheese and crackers; I was feeling peckish already even though I did eat breakfast. Today there was no nausea (yeah!).

While I was waiting for my appointment the hospital was suddenly plunged into darkness. Not even the emergency lighting came on. The Cancer Center is in the middle of the building. There are no windows. We were all in complete darkness.

Fortunately I had my trusty ForeignExchange trade show giveaway penlight, which happens to be a permanent fixture on my keychain. I dug it out of my pocket in no time and continued to flip through my magazine while the woman next to me was vowing she was going to pick up a light of her own. Meanwhile the staff looked for flashlights with working batteries. It stayed dark for a good 10 minutes before power was restored. The Radiology nurse I met with later told me she's been working at the hospital for over 20 years and has never seen anything like that happen.

As with the other appointments I met first with the nurse, than a resident and then the doctor himself. Dr. Rutledge confirmed I will be having five weeks of radiation, five days a week, when the time comes. My next appointment will be about 40 minutes and will include a CAT scan to determine the best approach. I'll be permanently tattooed (I always wanted one!) so the radiology technician will know exactly where to aim.

Dr. Rutledge says stretching the treatment over five weeks and using a less intense setting each time will make it easier when it is time for reconstructive surgery.

He was very interested in how I was coping with everything from a mental point of view. I told him I was staying positive, looking forward to spring, and blogging. I also let him know I'm in it for the long haul, that longevity runs in my family and that I plan to be around for the next 60 or 70 years. He said that was good to know -- he had only planned on going with the 50-year plan.

I had lunch with Paul. A thoroughly enjoyable hour. Thanks again Paul, next time it's my treat.

I'm making more of an effort to set specific times to do things with people instead of saying "hey let's get together for coffee" and never getting around to it.

I stopped for mail on my way home. Glenda sent a lovely card, letting me know she is thinking of me. There was also a card for a package. I couldn't imagine what it could be; the book Rob ordered already arrived. I drove up to the postal outlet where they handed over a large rectangular box. I could hardly wait to get home.

Kelly and Marion ordered a wellness basket for me. It's full of goodies including: tea, a sleeping cap, motivational words, nausea drops, lip balm and fuzzy socks. It is all packaged up in a sturdy, pink cloth-covered basket. You two are far too generous and kind. I so appreciate everything you've done for me during this journey.

I curled up and watched a little TV, napped a little and then made homemade macaroni and cheese for supper. Very rich and garlicky (Kelly, it had peas in it, but I think you would have liked it). Rob and I walked the dogs to the end of the street and back; the wind is very cold tonight.

He also beat me at Wii bowling. I guess I'll have to practice during the day the while he's at work.

Nothing on tap for tomorrow. Should be a quiet day. I guess its time to start developing a routine.