Group-oriented Heroes

There are many varieties of Hero -- willing and unwilling heroes, anti-heroes, loner heroes and group-oriented heroes. Prior to this journey, had I classified myself, I would have slipped my name under the heading of loner hero.

As the days pass, I realize I am much more of a group-oriented hero than I ever imagined.

Group-oriented heroes are part of a society at the beginning of the story, and their journey takes them to an unknown land far from home. When we first meet them, they are part of a tribe, village, town or family. Their story is one of separation from the group. Their adventure takes them away from the group and the final act is their emergence from the wilderness and reintegration with the group.

Yesterday was my separation from my "family". It was my final day at the office and a painful severing from the group.

I decided at the outset of my illness that I was not willing to divide my energies between work and getting well. It's weird, you know those tests where you fill out one page ticking off the boxes about how you see yourself and you flip it over and tick off the boxes about how others see you? I always have problems with that exercise. I know how I hope others see me, but I was never really sure. Until yesterday.

I am part of a big, loud, noisy, loving family. From our matriarch down I've had nothing but support, kind words and love.

I walked into the office and all the people on my team were wearing pink ribbons over their hearts. Lunch was a potluck to wish me well. In addition they had created a basket of goodies especially designed to help me during this transition and to meet the various needs I'll have along my journey -- creams, sleep spay, uplifting shower gel, warm and fuzzy socks, a movie pass, a Pretty Woman DVD, green tea, worry beads (made by my dear friend Robyn) and a bag of healing crystals were among the treasures.

At the managers' meeting later in the day Debby presented me with a beautiful Willow Tree sculpture titled, appropriately enough, "Heart and Soul". Looking around the circle there were definitely tears in the eyes of some. It truly moves me to see these physical demonstrations of the impact I've had on this group.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with colleagues dropping by my cubicle, emails and a few phone calls. Walking out the doors of the center for the last time in what could be a long time may have been the hardest step on this journey yet. I know I'll be back but the intervening months stretch before me, not behind.

Good news arrived yesterday from a Mentor. The morning began with a CAT scan at 8:15 and by 11 my oncologist called to tell me both the CAT scan and the bone scan from last week were clear. This is very good news and means the cancer has not spread to any other location in my body.

I ended the day visiting my cousin, who is on a journey of her own. Her husband had a quintuple bypass on Tuesday and is in one of the hospitals in the city. He has had many challenges of his own, including allergic reactions and long surgeries. She has barely left the building for days. I stopped by last night and kept her company for a few hours and I'll go over this afternoon as well.

Rob's dad is doing much better. He walked to the bathroom yesterday, did a little physio and ate a Big Mac. Having Eileen near and the constant prayer from family and friends seems to be helping. I'm confident in another six weeks he'll be laying the groundwork for this year's garden. I'm guessing the tomato plants will be started in the greenhouse as soon as he gets home.

Thank you everyone, for everything. If our strength is measured by those who support us, then I could easily hold up the spheres of the heavens in the manner of Atlas.