Days of Our Lives

Well, this weekend, my only child, my 18 year old baby, Alex, started his college life. Now it's not the extreme transition to dorm life, as he is living at home and commuting to Xavier University. But still it is the next stage of his life and also one for Ken and me.

We went down to the bookstore a day early so I could show him how to find the books for his classes and also how to pick the best used books. I remember when I was a freshman at Ohio State how lost I was the first time I went to the bookstore. I didn't realize they had the textbooks by class in a big room in the back and was trying to find my texts in the regular books. It was all so confusing and made me wonder why I ever went to such a large school. But that is the difference, isn't it? OSU has over 40,000 students and Xavier's freshman class this year is just over 1200. Xavier's bookstore is not much more floor space than my little 6 room Cape Cod house.

Friday was the beginning of Manresa for Xavier freshmen. The easiest way to explain Manresa is that it is like a giant retreat. It's for bonding as a class with lots of small group activities, informational sessions, recreational time, special speakers, and entertainment. Before the parents leave their children, they have a community celebration in the Cintas Center. Father Graham, the president of the school gave a very encouraging and sometimes funny address about the students passing through Xavier as they begin the rest of their lives.

It was during this speech that I started thinking about my friend Dawn. For those of you that don't know, it was because of her that my cancer was caught when it was. We met through Scouting and Alex is the same age as her oldest, Kyle. Dawn dropped alot of her Scouting activites when she was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago. She lost her battle in May. I was at her memorial when I realized that it had been awhile since I had done a self exam and had been putting off my mammogram for over 3 years. I found the lump the next morning.

I was thinking that Dawn didn't get to have this moment with Kyle. She didn't make it to his high school graduation. They had a private one for her while she was in hospice but it didn't have the pomp and circumstance and joy that I felt when my son's name was called in the grassy courtyard of his school. Not only that, her sons will never get to bring their future wife home to meet Mom, or introduce her to her grandchildren. And that made me so sad. And it made me afraid. What if I don't get these future moments too? I'm fighting hard so that I do, but there is that little tiny bit inside that says your best might not be enough.

So we get to the end of the celebration, and Father Graham gets back up to give the blessing and he says he has 3 blessings. The first is for the parents to the child. We are to put our hand on our child. I can't remember what he said, but I was already on the verge of tears from my thoughts and they just started flowing as he spoke. When he finished, he made a comment about if there were any dry eyes in the house. The second blessing was from the child to the parent and my eyes may as well have been a faucet. Don't ask me what the third blessing was for as I really don't have a clue.

As we filed out of the arena and back out to the sunlight, families all around us were saying their goodbyes. Even though Alex wasn't living on campus, he wasn't coming home with us, as he still activities to attend. He said good bye, I kissed him on his cheek and he took off across the campus without looking back. As I climbed in the car, the tears started flowing again. Ken asked me what was wrong. "My baby is going to college!" Another milestone, another day of life. I have so many more that I don't plan on missing.

Riding the Beast

Well, I have my third chemo treatment tomorrow. All of the awful side effects have finally hit me: the hair loss, the nausea and especially the fatigue. I realize it has been awhile since my last update, but I often just don't have the energy. And truthfully, it's just too hard to write down some of the things I've been going through. Putting it down on paper (figurativly) makes it all too real. This really is happening to me.

I've had good days and bad days. The smallest things can make me cry: a phone call from a friend, a smile from my son, the knowledge that a small country church has me on their prayer list. I'm so overwhelmed by the kindness of people. Those that love me and those who just know that I need good thoughts and strength to get through this.

I wanted so much to be able to work through this. Work gives a nomalacy to my life and I so want normal again. It gave me something else to think about. It felt good to have people around me and I miss them. I hear that it is really busy right now and wish that I could help contribute. But the effort is too much. Sometimes I'm lucky if I get out of bed. On days that I do feel good, a trip to the drugstore or even a shower will wipe me out. So most of my time is spent on the couch, watching daytime TV and playing around on my laptop. It leads to being very restless somedays and not able to do anything about it.

I've decided that cancer is like riding a roller coaster. That first big climb up the hill has the same anticipation and terror that waiting on those first test results have. And then when you first hear that c word, it's going over the plunge, straight down into the deepest despair. Then you're just along for the ride, with all the ups and downs, bumps and bruises. Sometimes you are a little airborne and it doesn't feel too bad, but then you hit another bump or go down another hill and you want to hold on for dear life. But the roller coaster ride eventually comes to an end and you have that adrenaline rush that makes it fun and exciting and wanting to do it again. The cancer ride has no end. It just keeps going and going. Always up and down. It doesn't seem like it will ever end. The station is nowhere in sight. I feel like I am going to beat this and be as good as new in a year. But I'll still be on the ride watching for it to come back. Once cancer has it's foot in the door, it's always looking to push it's way back in.

I didn't mean to end on such a negative note. I really do feel good about how things are going. It's just the getting there that is so hard sometimes.

Till next time,
Love,
Sherry