“Writing is a struggle against silence.” – Carlos Fuentes
Below was originally posted in “Cancer – We “CAN” Beat This!”
Since the last post, and yes I realize it’s been a while since I’ve provided you with the thoughts of this wayfarer, I’ve spent time out on the lake with my long time friend Andy, have been glued to the NHL playoffs, all of which provided “bonus hockey” and I watched the team I bleed for fall at home – yes at home – to an inferior team the other night. So the NHL season for me has come to an end and oddly enough I took it better than I normally do. In years past I would go into a funk that lasted a month or so and I’m sure the reason I am not as upset as normal has to do with current priorities. You immediately know my position on Boston sports upon stepping foot into my office – so today’s post is on “observations” and as this post has percolated in my subconscious for the past few days I’ve realized the title for this may be the first part in a long series relating to the subject.
During a check-up with Bonnie’s oncologist; Dr. Anderson yesterday, we learned her blood work was exactly where it is supposed to be – no surprises. Many of you received the text from me yesterday afternoon while we sat back in a local drinkery. My bride and I walked out of his office hand-in-hand taking in the good news with a deep sigh and remembering the day we learned chemotherapy and radiation were doors we would not have to walk through. Dr. Anderson is such a cool and calming individual, for someone who probably dispenses more bad news than your average MD; it’s a joy to sit in one of his waiting rooms, with the incredibly expansive views of the Sonoma County Mountains while entering and exiting this facility.
My observation yesterday was one filled with confidence, pride and positive energy. Watching my wife discuss her past, her future and current conditions with Dr. Anderson yesterday allowed me to sit in the shadows and watch it all unfold. As you all know from previous passages we are extremely lucky her Stage 2 was caught early and with the best hands available we were able to get in there, extract the tumors and press on. In the course of the past sixteen months there have been thousands of observances and yesterday I was able to watch my bride take the driver’s seat position and deal with a very pressing situation with the confidence of someone who has certainly been there before.
Take the time to observe and appreciate the little things in life. The beers and wines we enjoyed in the late afternoon sunlight were our own little way of understanding there’s still a life’s worth of checkups, blood draws and possibilities, though for now, for today, we posted a crooked number on life’s scoreboard and still standing in there to take on tomorrow’s selection of curves, knucklers and change-ups.
Appreciate your patience. Today’s sunshine is filling my window and I’ve had my morning laugh with an old buddy of mine on the east coast. All is good.
Peace,
Papa
