HEALTH UPDATE: Still Stable (Crazy) after allllll these years…. LOL. Yes, I remain stable as of my last CT scan about a week and a half ago. I have recovered this week from the side affects of my Covid booster shot. Dang! Those symptoms I get remind me so much of my sickest of days. I’m thrilled to look behind and leave that in the dust. The mother of all scans has been scheduled. The scan I’ve been waiting for. The PET scan. It will take place on February 18th at 7:30 a.m.
Oh, my view is so amazing. My kitchen window overlooks my back yard and into the forest that edges up to natures finest wetland. Cattails, tall green plants in the summer, brown in the winter. Animals and birds abounds. We’ve seen many deer families over the years. One doe succumbed to injuries or illness on the side of our yard once. It’s carcass revealed after the spring thaw. It was gruesome. As is life on occasion. We’ve seen fox, cats, owls, birds, hawks, bunnies and so many squirrels. The birds are amazing. It’s a beautiful view. The sights, sounds and smells are so familiar. So comforting. I’ve had the same view from my kitchen window for 23 years. It’s our first home and most likely my last. I don’t think I’d want it any other way.
I was doing my daily stuff at my kitchen sink this morning. You know, filling the Keurig. Filling the humidifier. Cleaning up dishes. Making Willow breakfast. I get to see the sunrise every morning from this view of mine. It’s stunning through the trees, especially this time of year when the sun has no leaves to hide behind. It’s mostly clear today and the colors are dull yet stunning. The contrast of the orange glow, the blue sky and white snow is something to behold. I am blessed. All I need to do is look at my view for this constant reminder.
The view on the inside of the house isn’t bad either. My small but mighty family is tight. We are the three amigos. We do everything together and always have. There isn’t a day that goes by that we are not together. It’s a miracle that we don’t strangle each other! But we don’t. We need each other. Deeply. It’s the gas that I need to keep driving.
While I cherish these days, there is always the twinge of fear that I will be missing at some point. It was believed and certain upon my diagnosis. Now it is just a floating thought. Will I? Won’t I? Statistics say I have a less than 10% chance of a 5 year survival. I’m different though. My story is nothing short of miraculous. I take this to mean that anything can happen. Anything! I could make it for years and years or I could die suddenly of a clot. I gasp at the thought but I need to be realistic. So, while on occasion I can let these thoughts take over, I remember how grateful I am. I am here with my view on borrowed time that many with my same disease are not rewarded. I pray for my fellow warriors. May peace be with you, always.