Plateau

We have noticed our attempts to normalize, to adapt to, and accommodate the various aspects of the reality we are experiencing.  That is to say we plan and execute a routine that enables us to meet the rigors of the external demands--various and persistent medical appointments--while at the same time finding our little pleasures and giving them prominence so as to not allow our lives to be ruled by reaction.

There is comfort on that plateau.  It is a place with soft edges where we can live.

The difficulty comes when change occurs.  Our corner of the Earth quakes  Deep, perilous chasms open forcing us to find a new path, to make new accommodation, to find new pleasures.

This process is a painful, emotional one.  It brings us to the grim edge where intensity crowds out comfort.  It is also the place where epiphany jolts with bright bolts of new awareness.

The cracks began to open on Saturday.  Sunday was a caution, and yesterday we fell to the bottom when our oncologist suggested that the symptoms could well be the glioblastomas progressing.  We knew that was a possibility, but hearing it directly was  still a crush.  He did shine a faint ray of optimism, again telling us what we had hoped:  that the adverse symptoms were Sherry's body and mind responding to the cumulative onslaught of drugs, radiation, and procedures.  After the appointment we drove out to the lake and parked at Beacon Point where we talked, wept, and allowed ourselves to open,  to reaffirm that we are not in this alone.  We embraced each other and the new reality we were experiencing.  We drove home from west on Sherman to north on 4th where we were cheered by the bike racks, the benches, the kiosks, and the general buoyancy of the work that has been completed there.  Beauty and creativity live!

Today we woke up at 3:00 am.
 "Are you awake?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to get up?"
"Yes!"
"Great, I'll go get the shower ready and start the water for tea..."

We put on the day easily, and arrived at the lab for tests a bit early.  They were completed in time for us to walk down the hall  to radiation, then to our appointment with our oncologist.  We were a bit apprehensive about it because we typically only have one appointment with him a week, and back-to-back appointments are unusual.  We filled the wait time with rich conversation, still getting to know each other after all these years.  When our oncologist came in with the lab reports he told Sherry how much better she looked today.  While the symptoms had not changes significantly, they were now ours and we knew that we could handle them together.

So, we seem to be on a new plateau.  We were thrilled to hear our oncologist talking about MRIs 4 weeks from, now then again in 8 weeks, and again in 12.  It may be that all of those weeks might not be on this same plane.  We are hoping for up, but know there's a down, with meaning and joy and small pleasures all around...