Today I had lunch with my sister and my good friend Sue Kolze. Sue is 75 years old and her schedule each day usually includes saving cats and kittens in community colonies.  It was great to see her and for her to see me and of course she has some projects for me. It will be nice to be involved in animal rescue even if I can’t be fostering.   Basically we are trying to establish a nonprofit that will care for community cats. There are too few trappers and those that are trapping are not in communication with each other. If the trapping and medical care can all be run like a business, we might make a dent in the community cat population.  I also will be helping write grants for local cat rescuer extraordinary Lindalee who runs Kitty Korner.  

Reflection. When you take away all the activities that you were able to do, biking, walking, fostering, what do you have left? How do you define yourself when you can no longer do the things that make you? For me the answer is to see this is a temporary hiatus. A period of rest and reflection. My hope is that when and if I conquer this enough to live a fairly normal life, I can add things back in. How I miss the old me!  

My sister Judith, Sue and me.

Later in the day…

A new twist…

This afternoon, I got a call from Moffitt wanting to schedule a laparoscopic surgery. I looked it up and it’s not too scary.  Just adds more pain during recovery.  

So the date is September 8th which means Hans will be in the Netherlands. My best friend, Bunny, has drawn  the lucky straw and gets to take me to my 7:15 AM appointment   

The next bit of joy comes on September 13 when I resume chemotherapy for four more rounds. Anyway, I guess no complaints because we’re moving forward towards something. On a serious note, it’s very strange living treatment to treatment. You just get through and then hope for the best and you get through and you hope for the best and at some point they won’t be a best and hard decisions will have to be made. That’s the scary part.  Feels good to write it down but I need to leave that space alone and keep repeating my mantra “one day at a time.”

Yesterday is gone, tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today, let us begin.” — Mother Teresa

If I’m being completely honest, the mantra  “one day at a time” is a hard one to live with. Although I may continually repeat “one day at a time, one day at a time,” my mind goes forward to risks of surgery, and the pain of chemo.  I feel like I am kicking the can down the road just to find that I have to keep kicking. Understanding of course, that the future is unknown for all of us, but knowing that my short term future is still full of fight and fright.   So, instead, I think I will try to consciously think of the unknown. My new mantra until the doc calls with results of the biopsy is “ignorance is bliss”.  And, if I’m honest with myself, and I try to be, no one knows what the future holds.  We press on and live life.

At least now the thrush is gone and I can taste and eat real food.  I share the news on the kiddos text and get this reply.          

“I want to see fat mom in November”.  Along with a moving gif of a pig eating slop.  

Seems like the right time for another of my inspirational quotes.