August doings

1

z

Steve finishing up his Shave Ice treat

 Yesterday, Steve and I walked the entire length of Fairhaven's Boulevard Park, from the coffee shop to the Fairhaven Green and back. The red band in the above picture is Steve's own design on his pack, with no way for me to tone down the color to match the rest of the scenery. But never mind, it has made all the other colors fade into the background a little but doesn't change the bright and beautiful sunshine that we enjoyed. Summer is here and we will get a taste of what the rest of the country has been dealing with. We might even reach the mid-80s today, or by Monday or Tuesday (Gasp!). It's been lovely, actually having had such a mild and comfortable summer (so far anyway). While I have watched the temperatures in the rest of the country climb to levels I could not easily deal with, we have instead been forced to endure having to wear a jacket for most of the day, rather than tank tops and sandals. 

Since I last wrote in here, I received what I consider to be a rather sudden date for the Mohs surgery: this coming Thursday, August 14. It will be a day-long affair, with me and SG arriving at the surgery building at 8:30am, and we are told to expect a long day, possibly as long as eight hours, or maybe even more. This surgery will be performed by Joy Makdisi, the surgeon, on me and several other people, sort of a community of patients. All of us will have a segment of tissue removed from our cancer, and then while it is beingevaluated in the lab, other people will have the same procedure done, making all of us in this together. One "shave" at a time, one after another. As soon as the cancer is deemed "gone" for each patient, they will sew the person up and send them on their way. I suspect most people will have several "shaves" before it's considered gone. You have to hope that you will be one of the lucky ones to be finished early.

After the procedure is done, the patient needs to go home and spend one to two weeks doing light movement and nothing too strenuous that might make the stitches come loose. Almost all forms of exercise are to be avoided, except for walking. I hope that several of my usual yoga routines will also be okay, but I will make sure before I try them on for size.

At this point, nobody knows how deep the cancer goes, or how wide the contaminated tissue might extend. By this time next week, however, I'll know so much more about the prognosis and how long before I can get back to living the rest of my life. I am very glad to know it's going to be removed soon. That doesn't mean I am not anxious about the procedure, but I don't have to wonder for weeks whether they can easily remove it or not.

Apparently this procedure is routine, and I keep running into people who have experienced it already. For some, it seems it was rather straightforward, but for others not so much. I won't know which category I'm in until I go through it, but I'm hoping for the best outcome. At first I thought I wouldn't even want to go through it, pretending that the cancer would just recede and quietly go away. But that's not how it works, so here I am getting ready for Thursday's procedure,  and realizing that I am not ready to let it all go just yet. Old age is no fun, but it's superior to the alternative.

I used to think of myself as fearless, but now I realize that's a myth I made up. I am not only frightened by what's happening to me, but I also know that this trajectory of diminishing abilities is my future. It's inevitable, and most of the time I am fine with it, but there are moments when I feel very sad that I have grown so old and am on my way to (dare I say it?) becoming... feeble. It's always a good feeling to wake after a good night's sleep and stride out the door feeling like a million bucks. I still have moments like that, but they are few and far between these days. 

Never mind. I will concentrate on all the good I experience every day: good people, good weather, and wonderful walks. During the five-mile walk yesterday, I enjoyed every moment of it. I don't have to look very far for gratitude.

When I'm grateful for all the blessings, it puts away all the stress about things not in my control. Things like long hours, aging, pollution, scandals... it helps me create perspective by just focusing on being grateful. Take that moment twice a day with yourself. —Darby Stanchfield

It's like taking vitamins, which may or may not make me healthy, but I do it because I believe they help. Taking the time to look up from my own little life and expand my horizons, it always helps. Reading a good book is also helpful, and I can still do that using the low vision setting on my Kindle. Reading right now I am halfway through Barbara Kingsolver's Pulitzer Prize winning book, Demon Copperhead. She writes about Damon (Demon to his friends) who grew up poor and without family in Appalachia. It's very absorbing and incredibly well written, as all her books are. I recommend it.

And the wonderful posts and comments I receive from my virtual family. There are people all over the world who write blogs about their lives, and it certainly gives me a different perspective on my own life. I am part of the community of bloggers who have been doing this for a long time, and as we change and age, we grow and learn from those who are journeying along with us. It's a good time to be alive, and I will take just a teeny moment out of my ruminations to experience gratitude and happy thoughts. Why not? Yes!

Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things, dear friends. Be well.