Life Just Keeps On

 Life just keeps going on, until it doesn't. 

I got cancer last year and, while I am doing well now, let me tell you first off that chemo is barbaric. Because I got another colonoscopy at the constant urging of my primary care provider, the anal lesion was discovered early at Stage II. My oncologists are transparently happy with my outcome and that makes me wonder how many patients they lose on the regular. The people who waited too long to see any doctor. The people for whom there was no routine test to catch their cancer early. The very old people who may not want to have surgery, chemo, or radiation. 

I never asked myself "Why me?" because, why not me? Life is a crapshoot.

So here I am, about 6 months out from my last treatment and my hair has grown out curly! I will admit that losing my hair was terrible and made me feel very ugly. I would look in the mirror and all I could see was my bald father staring back at me. I tried not to look at my reflection because it hurt. I'm not crazy about the curls but at least I have hair again and try to be grateful.

It was a good Thanksgiving. That's me on the right.

On the other hand, I had good insurance through Sweetie's job, and because of other circumstances, my sister-in-law had moved in with Sweetie and me so I had someone to cart my ass back and forth, an hour each way, to treatment. I had a cool, dark room and a soft couch, and surprisingly, no anxieties. (The anxiety has since returned, dang it.) (Also insert rant about how insurance should not be tied to employment. How is that fair?) (Also, my allergies all but disappeared during treatment. I reckon my body had more important things to fight beside itself. I don't know - it was a weird side effect.)

I feel about 90% these days, and am trying to go on walks again. Last Spring, I felt better than I had in a long time. I was walking 3 miles a day and my energy levels were good. I built a hoop-style greenhouse in the backyard. I had all sorts of plans. My walks now are sporadic and I tire after thirty minutes. 

The greenhouse in April. In the last snowfall of the season.

I didn't want to knit then because it was too damn hard. I couldn't do handwork of any sort. No bread-making, either. 

Right now, I'm doing okay. I just took a loaf out of the oven and I have yarn wound up for a pair of socks. I even got the spinning wheel out and made some nice yarn. I hope you all are okay, too.