Well, Dear Readers, it turns out that the hurried pace of this last month has affected my writing skills. Please forgive me for any tangential paragraphs, grammatical and/or spelling errors. In my experience, writing requires constant practice…which I haven’t been doing as much as I would like.
My days have been filled with prepping for Christmas and answering phone calls from both Boston and Burlington. I was starting to feel as though I couldn’t breathe nor do anything between the hours of 8-5 on Mondays through Fridays.
Can’t miss a call.
Can’t miss a call.
Ugh. I missed a call.
These were the most prevalent thoughts racing through my mind. They put me on edge. They made my emotions ping-pong all the more. Neither did the game of ping-pong stop after Friday 12/17’s mandatory webinar.
As I have had one bone marrow transplant already, much of the webinar did not consist of new information. It simply confirmed my fears that my independence was being taken from me. Eating whatever I want? Painting? Cuddling with the dogs at night? It was all going to disappear on January 14th.
I sobbed after the webinar. Then, suddenly, I wanted to punch something. Or break something and turn it into a mosaic. Broken things can be fixed, right?
I couldn’t stand how disheartened I felt, so I called my mother and sobbed on the phone. Little known fact, while I was an inpatient in Burlington this past summer, I was also an insomniac. I refused sleep medications because I don’t like taking unknown drugs. I’m also the occasional sleepwalker with PTSD. And, as an inpatient, I was being forced to live out my PTSD. I was in the center it. No wonder I couldn’t sleep!
When my mom came to visit me, she sat in a nearby chair and read to me. I drifted off almost immediately. My Boston caregiver (writing about you, honey!) will most likely have to do the same.
There are other people who have been tremendous sources of hope and strength. I have a peer-to-peer contact through the Leukemia Lymphoma Society. Eric Drew has a TED talk that is both moving and informative. Please Google it and give it a listen when you have a spare moment.
It’s amazing, too, what coffee with a friend can do.
We claimed a table in the café by the windows. It had snowed the day before; sunshine bouncing off of our city’s fresh, mostly white coat. We had a wonderful time! Knowing I wouldn’t be available after my birthday, she brought an early birthday present with her. It included this guy:
Our conversation turned to dreaming about the future and writing down goals to research. Believe it or not, I want to learn more about birds. I want to be able to recognize them. It’s a goal made easier by the cute bird feeder that yet another friend has given to me.
My coffee date encouraged me to keep dreaming and making plans. I love this idea—it gives me hope. I left the café with a smile on my face and the determination to visit the local Co-op.
The local Co-op is one of my favorite places to visit. I inhaled deeply as soon as I opened the door. I wish I knew what that scent was comprised of—I’d try to replicate it and bottle it for myself. It’s so homey, comfortable and pure magic.
On Tuesday of this past week, I was surprised by a small group of carolers from the school I was working at prior to relapse. I was so happy to see them all that I wanted to cry joyful tears! They certainly brought me holiday cheer, a smile, and the inspiration to have a “Merry Christmas”.
Finally, I must share with you, Dear Readers, the song that is currently healing me. The album arrived in my mailbox as a gift from my dearest friend. I still have moments of panic, but I’m not terrified anymore. I’m not sad. I no longer require a punching bag. I am simply heartbroken, but this song conjures candlelit memories. It provides me with clues as to who I was before Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia became a word in my personal lexicon.
I was a vocalist in the church choir. One holiday season, I had a solo in Amy Grant’s “Breath of Heaven (Mary’s Song)”. I don’t believe it’s coincidental, that this song is featured on the album that my friend gave to me.
I am waiting in a silent prayer
I am frightened by the load I bear
In a world cold as stone
Must I walk this path alone
Be with me now
Be with me now
Breath of heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven lighten my darkness,
Pour over me your holiness
For you are holy.
Although I don’t own any part of this song or the lyrics, I felt the nudge to share it with you. I repeat “Breath of Heaven, hold me together” on a daily basis. Sometimes, healing is more than vital signs and medications. Sometimes it’s more than the pretests I’ll be subjected to on 12/27. Sometimes, healing can be found in music. This is where I have found courage. This is my hope.
I have been blessed.
Thank you, Dear Readers, for your presence here today. May you have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I am sending prayers, love and light your way.
With Gratitude and Love,
Laura
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