And another thing that's difficult to fathom; that so so many people have been through this ahead of me, without the aid of modern anti-nausea meds that make it possible to eat and sleep and function in a somewhat normal way. And many have been through it more than once. And many died in the process. And many still do.
My mind floats to all the suffering we, the family of humanity, endure. Trauma, abuse, violence, disease... Everyone has their personal trial and tribulation. I don't mean to be depressing; I'm not feeling depressed. I feel lucky, actually. Not lucky to have cancer, but lucky to feel closer to the core, closer to compassion. And lucky, especially, for all the blessings I do have.
Heartfelt messages of love and support from friends and readers. I savor them every day.
Cuties who like each other and like me too. (Here are two: my brother, D, and Millie the pooch.)
An appetite and the ability to cook. (Today's lunch: curried pinto beans with onion, garlic, and summer squash, steamed broccoli rabe with balsamic vinegar, and marinated portabello mushroom. Oh, and some sliced mango for dessert.)
Beauty and the mental space to appreciate it.
Time and energy on a Sunday evening to walk the dog with my beloved. And this land preserve nearby, one of my favorite evening-walk venues.