Saturday morning

I haven't written here in a while; I guess that is an indication of life turning towards normalcy like the tulips I saw in the park this morning, all their lovely long necks bending in the direction of the rising sun (although their blossoms were not in good shape). I had a pretty good week.

I met my new primary care physician, Dr. T, on Monday. I wasn't impressed with the overall practice in that when they took me to an exam room, the woman (nurse? nurse's aide?) who led me there took a paper "gown" and started to hand it to me, saying, "Just take everything off on the top." For the first time, I think, in my lifetime, I said no to someone in a doctor's office. I said, "No, I'm not taking anything off until I meet the doctor. I am a new patient. Dr. T may become my new physician, but I want to meet her before I take my clothes off." The nurse/aide was clearly taken aback. Shortly afterwards Dr. T came in. In the end, I liked her. She seemed down to earth. She was surprised to learn that I wasn't visiting her for a specific problem/issue. She didn't even realize my "sarcoma" was uterine cancer. I gave her a basic medical history. I discussed with her the fact that I am not really interested in undergoing any further "procedures" for some period of time. She gave me the name of a doctor to schedule a colonoscopy - when I am ready - and I promised to try to do so within a year. She asked if I was willing to have a bone density scan at the time I have my next regularly scheduled mammogram, and I agreed, so she made arrangements for that (likely to be in August). And that was it. I now have a new PCP if I get sick. Otherwise, for the immediate future, she's not asking me to do anything other than the bone density test.

This coming Monday I see Dr. M, for the final medical appointment until I see Dr. R in July.

The week at work was good, slower than usual in that I caught up on alot of current projects and completed many of them and new assignments seemed to have slowed down some. The work does sometimes happen in waves, so this may be the calm before a storm.

One thing I did was make a decision that I would like to go away for a few days by myself, to reflect back on the last year - leading up to my diagnosis (confront the fears that led me to delay somewhat going to my doctor when I knew I was having a problem) and everything since - surgery, chemo, radiation, chemo and completing treatment. I started looking for a place to go and got demoralized quickly. I hoped to go over Memorial Day weekend - and of course rates are higher then and it is fast approaching. It seemed like my choices were between Motel 6 type facilities (I even looked at one motel on the CT shore that had a minus one star rating - who knew you could get a minus star rating???) - on the one hand - and expensive Bed and Breakfast type places, all of which were costly and prone to advertise their "romantic" settings, neither of which - cost or romance - was a draw in my case. Then David had an inspired suggestion, which was to check retreat-type facilities. And specifically he looked up St. Edmund's, the church/retreat/former monastery on Ender's Island where David and I have visited (and about which I have written here - it's the place with the small public chapel that faces the Long Island Sound, where visitors leave notes to God asking for help or praying for lost ones).

And - Lo and Behold as they say - they DO offer retreat facilities, including for private retreats like I am seeking. So I made a 2-night reservation over Memorial Day weekend. Not expensive, price includes meals (by oneself "in silence" or "with community" - I chose the community). There are a church and a chapel available, a 12-acre site surrounded by the Sound on 3 sides, gardens, plenty of benches for sitting, meditating, reading, resting. Freedom to come and go. I think it will be wonderful. I'm going to take a few good books, a notebook to write in, music on my iPod, no computer, cell phone only for emergencies. One of the days I will drive up the shoreline a few miles to Barn Island and walk the wildlife preserve trails there. I'll take my binoculars to try to do a little bird watching. What a gift to myself.

Today Jessie and I went to the park. We were able to get there by around 5:45 am. Once again, the heron was back, a slim but distinctive silhouette in almost the same place on the same side of the pond. This time I chose not to try to approach; I stopped the car and watched her through the still dim light of the dawning for a bit, and then I parked far enough away I hoped not to disturb her. But by the time Jessie and I had walked our normal route and come back, she was gone - again. This time I have confidence she is close by. I am looking forward to my next sighting of her.

I'm not yet sure what I am going to do about this blog. I think I will give myself through my "retreat" over memorial day to think about it. There are so many individuals who have written to me to congratulate me on finishing treatment and just to update me on their lives and seek updates on my "life" (and not just my cancer journey) - and as soon as my exhaustion lifts a little more, I hope to answer each one. I hope you know that I love receiving your notes, with YOUR news of the goings on, ups and downs, of your daily journeys. Even if I haven't written back - don't give up on me, I will.

In the meantime, may the oil-drenched birds, turtles and sea mammals fill the dreams of every executive at BP, causing each of them to awake with a start, dreaming that dream of falling falling falling, drenched in sweat and hoarse with terror. (Not a very peaceful sentiment, I'm afraid.)

Other than that, may peace be with our planet and its creatures all.