I went back to the park today, first time since I went back alone after Jessie died. Today I had our foster dog, Ella, with me. It was good to be back. It was strange to be there with a dog other than Jessie, but still good to greet the creatures. Today the creatures that appeared were limited to ducks - many of them - squirrels - more of them - and at some point, a big gaggle of Canada geese. Literally dozens of them, pushing the Mallards out of their preferred spot close to the shore of the north (big) side of the pond to hog it for themselves (if a goose can be said to 'hog' something). Ella seemed to enjoy being at the park, especially the squirrels.
Ella is a very different dog than Jessie, not just physically - she is a mix of perhaps German Shepherd dog and definitely Greyhound - but personality wise. She is sweet, and more expressively affectionate than Jessie (a grand sign of emotion from Jessie was to push her nose into your arm and possibly, if you were VERY lucky, to lick your hand one time). Ella is capable of sprawling out on the bed or floor, or curling on the couch and vegging out (if a dog can "veg out'), but she is lively when we go outside. She's learning to walk on a leash, but still tends to dance on it a bit. She's mad for squirrels. I can tell Ella has "sight hound" in her (versus "scent hound"). Of course she sniffs around a little as we walk, but not as much as Jessie or other dogs I've known. Instead she is incredibly focused in watching everything around her. She will stare upwards, at the sky, when a flock of crows go overhead. The other night she stared at the moon, which was nearly full, gleaming in the night sky.
News on other fronts - today is the start of a week's vacation for me. Thanksgiving and the day after are holidays at my job, so I took Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off as well. No real plans - except to relax, get to know Ella better, perhaps straighten up the house a little. My oncologist, Dr. M's office called and postponed my November 30 appointment to December 20th. That felt weird - gave rise to a feeling of slight insecurity, as if to stay healthy I needed to see him sooner rather than later. But of course, if he is comfortable that I can wait 3 weeks, I can wait three weeks. So I'll see him 12/20 and then Dr. R in late January at which time I'll make the appointment for the next CT scan, likely in April (which will be 1 year since finishing the chemo/radiation/chemo treatments). I still wonder how cancer survivors measure their survivorship - from their diagnosis (in which case I am One Year out) or from the end of their treatment, which would be April for me. From diagnosis seems to make sense because, in fact, I HAVE survived for one year since my diagnosis. In some ways, it seems much longer; in other ways, the year has flown by. As Thanksgiving approaches, I recall last year's holiday, when I had just started chemo, and I think it was the Friday after Thanksgiving that I went and had my hair shaved off. Now my head is full of curls - chemo curls. When people compliment my hair, I tell them they too can have such curls, all it takes is a few months of chemotherapy! Actually I like my curly hair - I am just trying not to become invested or attached to it, since I understand the effects of chemo on hair often are not permanent.
In the world, madness. Cholera in Haiti. Cholera! Unbelievable. My daughter is planning to go back to Haiti next year, again to volunteer with S.O.I.L. (http://www.oursoil.org/). Perhaps some day I'll be able to go with her. She designed their new 2011 calendar for them - available at the foregoing website. It's a great organization and I encourage all to support it (of course, I'm buying a bunch of the calendars and so some of you may get one from me as a holiday present!)
Then there are the mid-term election results. A pox on all their houses. If government's acts (and omissions) didn't cause and increase real world suffering, I would say the next 2 years might be "fun," in the sense of watching a deadly poisonous snake eat itself tail first.
Being in the park today reminded me that life persists, even when the world seems to turn dark, when tree limbs are bare, and grass and leaves brown and decay, and the air is chill, life hunkers down and reserves itself, and waits patiently for its time to come again, to push out and strive. This is the way of nature, and are we not creatures of nature? Can we learn to be patient, to hunker down when we must but still to have hope, reserve our strength and find our own time, and then stir, rise and strive?
Peace and kindness.
No comments:
Post a Comment