Every once in awhile the niggling fear of the unknown makes its way to the front of my mind and causes a smallish case of nerves.  This morning I awoke feeling a bit apprehensive because Dr. L. has not called me with test results.  She told me that the bone marrow biopsy results would take about two weeks and that she would call me when she knew anything.  The last time I saw her, she didn’t yet have results from the gallium scan or the bone scan either.

Tuesday would have been two weeks for the bone marrow biopsy, and I haven’t heard anything.  I am hoping it is simply the case that Dr. L. has been wildly busy, or that the results have been delayed — not that Dr. L. is sick and away from work or that she has bad news for me and doesn’t want to tell me over the phone.  Rationally, I know that it is pointless to worry, that in all likelihood everything is fine and that even if the news isn’t great, worrying won’t change the outcome.  Still, in spite of my best efforts, that niggling doubt remains.

Whatever the reason for the delay, I am bound to learn something on Tuesday when I see Dr. L. once again.  Oddly, I am looking forward to Tuesday (because I hope to get answers), but dreading Wednesday (when I will begin my second chemo cycle).

The good news is that Monday is Thanksgiving here in Canada.  I am looking forward to a big, family get-together (a sure distraction from the niggling doubt).  I love this holiday, probably because there are so many blessings in my life.  If you are reading this blog, I’m guessing that you, too, enjoy a large number of blessings.  So, to plagiarize a popular “grace”, . . . for all that we receive each day, let us be truly thankful.

Amen.

Shock and Awe — I know this phrase was used by Rumsfeld et al. to describe their misguided campaign in Iraq.  However, in my life, the phrase has a much more positive meaning.

I am utterly shocked  and awed by the waves of love, kindness and generosity that continue to wash over me.

I don’t want to include people’s names in my blog, especially without asking them first, but I do have to mention my friends at Hyde Park School.  The gift basket and gift card they sent me are so enormous and so thoughtful that no one would believe it unless they saw it with their own eyes.  It is obvious how much thought and care went into this gift, as each item was chosen to make my trek through cancer territory more comfortable.  As I use each item, I am overcome with gratitude and love for these amazing people.

Along those lines, my darling friends from Calico Book Club have also outdone themselves.  As a result, I am now the proud owner of enough audiobooks to get me through all the rest of my chemo sessions.  Sweet!  I am busily transferring them to my ipod.  It’s so nice to have something to look forward to during my darkest hours.

There are so many individuals who are working hard to keep my spirits up and to ensure that I am comfortable and happy.  I won’t include your names, for privacy reasons, but please know that I am in awe of everything you are doing and that each act of kindness means more than you will ever know.   In a recent University of Chicago Alumni Newsletter, there was an article titled, “Social Isolation Worsens Cancer”.  I said to Terry, “We don’t have to worry about that!”  It is because of you, dear friends, that we don’t have to worry.  I can understand how easy it would be to feel blue when fighting cancer.  I don’t have the energy to get out of the house very much, and that could be very isolating.  Because of the extraordinary efforts of my extraordinary friends, I don’t feel isolated or blue in the least.  If I beat this thing, it is because of you.  You are there, holding my hand, both physically and metaphorically, every step of the way.

Shock and awe indeed, and most of all, love.