I wanted to post yesterday, but I was a little down and didn’t want to depress you all. My virtual gang at the LLS discussion forums has been hard hit in the last couple of weeks. It’s not that we don’t expect some of our members will succumb to their disease, but it’s still a shock when they do. One young woman (29) who’d been battling AML for 18 months died last week, leaving behind a husband and 4-year old daughter. She underwent two transplants and tried every experimental drug they could find, but the Beast got her in the end. Another young man (23?) who’s been more or less adopted by the LLS gang because his parents are out to lunch continues to hang by a thread. A 3-year-old has relapsed post transplant and there’s nothing left to be done. One of our regulars, a woman I admire for her pithy writing and incredible strength, has just entered hospice. We are all sad.
Still, there are many amazing stories of hope, courage and success that keep us going. Here I sit seven months post transplant with very few complaints. I ran 2 miles this morning, which was therapeutic mentally and physically. My back has been twinging the last few days and I’ve been having problems with simple things like putting my socks on because I don’t have flexibility in my lower back. Running seems to help loosen these tight muscles. Of course I do the obligatory stretching, too. It’s nice to have a health issue that’s not cancer-related. Bring on the decrepitude.
It’s a gorgeous spring day, and I’m planning on driving to Westerly this afternoon to watch the boys run in their track meet. Talking with the Columbia track coach has sparked some excitement in Mark about going to college. A good time in the 1500 or 800m will fan the flames. Go Mark! Go Harry!
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1 comment:
Very well said. As Churchill would have said, I too have a black dog. I haven't been able to come up with the words to describe how unbelievably pissed I am about Leah and Zach relapsing.
I don't want to rant, so I'll just leave it at that.
Enjoy the race and try not to let the creakiness get to you.
Ann
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