September 29, 2006
When the forecasters spoke of winds and rain coming down the plains from the north, we could see the weather on the maps and be true believers. At the walks into the pasture and forest, there was a palpable sense of something coming in the actions of the creatures around. The robins gathered in the top branches of the dead cottonwood on the west side of the pasture, and sitting right below them were seven flickers, an usual sight here. There were innumerable moths of yellow, white and light green moving over the fall blooms, sharing the space with dozens of bumblebees, and no less than eight squirrels were stuffing themselves with sunflower seeds at the feeding stations. I had to think that it requires weather maps and weather experts to inform us while right next to us an entire population of creation is propelled forward by ancient wisdom far too subtle for us to fathom.
Change is the order of the day. The time has come for the annual trek to the basement storage area to gather clothes designated for fall and winter and exchange them for the white summer pants, short sleeved shirts, and other lightweight favorites. Sadly, I overdid the moth ball bit, and the first garments brought forth carried a scent powerful enough to not only deter moths of all sizes and ages, but possibly able to wilt the flowers in the living room. There is work to be done in this area, or else we will be identified in the next season by people sniffing and saying, “Here come the Ores.”
In the past three weeks, I watched my blood counts slowly moving downward, and called the oncologist’s office for reassurance that this was not a concern. As I mentioned, I had intended to say that as long as the blood counts were in the normal range, I would dearly like to hold off the ten days of Chemotherapy since the treatment makes me feel generally rotten. Shortly after that determination, the blood went below the “normal” range. Today I had the blood checked again at the oncologist’s office, and it had turned around and the counts were going back up again. Apparently, this downward trend was indeed caused by the chemo, and now, perhaps it will continue to return to the normal levels. I did ask about delaying the next round if possible, and was told that this would be ill advised. Just then, a man came up and said, “Are you Constance?” I said yes, and he said, “I’m the person who has been on Vidaza now since it came out, and I’ve never felt better! I’m the person the doctor told you to call at the beginning of your treatment, and you talked to my wife.” He was beaming with delight. I asked how frequently he had the therapy and he said, “Every four weeks.” “Mercy, what are your side effects?” I asked, “Why, none to speak of,” was his reply, “just some aching in the shoulders now and then.” Though I do try to live according to the commandment, “Thou shalt not covet” I felt a surge of envy at his good fortune, but I congratulated him heartily and commented that he surely should wear a special shirt covered with stars. He smiled even more largely and said, “I had hoped to be on TV by now.” Considering the high incidence of life threatening illness at a cancer clinic, there is an even higher level of joy at happy stories in that place!