August 16, 2007
“The nice thing about rationalizing, it needn’t be rational.” This wonderful statement is lifted from a letter from my sister-in-law, and I wish it could be applied to reality checks. Tuesday afternoon was the latter, with yet another discussion about the nature of MDS and its’ incurability. According to the wisdom accumulated thus far, only a bone marrow transplant has ever effected a cure, and for myself, not even an option. “But I have been feeling so much better” I said, “and the last two rounds of Chemotherapy were morphing into more difficult experiences, so perhaps I was getting toxic.” Not necessarily, said the oncologist; it could mean that the Vidaza is beginning to lose some of its effectiveness. He reiterated that the illness is there, waiting. Thus far, he said, it has been suppressed and instead of life moving forward in a downward manner, it has been held steady on an even plane. We discussed the bone marrow aspiration that would give a new insight into what is happening within, and the decision was reached to do it after one more round of therapy since the bone marrow reading takes at least a week to complete, and the doctor felt strongly that I needed to have the Chemo immediately. Today is the third day of the seven, and it has not been nearly as severe as the past two rounds, and that has been an unexpected gift.
On Monday, Charles announced that he needed to get an anniversary card, and I said, “Please don’t. . . I haven’t gotten you one this year.” He immediately replied, “Of course I am going to buy a card – Hallmark depends on it! And I’ll just get your card for me at the same time.” I thought, “Now that’s a new approach.” He came back later with a large bouquet of roses and two cards in blue envelopes. On Tuesday morning we opened them, and his card to me had a photo on the front of an older couple pictured from the shoulders down, holding hands, and facing the ocean. They stood on the beach in ample, well-wrinkled and well-worn bodies; he in red shorts with a huge white star on the rear, and she in a floral bikini. The card opened up and inside the message said, “One way or another, we still turn heads. Happy Anniversary!” The card selected for me to give to him had the message on the front that said, “It’s so wonderful being married to the greatest spouse in the world!” Inside, the words were, “Isn’t it, Dear? Happy Anniversary”. Thus we began this 47th year with laughter and renewed delight and thanksgiving for a wonderful life together. The children published one of those “Then and Now” sets of photos in the local Sunday paper, so we were well-remembered. Charles would say, “Onward and Upward” and I will add, “Hallelujah, Amen!”