the sunrises, surprises and surmises

oh the vagaries. 3 weeks ago i was in the ER with breathing problems and a fever. not pneumonia, not a pulmonary embolism. no, they say, it’s just the tumors. oh those. dang. i was hoping for something new. it was a saturday and they’d gotten bigger since sunday. the usurpers making some kind of sally. making themselves hard to ignore. when i walked uphill. when i moved. and so we changed drugs. left the trial drug behind. started some new platinum regime.

it has been two weeks and i will tell you the secret thing: i am breathing better now. the claustrophobic reach for air, the tightening, has slowly loosened. the air is plentiful. and sir charles, the stout little lymph snugged in at the base of my neck, is smaller. i think. not bigger.

and then, (here’s where it gets good) this morning, i coughed up a bit of tumor. it happened 4 years ago too. small bits of tumor. could be nothing else, i can assure you. a girl knows her own tumor when she sees it. (email me if you’d like a more descriptive description!) this means the tumor is suffering some carnage at the hands of the platinums. it is hard not to speak of war. and i suppose i do mean them harm. but really, i am just grateful for the extra empty space.

to me, it means time. it means, not so fast. it means my calendar pushes out into the dark mysterious arenas of august and september. i can think in october now. even if it be hubris.
and, most importantly, it feels like it means there is more time to write and think and talk. to walk on dirt, to make decaf coffee, to smell the dog’s feet, to hold hands and to get stuck in traffic.