A Few Thoughts on Gratitude

Last night I was reading the private blog of a fellow Hodgkin's Lymphoma survivor who wrote, what I think, are some very provoking thoughts on positivity and gratitude.  After being in remission for some time, she just learned that she has relapsed.  Here is an excerpt from her blog...

"I don't want any other cancer warrior to think I am bubbly and optimistic twenty four seven even after receiving such disappointing news.  There is a huge difference between being 'happy' and being 'grateful.'  The gratefulness piece is always in me. Always.  However, it was tough to get out of bed the last few days and to look at the bright side of things when the reality is that more treatment will continue in the future.  I think it's important for those that are ill or receive hard news, that we are still gentle with ourselves.  In the beginning I used to repress these feelings and ignore them, realizing they would only come out later to bite me in the butt.  Now, if I feel down for a few days, I let myself.  Usually after a week or two, I find myself back on my feet again and moving.  I am no superwoman -- none of us are, so I believe its truly important to let yourself 'be' in these types of situations."

Now, I am generally a very grateful person - and 99% of the time a very optimistic person - but I have to admit that this girl is one step ahead of me because I've only just learned what she already has, that it is ok to let yourself feel down when you actually do...and to let yourself 'be' when you need to.  Sometimes it is necessary to experience those feelings, and then they pass and you move on.  Like she says, for me the gratitude and hope are ever present, but I've come to realize that it is not just ok - but healthy - to let myself experience the emotions of sadness or frustration.

Over the past few months of dealing with chronic Graft versus Host Disease (since my previous post), I've had a few of these moments as my strength has been sapped and my body has been changing in not-so-pleasant ways from two months of being on high-dose steroids.  It has been a frustrating two months, and Wednesday I was admitted to the hospital yet again, while the doctors try to figure out why my blood levels all tanked over the past week.

Yesterday they performed another bone-marrow biopsy on me...and afterwards I decided that I needed to reward myself, since it is such a painful procedure.  This is another good lesson learned - how to allow myself rewards - and so I walked across the street from the hospital to Starbucks and treated myself to an iced mocha caffe with extra whipped topping!  Yum!  Now, that is something to be grateful for!  Also, during the biopsy I just kept thinking, "yeah, this hurts, but at least I'm not cutting off my arm with a dull pen knife!  (Have you seen the movie, 127 Hours?)

So, in addition to those two, I'd like to share a few other random things that I'm grateful for (in no particular order):

- back porches and hammocks
- having a car that is paid off
- dental floss (i love that feeling of freshly flossed teeth!)
- Sunday breakfasts with Sherri and Pam
- spring flowers and a mom with a serious green thumb

- chubby babies - they're just too cute!
- being one of the few people of my generation who has actually benefited from Social Security, and not just paid into it
- today I'm not sore from yesterday's bone marrow biopsy
- CHOCOLATE!!!
- being able to encourage people
- wash -n- wear hair
- best friends, birthdays, ice-cream pie from Handel's, and licking the plate clean!

- the independence of being single
- joyful memories
- finding those perfect shoes that aren't just cute, but make your feet feel awesome...and then buying them in two colors!
- friends with campers who invite you over and feed you yummy camp food (Peggy)
- kids who innocently ask why that girl is wearing a mask, and parents who aren't afraid to give a real answer instead of embarrassingly shushing them
- new home office furniture that I will soon be assembling...it's like a big jigsaw puzzle and I love it!
- Jesus, who never changes and is the source of my gratitude, hope, strength and life
- my laptop, cell phone, ipod, Netflix, and HGTV
- living next door to my parents
- wonderfully supportive friends at work who check in on me and two years ago helped send me to Europe
- looking forward to traveling again
- my nurses at the stem cell clinic who always make me laugh and smile with their antics

It's certainly not a comprehensive list...I could keep going - fruit, indoor plumbing, clothing with elastic, eyesight - but I'll stop for now and just ask this...

What are you grateful for?

Power Outage

I came home around 7 yesterday evening after a full and fun day that included a wonderful church service, breakfast with Sherri, and shoe shopping (yay!).  I also arrived home with two new pairs of shoes (double yay!)!  Famished, I flipped on the light switch in the kitchen to begin making dinner, and nothing happened.  So I looked to the clock on the microwave and it was blank...looked at the VCR in the living room, blank also.  Ugh, the power is out.  I guess that will really limit my dinner options - no stove, no microwave...

But my first priority, while there was still some daylight, was assembling as many candles as were available and lighting them around the house.  I gathered 23 in all and had them strewn about the kitchen, living room and bathroom.  I dug out my camping gear where my headlamp was stashed, and set about making my tuna salad sandwich, the only thing I could come up with that did not require cooking of any sort.

Then I sat down to a very lovely candlelit dinner while the chimes on my back porch played wildly in the wind that was undoubtedly the culprit for the loss of electricity.  Aside from the chimes, everything was so silent...no sounds from the furnace or the refrigerator...those barely noticeable hums that our electronic appliances eminate that just blend in to the background unnoticed, that is until they aren't there.

It was quite a beautiful evening actually.  Peaceful and calming.  And I thought to myself, why don't I just turn out the lights and turn off the electronics and enjoy this same peacefulness more often?  Why do I only enjoy it when it is forced upon me?

I couldn't help myself, but had to grab my camera and begin taking pictures of all the candles and the glow and reflections that they were creating.  It was enchanting.

When the power did come back on around 10 o'clock, I decided that I would just leave the lights out and finish the evening by candlelight until bedtime.  I did however appreciate having the furnace back on, as the house was becoming a bit chilly...

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today I turned 32!  Wow...  and what a fun birthday it was!  Blessings upon blessings...I am a much spoiled girl!  Breakfast with friends, fun painting pottery, a delicious dinner with family, and my Oma's famous birthday cake recipe, which my Mom has perfected (3 layer with this amazingly rich mocha icing...YUM!!).  Spoiled, spoiled...and very full!  (Afterall, most of what I did today was EAT!)

I may be 32, but never too old to sit on Mom's lap!!

Isn't that a great bag from Sherri...I can't wait to use it!

And my birthday cake all lit up...there were 8 candles.  I think Mom got confused and thought I was a leap year baby...  good thing...  I had a hard enough time blowing out 8, much less 32!  :)

Unfortunately, the cake suffered from a bit of an earthquake!  But it was still such a beautiful cake...and did I mention scrumptuously yummy too?!
I'm already looking forward to a slice for breakfast...
I'll be having sweet dreams tonight!  xxxxxx

Learning to Leap

This is an essay that I submitted to "Real Simple" magazine last fall for their Life Lessons Essay Contest.  I waited to post this, as the judging only took place in January.  But, seeing that I didn't win, I thought I'd put it here for all to read.  Enjoy...   :)

“Make sure you jump far out, away from the rocks,” my German guide Lukie shouted over the roar of the waterfall. I trembled inside, my legs wobbling, and wondered if I could jump at all, but I smiled at Lukie, closed my eyes, and pushed off with all my might from the small ledge in the boulder. Seconds later, I plunged into a deep, swirling pool of frigid glacial-melt water thirty feet below.

I was never one to leap. I was practical, responsible, careful – a planner, a list-maker. I was the kind of person who made lists about the lists I needed to make. In college, my architecture curriculum included the opportunity to study in Florence, Italy, during the Spring semester of third year. At the time, I was strapped for cash and involved in a serious relationship with a guy at home. My school loans were already sizable, and I simply couldn’t envision the value that the study abroad program offered. Not wanting to add to my debt or leave my boyfriend behind – or to experience change of any kind – I decided to stay behind in the familiarity of snowy Ohio while my classmates gathered their passports and boarded a plane. Many evenings that following summer, I came home after work, opened the mailbox and greeted postcards of Big Ben, the Spanish Steps in Rome, or the blue waters of the Mediterranean from friends who remained in Europe for the summer backpacking. Swallowing my envy, I felt at that point that I had forever missed my opportunity.

By the age of thirty, I had passed my professional exams to become a registered architect and was well established in a stable job at a large architecture firm. I methodically saved a portion of each paycheck, sacrificing while others spent. Within five years, I had actually saved up a down payment for a modest starter home. Just as I had done all my life, I was doing the sensible, responsible thing. I was becoming independent. I was establishing equity. And then, I drastically changed direction.

A month earlier in May of 2009, my best friend Sherri and I daydreamed about all of the goals we wanted to achieve in life. We both dreamed of backpacking through Europe, traveling by train, staying in hostels, and going wherever a whim might take us. I also shared that I wanted to travel to Munich, Germany, with my mom and sister to see where my mom lived as a little girl. As Sherri scribbled our list in her journal, I privately wondered, would it ever really be possible for me to steal away from the responsibilities of life to take a trip like that?

A month later, I met with my oncologist to review the results of my most recent PET/CT scan. For the past two years, I had been receiving treatments for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. As I sat in the exam room, my doctor looked at me with concern showing in his kind eyes, to tell me that my most recent radiation and chemotherapy treatments weren’t effective. My only remaining option was an Allogenic (donor) Stem Cell Transplant. He told me that I would need to have my bloodwork compared to that of my sister to determine if she could be a match. If not, the hospital would search for a matching donor among the Bone Marrow Registry.

For hours on end, my doctor and his team thoroughly reviewed the overwhelming magnitude of what the transplant would entail. Flinching, I heard the nurse rattle off, “No travel – for years possibly,” because I would have a low immune system and an increased risk for contracting infections. Not hearing her next words, my mind flashed to the list Sherri and I wrote.

“How soon will the transplant take place?” I asked.

“If your sister isn’t a match, it could take six to eight weeks to find and schedule a donor.” Six weeks. The words resounded in my ears.

The surprising calm I felt in my heart shocked me as I knew I was about to do the first radically impulsive thing of my life – to give up the tangible security of a house for the intangible promise of an adventure. If not now, when?

The plan formed quickly over the next few days. I would be going on extended disability leave for the transplant anyway. Surely my office could spare me for six more weeks. Within two weeks, my faithful traveling companion Sherri and I had received the blessing of both of our employers. Our jobs would be held for us, and we were free to go.

The blessings continued to flow in as I shared with family, friends, and coworkers about the Europe trip I was about to take. Their generosity was overwhelming. My sister donated a travel stipend that she had received as a bonus at work, a gift that perfectly covered the cost of two Eurail passes. A benevolent coworker shared his unused frequent flier miles so that I could purchase our roundtrip tickets. Coworkers took up a collection, hosted a casual day, and put on a raffle to raise money for me. On my final day at work, my work family presented me with a generous check and told me that, in addition, many kind coworkers had willingly given their own vacation days to add to my own to cover the entire duration of my six weeks abroad. I could barely speak the words “thank you” through the lump in my throat, stunned at their extreme charity and selflessness.

That night, our brand new, carry-on sized backpacks sat open on my kitchen table as Sherri and I stuffed them with our six changes of clothes and an extra pair of shoes each, travel guides, maps, and an assortment of other gadgetry. Early the next morning, we caught the first of our series of flights to Greece. As the arrangements for our expedition had unfolded rapidly, we only knew that we were landing in Athens, the following day catching a ferry to the island of Santorini, nine days later flying from Athens to Barcelona, 26 days later meeting my family in Paris, and 42 days later flying home from Paris. These dates were the only fixed points in our nearly non-existent itinerary. We had reserved rooms for our first few nights in Athens, Santorini and Barcelona. The rest, we would make up as we went along! With my house savings transferred to my checking account, we skipped excitedly down the boarding ramp to our plane and the start of a life-defining adventure.

With each day, new sights, sounds, places, tastes, feelings, and experiences bombarded me. There was the unforgiving heat of Athens, the breathtaking grandeur of stained glass cathedrals, and the soulful, melancholy sounds of the accordion echoing off the stone buildings and cobble streets in the Bari Gotic. There was the thrill of stepping off the train in Reims and searching for a place to sleep, the hustle of the crowds on the nighttime streets in Venice, and the sticky, sweet taste of chocolate crepes eaten in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. I had never envisioned myself lunging over waterfalls, cliffs, and canyons in Switzerland, or racing off a mountain while air currents carried my parachute high above steep hillsides where sheep grazed. Certainly, I never imagined standing on a peak in the Alps, where I looked out over clouds below me and asked God to show me the view, and then watched the clouds part before my eyes to reveal a brilliantly blue lake far below.

And since we were living the dreams of our list, we were joined in Munich by my mom and sister. I had hoped – but never expected – to witness the unbridled joy on my mom’s face as she explored the familiar rooms of her childhood apartment or to hear the stories she told as we stood in front of her school.

More than any of those unforgettable experiences, though, I never anticipated learning the value of letting go, of simply being, and of not dictating the activities of my day based on responsibility, obligation, or the expectations of others. I was liberated, carefree, and living life fully and abundantly.

On a Friday in late August, Sherri and I flew home. I was to be admitted to the hospital on the following Wednesday, after another PET/CT scan. Tuesday, I met with my doctor before admission to review the results of the scan. He walked into the exam room, grinning. “What did you do in Europe?” he asked. And then, a smile playing in his twinkling blue eyes, I heard him say what I’d never dreamed of hearing: “The tumors are shrinking. You don’t have to come to the hospital tomorrow. Your transplant is cancelled.”

A new era

Today begins a new era in my life...

Two days ago I finished my to do list (at work only...the "at home" to do list is still quite long!), packed up my desk, hugged all my coworkers, and walked out of my office. Not for the last time, but for a long time. On my final day, I received such an incredible send-off of cupcakes, cards, laughs, hugs and generosity from all of my coworkers. My coworkers, who are really not simply coworkers, but rather a family of folks who come together day after day, for hours on end...they are the ones I share such a huge piece of my life with...they are my work family. And on Thursday, they made me feel very special and very loved. I am monumentally blessed to work where I do, with each of them...whether or not they are in the same office as me...whether or not I have even ever met them face to face.

Yesterday, I moved my best friend Sherri into my home. It is now "our" home. With the help of many enthusiastic and highly organized friends, Sherri and I packed up her little apartment in Youngstown and relocated her things into the small guest room in my house...and into a small niche in the attic as well. She has decided to move in with me to take care of me when I return home from the hospital in October. Together, she and my mom will provide the round-the-clock care that the doctor has said that I will require for around 2-3 months. Sherri selflessly has decided to give up so much in her life - her independence, her time, her address - to relocate and be here for me. Again, I am a very blessed girl!!

This Friday, less than a week away, Sherri and I will hop a plane to Athens, Greece, where we will begin a six-week adventure backpacking through six European countries. Following Greece, we will visit Spain, France, Switzerland, Germany and Italy. My mom, Erika and Jen will meet up with Sherri and I in Germany, and together the five of us will explore Germany and Italy, visiting the places of my mom's childhood. It will be the adventure of a lifetime, and my last hurrah before embarking on another adventure of a different flavor, my donor stem cell transplant. I have so many to thank for making this trip even a possibility, from the doctor, who gave me his blessing to go and enjoy life, to my work family, who so generously provided the time off and the funds to take the trip, to my loving big sister, who immediately offered to pitch in all that she could to help fund this trip as well...

I don't think I can say enough how immeasurably, abundantly blessed I am. And how overwhelmingly grateful I am to everyone who made this dream come true. If you are one of those ones reading this right now, Thank you, Gracias, Merci, Danke and Grazie! I hope to be in touch again soon!