Frail Existence

Now that the bouquets are wilting

 It is beginning to dawn on me how very lucky I am.

Ed was right; I am a lucky duck.

I was frantically washing windows,

cleaning freezers and fridges,

shoring up time for treatments every day

or twice a day and/or once a week

for who knows how long.

Preparing for how awful I was going to feel.

I still haven’t been to the chemo oncologist

but the more we read

the more we realize

I will probably be taking a hormone reducing pill

for however long I should live.

Sounds better to me.

With great confidence,

I color my hair.

I wasn’t about to waste coloring or time on it

if it was going to fall out.

Not discounting that it was a traumatic experience.

--tears and fears--

The intense anxiety and dread

has consumed me for two months now.

(Nothing compared to what some are called to bear.

--especially children and young mothers.)

Emotional as well as physical stress.

Even a relatively simple surgery

takes a lot out of you.

On my first day back in the pool yesterday,

I could barely make it across.

Normally I swim ½ mile.

The orchid is still alive our hometeacher gave me

And so am I.

The little things bring more joy.

Every time I pass by or go in the frontroom

the fake fica Amy gave me for my birthday

makes my heart dance.

Tired of killing live ficas

whose leaves drop daily

for nearly a year

until no more are left,

she ordered this one.

I love it.
Hope Springs Eternal