An update of sorts

Happy Saint Patrick's Day.

Here's a St. Patrick's video for you. Hope you enjoy.

And a bit of St. Patrick's day trivia for you: St. Patrick wasn't Irish. He was born in Scotland, and his mother was from a well-known Roman family. So his father was Scottish and his mother was Italian. Sound familiar? (It's true. I looked it up in the Catholic Encyclopedia.)
The leprechauns visited our house this morning, as they usually do on March 17, playing their usual tricks -- the toilet water had turned green, and the kids' breakfast juice and milk had turned green, too. And once again, I couldn't catch the leprechauns in the act. (We had a little scare when we heard Strudel crunching on something during breakfast. Thank goodness it was only one of her nyla-bones. We were afraid she's caught a leprechaun.) Corned beef and cabbage tonight.

I'm hoping for a little luck of the Irish soon. I think Lady Luck owes me, especially after the Foxwoods Casino losses a couple of weeks ago.

Plus, you know, that whole cancer thing.

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I have a doctor's appointment next week, so I'll give you a physical update then. But I thought I'd give you a mental update now.

Watching and waiting continues to be a strange experience. I have my monthly follow up with the oncologist next Tuesday. I don't expect him to tell me there's any big change. I don't really feel any changes. No "B" symptoms. I have occasional discomfort in my chest and sides. Not pain, by any means. Aches, maybe? I'm trying to lift weights once a week, and it feels like the kind of "day-after" aches that I usually feel, but they last for more than a day. Is it lymph nodes swelling? Who knows. If it is, and the doctor feels them, does that matter? Is it enough for say, "We need to start treatment?" Again, I don't know. It sure doesn't feel like I need to.

News about my condition is still spreading, slowly. I brought Catherine to a birthday party on Saturday, and one of the moms (who also has a son in Peter's class) told me she had heard from her older son, and asked how I was doing. Most people don't say anything about it to me, which is fine. I don't expect people to know what to say, so silence is probably better. For those that do say something, their reactions are very mixed. Some seem devastated (which seems to go away when they see that I'm doing OK). Some have the opposite reaction. One of the moms at school told Isabel that she'd heard a rumor about me, and Isabel explained what was going on -- indolent, slow-growing lymphoma, no treatment yet, etc. The mom was relieved. "Oh -- so he's fine." Well, no, not exactly "fine." I've got cancer.

That's my biggest fear, especially with the kids. I don't want them to become complacent, and think everything is fine. They have no reason to think otherwise, given that we've had to make so very few changes to our lives and to our daily routine. What happens when the inevitable progression comes? Will it be more of a shock to them then, seem more sudden to them, throw them off all over again? Of course, progression of the disease isn't completely inevitable. Some people with follicular NHL never need treatment. Some experience autoremission, where their body somehow figures out how to fight off the cancer on its own. But they're a very small percentage.

I try not to get complacent myself. There are days when I need to remind myself to forget that I have cancer, and move on with what I want to do. Then, on some days, when I'm busy and distracted and I get ahead of myself, I need to remind myself that I have cancer. It's a very strange state of mind to be in. I make long term plans, but I don't let myself get too detailed about them just yet.

The good news is, I've gotten good at being in that strange place. I have bad moments, but not bad days or weeks. I see the watching and waiting period as a time to kind of build up strength and gear up for what will come. I'm not in a stare-down with the cancer; it's more like we're at opposite sides of a crowded room, aware of each other, but agreeing to leave well enough alone. For now. But I know he'll block the door if I try to leave, so we'll need to have a little chat at some point, whether I like it or not.

But mostly, I'm living life as I have been up to this point, but with a couple of exceptions. First, I have fewer doctors appointments now than I've had over the last six months, since I know what's going on. And second, I'm eating more blueberries, since they're really high in antioxidents.

Other than that, it's pretty much the same.