Riding the highs and lows and swimming the ebbs and flows of each post-chemo recovery cycle is spinning me into deja vu of early COVID quarantine days. During those early days, I aspired to bake bread, finish the Artist’s Way, and lift my way to Michelle Obama's arms. 

Similarly, the second week of post-chemo recovery brings space and renewed energy, and aspirations soar. During recovery cycle 1 and 2, by the second week, I walked and wrote every week, blended up smoothies as green as fresh earth, and experienced bursts of gratitude for simply existing in the moment.

Recovery from cycle 3 is looking a bit different.

I jones for dopamine. Yesterday, I searched for it at the bottom of a cereal bowl. Today, I went to therapy. I’m adding an extra scoop of the good stuff on the ole brain by sharing with you some wisdom gathered from two sweet firecrackers named Heaven and Willa, plus a little lad known far and wide as Liam. 

At home, I’m awoken at 6 am by excessive head boops from a voraciously purring cat named Fred. In the hospital, I’m awoken at 4 am by a nurse with a needle, mining my small and mysterious veins for a blood sample.

What I hear today is a spinning wheel of various thoughts. Just as one hits the flapper of my consciousness, another one moves into place. What I feel is a kaleidoscope of emotions. Shifting into focus only long enough to catch my heart and then morph into a new sensation.

And so I write…

Dear Gentle Readers,

(if you can’t tell, I’ve been watching Bridgerton to pass the time. I wish that I were writing this by quill, as Lady Whistledown does.)*

My watch history is banal news compared to the following I received from my oncologist:

I land, two tiny talons, upon the telephone line as the dawn shifts its hue from a deep blue to a misty gray. I preen my own blue-gray feathers as I look to a particular balcony. This balcony lives amongst the trees, just across from the foliage freeway, a place where two tree branches nearly connect. The squirrels take this passage throughout the day. Chasing each other. Chasing the rustling of the wind that tickles the leaves.

Today is one of the hard days. After being discharged from the hospital yesterday, I wrestled through a pitiful night of sleep. Punctuated by pain and more chemo dreams. Dreams where furniture comes to life and chases me down winding hallways.

Howdy from the hospital! Day 3 of 5 underway, and there have been moments of uggghhhh and moments of aha!

I decided to share the top half of this second hospital visit in a photo diary. A small word of warning: A couple of photos show some of my medical markings (nothing too graphic!) and a candid (albeit rare) sighting of a not-so-happy Meg (oh!)

I’m gearing up for my re-admittance into the hospital for cycle 2 of 6 of my chemo treatment. In some ways, I feel far more prepared this time. For instance, I know it will be roughly 5 days in the hospital, and I know to pack almond butter and a loaf of bread. In other ways, I still feel utterly unprepared. Specifically saying any sort of ‘see you soon’ to my boys (Fred & George).

Welp, we did it! 

As the tressels started to grow brittle and find their way into the palms of my hand, I said, “Let’s get ahead of this and make it something fun.” By ‘this’ I mean the fact that my hair began to lose its lustre and would eventually fall and fall and fall out. 

On the subject of things both strange and marvelous, I’ve discovered and experienced the body in a few new ways since this all started…

4:30 am and I’m awake. In my own bed, a huge relief; however, I’m misted head-to-toe in sweat. Disoriented from another night of apocalyptic-style nightmares. They started during my stay at the hospital, and when I started my chemo infusions. In the nightmares, I’m always trying to get ‘home’ to go to sleep. I get trapped in some horror-filled funhouse.

Thank you THANK YOU to my friends and family who have poured out love and prayer and healing energy to me. Please know, even if you don’t receive a personal response from me right now, I see you and feel your love. I hope providing these wider updates helps keep those interested in the loop!

Hi beautiful friends & family,

I wanted to share with you the wild plot twist in my story. As many have said, a small (albeit serious) chapter in an epic novel bound for many more future chapters.

Last week I was diagnosed with a type of non-hodgkins lymphoma and have been in the hospital while a team of (incredible) doctors and (amazing) nurses make a treatment plan.