Gentlefolk,
Its been a slow week here
in Lake Wilmingone, but things continue to look up. Progress seems to be observable even if I'm
still not at the level of energy I would like.
I am just back from a 2 mile walk thorough the woods nearby, so I'm
beginning to work myself back into shape.
I also get a PT evaluation on Monday to see what the pros can do for me.
Our week began with a
visit from high school friend Judy Tyson and her husband Tony Snithson who live
in Rochester MN. While the visit was
short, we were quite efficient at the various and sundry "catch-ups"
that were necessary to fill the previous 25 years. Judy and the Tyson family have been close to
the Stevens, since before there were kids in either, both in Seaford Delaware
and in Aiken SC, where we went to high school.
Stupid me did not get a picture.
Tin-man strikes again.
While it's not news, we
got a fine reassurance when the neurosurgeon gave us a reading of the brain MRI
this week. In his words, it was as clean
as it could be, which is a wonderful thing to hear, even if he's not the first
to say it.
We were able to speak
with cousin Bonnie who has been at MD Anderson the past couple of weeks getting
evaluated for lung cancer and cancer of the sternum. They don't have all the answers yet, but hope
to be definitive late next week. Put her
in your prayers also.
It's been a great week
for sharing meals with family and friends.
My only regret is that my appetite has fallen greatly with the combo
platter of chemo last week, and the steroids working their way out of my
system. Hopefully I will enjoy a few
good meals before I go back on chemo for round 2. Maybe between the exercise and the reduced
appetite some of the excessive weight gain of the past few months can be cast
away.
As we prepare to hit the
road for Georgia next week, we look forward to seeing brothers and sisters, and
to celebrating little Suzanna's second birthday. Can't wait.
Best wishes to all,
Ross
Prior post from 9 April:
Gentlefolk,
I pause in the midst of the process to reflect a bit on what has happened and how I have responded to it so far. I hope that you will find something of value herein, even if there is relatively little of medical progress to report.
I have been struck by the number of comments from folks who have said (in so many words), "you have been so open about your condition. I am really glad to know what's going on. You have been so positive facing such a challenge. I don't think that I could do the same."
There have also been some very kind comments regarding my prose in telling this story, but I will take them as all compliments: with appreciation, but also with a grain of salt. An adulthood misspent by writing and delivering speeches lends a certain advantage when it comes to punctuation, capitalization, spelling and such as that. Not to mention 1-800-BIG-WORD. But thank you nonetheless.
I'm afraid that I find myself much better able to control my emotions while writing than while experiencing the various impediments and injustices that my condition puts in my path. Don't ask; don't get me started. You definitely see the positive me in what I have written to date. If "growing old is not for sissies" carries any truth, it goes at least double for cancer, even cancer of relatively useless organs like the brain.
As to the sharing thing. I certainly didn't start out with the intention of being "open." Whatever you have perceived in my irregular missives, is frankly just me, and you likely would have gotten the same thing whether family, friend, or innocent bystander feigning interest. Several of you have said, "In the same circumstance, I could not have been so open," and it is you who have prompted my reflection and composition today.
First of all, you who feel that "full" disclosure is not your style, I respect that and know that your comfort level reflects a lifetime of becoming the person you are now. If the shoe don't fit, don't walk in it. On the other hand, I would definitely commend thinking about how you would approach dealing with a similar situation should you find yourself in such sometime down the road. What I have experienced in connection with folks from the past has been truly incredible to me. I have been supported by kind words, phone calls, visits, encouragement, and love to an extent not at all imaginable through all of this. I am certain that much of this simply because folks out there are aware of what is going on. (Of course Dottie's role in all this is huge, but she still has to have something to distribute.) I have learned that while my close friends are still there, I have many other friends that I didn't really realize that I had. Thank you for coming to the surface as you have.
There is also a line that we all perceive through difference lenses, namely the "let me tell you about my operation" syndrome. None of us want to experience this level of detail, and if my updates have crossed the line at times, I apologize. In these cases less is definitely more.
Prior post from 9 April:
Gentlefolk,
I pause in the midst of the process to reflect a bit on what has happened and how I have responded to it so far. I hope that you will find something of value herein, even if there is relatively little of medical progress to report.
I have been struck by the number of comments from folks who have said (in so many words), "you have been so open about your condition. I am really glad to know what's going on. You have been so positive facing such a challenge. I don't think that I could do the same."
There have also been some very kind comments regarding my prose in telling this story, but I will take them as all compliments: with appreciation, but also with a grain of salt. An adulthood misspent by writing and delivering speeches lends a certain advantage when it comes to punctuation, capitalization, spelling and such as that. Not to mention 1-800-BIG-WORD. But thank you nonetheless.
I'm afraid that I find myself much better able to control my emotions while writing than while experiencing the various impediments and injustices that my condition puts in my path. Don't ask; don't get me started. You definitely see the positive me in what I have written to date. If "growing old is not for sissies" carries any truth, it goes at least double for cancer, even cancer of relatively useless organs like the brain.
As to the sharing thing. I certainly didn't start out with the intention of being "open." Whatever you have perceived in my irregular missives, is frankly just me, and you likely would have gotten the same thing whether family, friend, or innocent bystander feigning interest. Several of you have said, "In the same circumstance, I could not have been so open," and it is you who have prompted my reflection and composition today.
First of all, you who feel that "full" disclosure is not your style, I respect that and know that your comfort level reflects a lifetime of becoming the person you are now. If the shoe don't fit, don't walk in it. On the other hand, I would definitely commend thinking about how you would approach dealing with a similar situation should you find yourself in such sometime down the road. What I have experienced in connection with folks from the past has been truly incredible to me. I have been supported by kind words, phone calls, visits, encouragement, and love to an extent not at all imaginable through all of this. I am certain that much of this simply because folks out there are aware of what is going on. (Of course Dottie's role in all this is huge, but she still has to have something to distribute.) I have learned that while my close friends are still there, I have many other friends that I didn't really realize that I had. Thank you for coming to the surface as you have.
There is also a line that we all perceive through difference lenses, namely the "let me tell you about my operation" syndrome. None of us want to experience this level of detail, and if my updates have crossed the line at times, I apologize. In these cases less is definitely more.
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