Reflections on a year gone by

               It is hard to believe that in just a few short days, it will be 2020. It didn’t seem that long ago that everyone was panicking over Y2K and the impending collapse of the banking system, air traffic and anything else computerized.

               In 1974, a television show about the ‘50s seemed like a look into the distant past. And now the ‘70s are further in the past than Happy Days was when it aired. How did that happen? How can the days seem so long and the years so short? It’s a conundrum, to say the least. 

               2019 was just that kind of year. There were many days that seemed to drag on forever. Early on, I thought the days spent at home would never end.  The hours were drug down by boredom and fatigue. I couldn’t have visitors, so the only people I saw were my roommate and my doctors and nurses. Eventually, I was able to return to work on a part-time basis. It felt so good to be productive again, to see so many familiar faces and to have purpose again. But even the short days took their toll on me.  I slept from the time I got home until Lezlie got home and made dinner. Then after dinner, I went to bed. I was released to work full days in May. Progress.

               But, progress was marred by multiple health issues.  A fever sent me to Vanderbilt’s emergency room, and resulted in a short stay. Shots in the abdomen intended to help my body absorb calcium caused hours of pain. Side-effects from the chemo which included neuropathy and night sweats and hot flashes kept me up nights, unable to sleep. And then there was the stomach distress. I might have been released to work full time, but I couldn’t seem to string together a full 40 hours until August.

The summer heat caused instant nausea. The Fall has always been my favorite time of the year and 2019 was no exception. The cooler weather made everything better, except my allergies. I had a bout of bronchitis, and then two sinus infections and a new allergy was revealed – to an anti-biotic. Ugh.

Frustration and fatigue brought on depression. I’ll admit it, I didn’t respond well to being depressed. I started counseling and stopped after a couple of visits.  I had all my own answers and we agreed that working through my feelings through writing would be the best outlet for me.  So I began to write this blog more regularly. It helps.

It hasn’t been all bad. I was surrounded by my best friends in January when we got the news I was in remissions.  We screamed and cried and laughed and cried some more. In May, I got to celebrate my best friend on a cruise to Alaska (one we planned long before I got sick). My oncologist released me to travel just days before. We were uber-careful about flying and there were no buffets for me. I had several cute hats to wear, made with love by my sweet sister-in-law and a dear friend. And in October, on the anniversary of my stem cell transplant, I celebrated in Washington DC with my parents.  It was a wonderful trip, that I will cherish for the rest of my life.

So, here we are, December 27^th. Three days left in 2019. I am proud of myself for pushing through, but I certainly did not do it alone. My family has been by my side every step of the way. And, my friends (my second family) have been patient, supportive and oh, so kind. God has been so faithful. He has quieted every fear, captured every tear, and given me peace in the middle of the storm. How could I ask for more?

I don’t know what 2020 has in store for me, but I know who I will be walking through it with and I am thankful.