The Courage To Stare

I promised to post something different today, but I apologize.

Today was my first trip to DC to meet with clients since earlier in the year before I was restricted by the second wave of chemo. All was well and good. I even managed to make sure I packed everything I needed for the trip as I am staying overnight and returning home tomorrow. There was a bit of a "Welcome Back" party at the office of one client and it was great to see them. Was glad that the day proceeded normally.

I stopped by my brother's office to see him as I hadn't seen him since August. Since my original diagnosis, anytime he has seen me, I haven't had hair. I told him I wanted to stop by so he could see my hair and know what I looked like in the event he needed to identify the body.

All was well.

Then, I stopped in the grocery store nearby the apartment where I stay when I travel up here and was overtaken by the thought of, "The world didn't stop last year even though mine did."

I came to the apartment and noticed that there were calendars by my desk that were still on the same month as when I was here last. Right there was the proof I needed. The world DID stop! But wait, if it is still that month, then what was this thing called summer that I recall just a few months back. According to the calendar I was looking at, summer was still several months away.

Right now, I'm waiting for laundry to finish because my sheets and towels in this apartment haven't been laundered for a long while. How can that be? According to that calendar, I just washed them last week.

As I type this, I am listening to a replay of the NPR show, "Pipe Dreams." Why are there all those shows listed on there up until November 2009 ? The last one I listened to as I worked here in the apartment was in February 2009.

I wondered the other week how I would wrap up the blog once I got the "all clear." Forgive me, but there is more to tell you.

Including, how I will learn to stare out into a field that looks familiar, but has changed in appearance. The point of standing and staring in that field is to not only get back on the horse, but to find the horse.