day one

As is likely to happen in my life as a medical subject, I received a 7am call this morning from the hospital. The apologetic woman on the other line said that she was very sorry for calling so early, but they need to push back my picc line appointment by an hour. Rhonda and I were already up and dressed, ready for our early departure. I decided to use the extra time to write and drink my coffee. (Buddy and Rhonda went back to bed as Rhonda snuggled into the flannel sheet, holding on to the dog, she explained "I LOVE going back to bed, Buddy.")

All in all, I feel very prepared for today. I am ready. I have tied up most loose ends with work, we have worked tirelessly to get the house ready, cook and freeze food, and schedule our month. We have people flying in to help us, we have a troop of locals cooks bringing meals, and we have warm clean beds awaiting us in the homes of our Green Bay friends.

I have also taken lots of time to sit with this experience emotionally and spiritually. Yoga, therapy, meditation, plus walks in the woods have all allowed me the space to begin to process. One of the trickiest but most pervasive pieces of well-intended advice I have received in the recent weeks is think positive! For many, this is intended to inspire confidence in my ability to survive cancer. However, it also works to encourage masking the difficult emotional realities that come with a cancer diagnosis. I have had to learn to put aside these admonishments to just and only think positive thoughts and allow myself the space to be scared, worried, and uncertain. Making room for all of the feelings that come out of my experience of cancer allows me to be brave and strong and, ultimately, very ready to heal.

So, as I sit here sipping the last of my morning coffee, watching the sun come up over the trees, I feel that I have done a lot of good work to prepare for this moment. I am well nourished in many ways, and I am ready.