Carry On

I've got to do something so that the first post you see when you land on this blog will no longer be my colorful attempt at painting.  May that post, as fun as it was to create, move itself down a few notches and rest in peace.

I recently re-read everything I've written here.  I don't know how obvious it was to others at the time, but as I look back over the last almost 7 months, I can recognize the state of shock that Michael and I were initially experiencing after his diagnosis.

Today I no longer feel like The Woman Whose Husband Has Mantle Cell Lymphoma.  For now, MCL doesn't sneak in between my eyelids at night, and it's not hanging around me like the dirt cloud of Charlie Brown's friend, Pig-Pen.  Yes, it continues to scream for more mind time and emotional space than I think it really needs, but who am I to know how much attention something like this requires?  I'm new at this.

Michael is still feeling well.  Every day he puts many varied things into his body.  It's more than I can keep up with, and I've let go of the need to know a lot of the details, instead choosing to trust Michael and his healthcare practitioners.  That's HUGE for someone who has historically thought she was responsible for the well-being of all of her loved ones (and sometimes, the rest of the world)!!!   (The knots in my shoulders and everyone around me appreciate it, I'm sure.)

And the extra good news is that Michael has gained back more than half of the weight he lost about two months ago when things went wacky around here.  I barely mentioned the two weeks from hell fun times we had in this post but, yeah, he lost at least 18 pounds in a very short time then.  Once he got off of one thing and started to build up some other things, he began to feel healthier, and the weight started to slowly return.  He's looking good, and his energy is great.  No, wait, he's looking great and his energy is good.

Yeah, that.



Rejoice, rejoice, we have no choice but to carry on...