The Sword of Damocles

So far, the threat of relapse doesn't seem t be dominating my life, but its there. I had PET and CAT scans this week. Haven't heard any results yet. I assume that's good.

I have this fear of planning anything.

When Bob and I were laid off, the year we got married, we had just bought a house we really liked. It was mildly unconventional. Not majorly, but not the traditional four bedroom center stairwell colonial. When we got laid off, Bob got a job outside of Cleveland. (We were living in Cincinnati.) He was on probation for three months. Then I moved up to Cleveland, we rented an apartment and I started looking for a house. Having already bought and sold a house in a year, we were gun shy about the whole house thing. We finally bought the most conventional house we could, thinking that if we had to sell again, it would be easy. And houses similar to ours have sold very well in our neighborhood. We didn't buy much furniture at first. We didn't get real attached. It could all disappear in an instant. We, of course, have lived here for twelve years.

I have that same provisional sense about my life now. I know it's just processing the whole Hodgkins experience. One day I was healthy, the next day I had a life-threatening illness that required months of treatment. Abstractly we all know that life can change in a minute, realistically, we have to assume that we can pick up the drycleaning on Thursday, and make that plane reservation for next month. I have made the decision to trust the future, but that's a decision made with my head. Sometimes my heart is not so sure.

Tomorrow morning, Bob and I are getting up early and going down to the towpath to bike before it gets hot. I exercised today and I'm still getting stronger and stronger every week. It's a great feeling. And it makes it easier to feel positive when I feel good. Which I do.